The Possibility of Trey (A Hellion MC Novel)

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  "What the fuck? One? You only left me one?"

  "No. You've got it wrong," Dare shot back. "We left you one. You know, out of respect."

  "If it'd been anyone else, they'd have gotten jack shit. What's the rule? Last one to the table …" Huff added with a smirk.

  The meeting started as the men from Idaho reported in. Trey kept his council brothers in on all that was happening being a firm believer that no one man should hold all the knowledge. If something were to happen to him, his brothers would be able to pick up the reins and business could go on as usual.

  While they were waiting for the bridge-line for the Wyoming group, Bishop recounted what he'd found out about Brechot in Idaho.

  "It took me awhile to dig the shit out but I got it. Yeah, there's a clear case of collusion fucking happening there. He's got a brother-in-law and two cousins on his mother's side sitting in positions of power. Which is how the fucker beat us on those three bids. It was hard to find until I researched his family tree."

  "Gotta love the internet," Silo growled. "Can't hide shit on the web."

  "If you're sure of the connection then get the goddamn ball rolling on exposing that shit. I want those fuckers to go down with such an audible bang we'll hear it here in Missoula." Trey'd had it up to there with his so-called competitor. If the motherfucker had to have help in order to win the bids then, in Trey's eyes, the man was no longer a competitor but an outright enemy.

  "The other thing I found?" Bishop's eyes were almost dancing as he got ready to drop another bomb. "Seems Brechot's mom had a sister. And the sister was a fucking serial bride. One of her marriages was to a man by the name of Fremont. She had two kids with the guy. Those fucking kids just happen to be Jack and Daisy."

  "Holy fuck! Fat Jack and the bull-dyke are related to Brechot?" Dare's face reflected the shock felt around the table.

  "I can't even fathom them having a mom. I thought demons were spawned in one of the different levels of hell," Dice added dryly.

  "Needless to say, that's a game changer and something we need to jump on. Si? I need you and Bishop on point for this one. I know you both have a lot on your plates but if what's doing is what I think it is, we gotta get on this shit AS-fucking-AP. " Trey felt his stomach sour at the thought of Brechot and Fat Jack. Although he could see the resemblance. Each thought they were smarter than they actually were and held more power than they actually had been allowed. It was time for both of them to become more self-aware regarding their shortcomings.

  As president of both HC and HMC, Trey was determined the motherfuckers were going down as fast as was humanly possible.

  "This shit is killing my chill," Dare grumbled. "We need a fucking party, Trey."

  Trey glanced at the other men and saw most were nodding in agreement. Things had been brewing and he knew the brothers needed to let off some steam.

  "You suggested it, you put it together, amigo." Trey felt the tension which had been building around the table immediately dissipate.

  The rest of the meeting, as well as the rest of Trey's work day went without a hitch and found him calling it quits early.

  "I'll be across the forecourt, Rita," he advised on his way out of the heavy glass door. "But I'll have my cell on if anything rears its head."

  "Enjoy," came the reply.

  Oh, he would. A few of glasses of High West, a call to his girl to determine when they could meet up at his place and then riding ball deep between her creamy thighs would most definitely make for an enjoyable evening.

  *.*.*.*.*

  In my mind all my fears, doubts and concerns regarding where I stood in Trey's world were officially answered at exactly 4.47 pm. I know the time because I'd just punched out.

  Had I been two minutes earlier or two minutes later, I wouldn't have had confirmation of it. Or maybe I would've but at some later date and time.

  All I knew was that from my vantage point at the time clock, I could see almost the full back half of the HMC clubhouse through the plate glass windows and glass door of the HC.

  Including the main door of the clubhouse.

  A door I could see my man strutting across the forecourt towards. And out of which flew a girl. One of the beautiful bright parrots with big hair, big boobs and small clothes.

  She screamed with an ear to ear smile and flew towards Trey before jumping up on him. On him and wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck before the two of them performed a lip-lock of such epic proportions, I had to look away.

  To look away as my heart burned inside my chest, weakening my knees and causing the room to tilt hard enough, I had to steady myself against the wall. I raised my head trying to convince myself I hadn't really seen what my eyes had viewed but there they were. Still connected, only Trey's hands were on her ass as he continued his journey into the club itself with his female accessory.

  "Oh, Dallas. Don't worry about it, honey. He's a biker. Bikers do what bikers do and as Prez, Trey's a law unto himself." Rita's voice was right next to me and I was surprised to find I was standing in front of her desk, her face turned towards the window. She looked at me and I saw sympathy in her eyes. "Hook ups happen all the time and usually don't mean anything more than an itch that needs scratching."

  I must've made some expression or moved, or something, because she added, "just don't take it personally. What you saw was more than likely him just needing a different flavor for the moment."

  In retrospect, I think Rita was trying to help but her words only added more neutrons to my internal Hiroshima. Which, like most horrific disasters, gave me a couple of beats of numb. But I knew epic pain would soon follow.

  Luckily, when the first punishing concussion pulsed, I was sitting in the cab of my truck just getting ready to turn the ignition. Starting in my chest and then radiating swiftly throughout my body, the pain intensified to the point I gasped. I pressed a fist to my lips to prevent any further noises from escaping while my other hand grabbed my t-shirt over my heart, fisting and turning it, trying to turn off the pounding tormenting waves of ache. I couldn't breathe in anything more than a shallow pant and had no control over the shaking of my body or my whimpers, which refused to remain unvoiced.

