A Civilian for Silo

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  “Did any of the girls from upstairs seem interested?” Tight asked with a pretty frown. “’Cause a bitch that’d fuck a guy within thirty seconds of meeting him, ain’t Honey material in my book.”

  Lulu twisted in her chair to gape at the other woman. “And how long did you know my Mel before you and Carmi had him in a room?”

  “That was different. I already was a Honey and he was a new recruit. It was our duty to welcome him to the club.” Tight’s answer was given with a sniff and a chin jut.

  I had to make an effort to prevent my jaw from dropping.

  Mel had sex with Tight? And another girl?

  And Lulu knew?

  Man, alive!

  “I thought that girl Linda was nice,” Liv offered hesitantly, but I thought she looked as shocked as I felt at the new knowledge Tight and Lulu had imparted. “She seemed clean, has a good job at a bookstore and was friendly to both the women and the men.”

  “Now that’s the kind of input I’m looking for!” Reese beamed at the younger girl before she shuffled through her papers and used a pen to make a note.

  “Which one was she again?” Lulu appeared to be trying to read Reese’s notes upside down which I thought was a lost cause because the woman wrote so small.

  “Short, round and with blonde hair that went down to her waist,” Liv answered since Reese was still writing. I saw the head of the Honeys chewing her bottom lip as she scribbled.

  “Yeah, she was nice. I liked her, too.” I didn’t know if Reese wanted or even needed my opinion, but since she’d asked me to stay I thought I’d throw in my two cents for whatever they were worth.

  “You know the one I didn’t like? That Deirdre girl.” Tight reached around Lulu and pointed to a name on one of the pages. “She seemed like a stuck up bitch to me. I mean, who the fuck wears pearls to a damn bar-b-que?”

  “She’s the one that asked me if I was a Betty Paige wanna be.” Lulu’s tone left no doubt how that observation went over with my sister. In her mind, she was one of a kind and nobody’s wanna be.

  “And the only woman stupid enough to ask my man to dance with her,” Reese added, drawing a line through Deirdre’s name before putting a large ‘x’ over the rest of what she’d written about the woman. Since Carly had already advised me that Reese and Brand were a couple that didn’t ‘share’, I knew that even asking the gorgeous new president to dance was a definite no-no in Reese’s book.

  I made a mental note not to get on the woman’s bad side, not that I was interested in Brand in the least. While Reese’s guy was good-looking, he just wasn’t Silo with all the juxtapositions of badass and sweet the big, bald biker had let me see.

  Our little group went through the remaining list of names, deciding on seven of the twelve that had seemed interested which took more than a couple of hours, a full tray of sandwiches and another pitcher of lemonade.

  “This was fun,” Liv said from the door as she was leaving.

  “Yeah, it was,” Tight agreed, pushing open the screen door before turning back to me. “Although next time, try adding some damn vodka to that pitcher. If we’re gonna be doing confabs along this line, I’d prefer to do it with a fucking buzz on.”

  Reese rolled her eyes as the other women left, even Lulu who was going to pick up Julie from school. “I think that went well for the first meeting.”

  I moved to the table to begin clearing it and was surprised when Reese joined me. Somehow, I’d expected her to leave along with the others. But she seemed to want to stay and talk. “Since you and I don’t have outside jobs, I thought we could call each of the girls we picked and maybe take them to lunch, give them more information about our club and its rules.”

  Stopping in the middle of the kitchen, one hand stacked with plates and the other holding glasses, I stared at the beautiful, brown-haired girl. “Me? You want me to go with you?”

  “Sure, why not? I’ll also need help picking out some charities the Honeys can be involved in, not to mention helping to set up the houses when Brand and Silo finish choosing the brothers that want to transfer.”

  “The Honeys do all that?” I was flabbergasted. On one hand, I’d been with Reese when she’d called herself a biker-bitch and now she was telling me the women’s side of the club was active in charity work?

  “And more,” she added, though it looked like she was trying to hold back a smile after looking at my face. “First, we care for our men, then the other Hellion brothers and their families. After all that, we try and reach out to the community.”

  My mind was reeling as I began to rinse the dishes which Reese took and stacked in the dishwasher.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in. At least it was for me when Brand first introduced me to the club. But as shocking as it sounds, it’s the truth. The Hellions do take care of their own as much as possible.” She bumped a shoulder against me before I went back to the table to wipe it down.

  “The downside of it is that you know everyone else’s business: which couple is having partner trouble, what family is having money issues and which of their kids is raising hell.” I saw her shake her head as if remembering something she found unpleasant. “And they know your shit as well.”

  “Sounds kind of like a family.”

  “That’s exactly what it is. A family that is all up in your business, offering advice when you don’t even ask for it.” She laughed and I couldn’t help giggling with her. “But if you’re anything like me, you can just tell them where to get off and they’ll leave you alone.”

  Yeah, like that would ever happen. I’d told Lulu plenty of times where to ‘get off’, as Reese had so succinctly put it, and that had never stopped my sister from butting in.

  Another thought occurred to me and I wondered if I should bring it up. Wiping out the sink before hanging up the dishcloth, I turned to where Reese leaned against the counter. “I don’t know if you are aware, but back in Albuquerque, I was in charge of the Palmer charities.”

  Reese straightened, her eyes going wide. “Seriously?”

  I nodded before continuing. “It was my job to plan and execute fund-raisers, collect the donated moneys and keep track of it all.”

  “Holy shit!” Reese stepped towards me and grabbed my hands. “You are fucking perfect, Shell!”

  Uh…what?

  “Gawd! I don’t know shit about that kind of stuff and to tell you the truth, I was nervous as hell about where to even start.” She was beaming and bouncing our hands between us. “And it used to be your flipping job? Damn, girl!”

  I needed to stop her, to tell her the limits of what knowledge I had. “But you have to understand, Reese. I planned elegant dinner parties to raise money, the occasional Casino night or something similar. Nothing even close to a Hellion bar-b-que.”

  “You’re talking ball gowns and dripping diamonds, aren’t you?” Her enthusiasm lost a little of its edge and her eyes went unfocused as I nodded again. “That isn’t a problem. There are still things we can do on a smaller, less expensive scale although I’d give my eyeteeth to finally wear a Cinderella dress.”

  My confusion must’ve shown because she quickly moved on. “The Hellion land the club purchased extends quite a bit further than just the compound. It goes all the way from the river to where the first road crosses and another hundred yards on either side.”

  “Oh-kay,” I drawled, not having a clue where she was going in giving me the parameters of the land that the Hellions held in Billings.

  “Which means we could bring in a carnival, one with lots of kiddy rides and games of chance for the parents and teens.” Her big brown-eyes, so expressive in her face, were shining. “Or we could even do a Casino night at one of the local hotels in order to raise money for whatever Billings charity needs help!” She let go my hands and stepped away as she began to pull at her bottom lip. “Oh! To see my man in a tux and me in something classy, billowy and to the floor…”

  Her enthusiasm was contagious. But I reached for the other
side of the coin. “Or we might consider something along the lines of ‘Be a Biker for a Night’ where people attend a Hellion bar-b-que but have to dress like a biker or a biker-bitch.”

  “You are a fucking genius, girl!” Reese grabbed me and pulled me in for a tight hug, shocking me even further with her display of affection as well as her words. I’d never been called a ‘fucking genius’ before but, hey, if the shoe fit, who was I to correct her?

  Disengaging, she dragged me back to the table and took out her notebook and pen again. “Okay, first we need to interview and build the Honey hive. Then, second…”

  I tuned her out as she talked through the stuff she was writing, still basking in her admiration for something I hadn’t realized I was now ashamed of having been a part. My charities had come under the RICO investigation and the non-profits had quickly, though quietly pulled away from the Palmer name. Not that I blamed them in the least. But it had been yet another slap I’d taken all because of my dad’s greed.

  I sighed and tucked my hands underneath my legs.

  But maybe, just maybe in Montana, there was a life waiting for me.

  That was, if I chose it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Hellion Construction, Silo Kettering speaking,” he barked into the phone. Lulu was on her lunch break and since HMC Billings had no recruits to fill in for her, he and the other brothers on council were left to pick up the slack.

  “Hello, Silo. Theresa Colton,” the feminine voice greeted him.

  Theresa who?

  “Your real estate agent,” she reminded.

  Oh yeah. She was on his list to call in order to get her started on finding places for the brothers they’d accepted. But he couldn’t see the sticky note in all the fucking shit covering his desktop. Something, he’d told himself, wouldn’t be repeated in his new digs but old habits die hard.

  “I was just about to call you,” he groused, picking up papers in order to find whatever he’d used to remind himself to call her.

  She laughed and Silo’s hands stilled. He didn’t know a lot about women, but somehow he knew this one’s laugh was meant to entice.

  “I was calling because I need to get your signature on a couple more papers.”

  Goddamn! More papers?

  “I’m paying fucking cash for the place, Miss…ah, Mrs. Colton.” Christ! He couldn’t remember if she preferred to be a miss, a mizz or a missus. “How many more papers do I have to goddamn sign anyway?”

  “I believe these are the last of it and, please call me Theresa,” she crooned through the line. While Silo wasn’t into phone sex, with her voice, she would’ve been a shoe-in for one of those ‘888’ girls. “I was thinking perhaps we could meet for dinner. You know, combine a little business with pleasure?”

  Fuck! He hadn’t been wrong in his thinking. The woman was flirting with him!

  He swallowed thickly before answering. Aggressive women always made him nervous.

  “Dinner won’t work but how about you bring the papers to my place around seven and I’ll get them signed.” His voice sounded croaky even to his own ears. “I need to give you a list of what else we’ll need.”

  “Need?” Why’d the bitch have to sound so breathy?

  “We’ll need approximately fifteen more houses or apartments, a mix of purchases and rentals, but I’ll have all the info for you when I see you.” Was he sweating? Why the fuck would he be sweating, for god’s sake?

  “Ooh,” she whispered on what, in any other circumstance, Silo would call a moan. “I think I’m just the person to handle…your requirements, Mr. Kettering.”

  “Silo,” he barked, realizing his tone was too sharp for the conversation at hand. “So I’ll meet you at my place at seven, yeah?”

  “Most certainly,” she agreed with a breathy laugh. “See you then.”

  Silo hung up without replying and wiped the hand that had held the receiver on his denim-covered thigh. That had been straight up weird. It wasn’t that he didn’t get his own fair share of female interest, even from the civilians, but there was something in the phone call with the real estate agent that seemed a little too contrived, too forward for his taste.

  And a little bit dirty, but not of the fun variety.

  Not to mention, his heart was still caught up in Shelly even if he hadn’t spent any time with her to speak of in almost a week. A week that had seen him working fifteen to eighteen hours a day in order to get their council, club and work teams in place even though Brand had delegated Pagan, Dice and Hardwood to oversee the culling of the new Hellion Construction crews.

  But he’d missed being with her, of having her in his bed even though she was never far from his thoughts.

  He knew that Shelly and Reese spent a lot of time together and he was glad that she’d become an integral part of the Honeys, but he just fucking missed her.

  Her smiles, her snarky sense of humor.

  Her fucking great hugs and better kisses.

  And especially, he thought with a sigh, having her in my bed.

  It was the fucking fire’s fault. The one that had interrupted their dance, at the closeness they’d started to recreate. And although he and Brand had pored over the tape, even had Pagan use his special skills to try and bring it into better focus, they hadn’t figured out who had been responsible for the fiery bottles. They hadn’t even been able to determine if it was bikes or cars on the video, which had pissed everyone off and found a team installing huge LED area lights on both sides of the road that bisected the Hellion land the very next day.

  But as Brand had said, it was like locking the barn door after the horses had already escaped.

  Silo sighed again and made a note to have Lulu call and warn Shelly of the realtor’s upcoming visit, just on the off-chance something came up that would make him late for their appointment.

  *.*.*.*.*

  “Listen, I don’t know who you think you are but Mr. Kettering is not home at the moment and has not apprised me of any impending meetings,” I stated tightly for the third flipping time. Neither Silo nor Lulu had warned me of the she-devil at the door, but there was no way I was allowing an unknown person into our house when it was just me and Jules inside.

  “Are you the housekeeper?” the other woman sneered, her eyes raking me coldly. True, I wasn’t dressed to impress but I thought my baseball styled t-shirt done in royal blue sleeves and white bodice was casually chic especially paired with a pair of Lucky jeans that fit my butt to perfection. It had taken me a while to get used to the casual clothes the Honeys had chosen for me because they were so much different than my previous style. But there was no denying they were both cute and comfortable. At least I had thought so until seeing the woman decked out in the same fashions I used to wear.

  I drew myself up to full stature at her slam which I knew wasn’t as impressive as her Amazonian height. And that’s what she’d meant to do—to try and demean me into letting her into the house I freaking shared with the big galoot that the real estate agent thought she had a right to be around.

  I’d been in his damn bed and what’d she gotten?

  Telephone calls?

  Forms sent, signed and returned?

  Ha!

  Her play of oh-so-cozy with Silo was a complete sham but one I’d pulled more than once in my efforts to meet with someone I knew would add both money and cache to my charity dinners.

  “Tell you what, Ms. Coltrane…” I started, deliberately mispronouncing the woman’s name.

  “Colton. My name is Theresa Colton,” she corrected through unattractively clenched lips.

  “Okay, Teri. Here’s the deal. You can wait in your car until Mr. Kettering arrives,” I offered in an overly sweet voice. “If he really does have a meeting with you, then he can let you in. Otherwise…”

  She turned away but not before I heard her whispered, “bitch,” that seemed to float on the wind back towards the house’s front portal. Knowing there was nothing more to be gained in baiting the coif
fed-to-perfection woman, I closed the heavy door and made sure to click the deadbolt hard enough for her to hear.

  But I moved to the blinds at the window just to make sure the beautiful girl did as instructed, wishing for the four hundred and fifty-first time I had a cellphone so I could call someone—anyone to come and stay with me until either Silo, Mel or Lulu came home.

  “Who was that?” Julie called from behind me.

  “She says she’s a realtor that works for the Hellions.”

  “She’s dressed pretty fancy for someone selling houses. Aren’t they supposed wear gold jackets or something?” Jules moved to stand next to me and I saw her bend one of the slats to take in the other woman as she gracefully entered her car.

  “Guess they upgraded to Alexander McQueen suits and Manolo’s,” I mumbled, glancing down at my attire. “A bit too much for an early evening house call in Montana, if you ask me!”

  Julie giggled as we both caught the other woman slamming her hand on the steering wheel as she stared at the house. Just as I was about to let off another zinger, this time about women who stroked their own hair, I heard the rumble of motorcycle pipes and watched both Mel and Silo roll into the driveway. Not even a second later, Lulu’s sporty little Fiat pulled in behind them.

  I glanced at the table and saw Julie had completed the place settings, so I moved into the kitchen to begin dishing up the food. That night it was Chicken Cacciatore with buttered, parmesan noodles and steamed broccoli. Actually, I was becoming quite a good cook and felt like the challenge of making good food with fresh ingredients was more than worth it when my family exclaimed over the taste of whatever I’d prepared.

  I placed the large platter in the middle of the table and heard the realtor slut’s voice call out. “Silo? I mean, Mr. Kettering?”

  Training my eyes on the window, I caught the overly made up and inappropriately dressed woman pretend to stumble as she click-clacked her way to Silo. I didn’t blame him for the way her body met his and was thankful to see that, after steadying her, Silo released her arm and took a step back.