  I dropped my head to the steering wheel as the first bomb of hurt eased. I tensed every muscle in my body to gain control but felt the undertow of next wave which, I knew, heralded more devastation was on its way. And told me that I needed to come up with an immediate plan, a way to keep my shit together yet to protect both myself and my family.

  With the radio off and driving as slow as a senior citizen, I carefully maneuvered the driveway next to the forecourt, my eyes seeing Mr. Kettering and Mr. Jovanovic going to the clubhouse. Both of them stopped walking and their gazes followed my truck. Mr. Kettering's eyes caught and bored into mine as I passed and seemed to be concerned.

  That gave me my first idea of how to get away from Trey. Because that's what I needed. To get away and stay away from Trey, his lackeys and his fucked-up, fucking biker life.

  How could've I been so stupid? I'd been warned even before signing on with Hellion Construction. But, no. I knew I was smarter than that. I'd never be attracted to a biker. I'd never become ensnared by a man who played so loose and free with his dick that you couldn't be assured you wouldn't catch a disease just rubbing against him!

  By trying to separate my Trey from his lifestyle, I'd only been lying to myself. Hiding my oh-so-careful head in the damn sand.

  Two blocks away, I implemented my first step away by calling Mr. Kettering's office voice mail to detail I was taking my accrued vacation and sick time, effective immediately. I told him I wouldn't be in for a while and that I was sorry but I had family business to take care of that had to be done right away. With what Trey had listed for me, I'd checked with Rita and found I had almost ten weeks of time-off available. Two and a half months.

  Would that be long enough for things to blow over, to get him out of my heart and my life? I wasn't going to q
uit. Not with all the time I had invested, nor could I give up the good pay and unbelievable benefits HC offered.

  I drove another few blocks and figured out step number two before pulling over to call my mom's doctor. Citing our recent attacks at the house, I told him that we needed my mother released that night, not the next day as he'd planned. It took some convincing, but something in my shaky voice must have swayed him because he said he'd take care of it without delay.

  So far so good, I thought with what little of my mind that wasn't still caught up in the vision of Trey with another girl. Of him kissing and fondling one of the parrots. It was on continuous loop in my brain, one image after another and with every mental picture another piece of me died or shattered into such small pieces I could've called them dust.

  I don't remember the remaining drive to the hospital, but I was in its parking lot when the second concussion slammed into me. Arriving so fierce and strong, I had to press my both hands to my chest and found myself hunched over from the pain. As it finally began to back off, again with a powerful undertow, I had only seconds to wrench my truck door open in order to lose the contents of my stomach. I cleaned myself up as best I could but there was no way to put color back in my cheeks or to take the haunted look out of the eyes I saw staring back at me in the visor's mirror. I did, however, have the presence of mind to move my truck into another parking space.

  I knew my folks would see it straight away. And, even if they didn't, they'd feel the emotions that surrounded me. The swirling mass that coated my outsides in such a way it pushed other people from my trajectory as I went to my mom's room.

  "What's wrong, Lally?" my mother cried as soon as I cleared her door. "The doctor said I'm being released tonight instead of tomorrow."

  "Did something else happen?" my dad pressed.

  "No, it's all good. I just thought I'd get us settled tonight is all and the doctor agreed."

  I turned my face away from my mom's questing gaze and began to pack her stuff in one of the bags. When that was done, I got dad's stuff together which kept me busy until we got her signed out and had her new meds. It wasn't until I was pulling out of the parking lot that the questions started again.

  "This isn't the way to our house." Mom's eyes flew to both side windows. "Aren't we going home?"

  "Now, Mary. I explained about the house. We can't go there yet. I'm sure Trey and Dallas have someplace else for us." I felt my stomach clench at my dad's assurance and at the sound of Trey's name, wondering if I was going to have to pull over and lose the battle with my stomach one more time.

  "We're going to that place on the north side, the one with the little efficiency apartments," I explained, working to keep my voice calm and steady. Because I wanted to scream, to yell and to bellow at the top of my goddamn lungs. I was clamoring to throw punches, kicks even as my body demanded I run as far and for as long as my legs would hold up.

  Most of all, I wanted to do the girlie thing and cry my fucking eyes out.

  But I didn't have time for any of that.

  There was too much to do.

  We were in luck and were able to get two rooms side by side. The swarmy guy at the desk gave me a discount for paying for two weeks in advance. I paid extra to have housekeeping service twice a week.

  The apartments were clean and had small kitchenettes that I knew would work for us. I got my folks settled in their room before I went to mine to begin my lists. Lists of where to go and what to buy to see us through. Lists of how to hide and stay hidden. Lists that included doodles of knives, lightning bolts and headstones.

  It was after eleven when I finally got back to my room after running the errands that couldn't be put off until the next day. I put all the groceries in my unit, knowing I'd divide them between our rooms in the morning. Turning the TV on low, I took my time putting my second set of new clothes and toiletries away. I took a long hot shower while our new pay-as-you-go phones charged and even painted my toenails a deep forest green.

  But I was really waiting for the next concussion to hit.

  I could feel it building but moving around, staying busy seemed to keep it at bay. So I kept doing little things. Things like getting completely dressed and moving my truck out of sight around the back of the building. And going through my contact list and transferring it to my new phone with the exception of one name.

  Then I went back to my handwritten lists.

  As the sun was just beginning to show through the cracks of the vertical blinds, I felt the third explosion hit. Maybe it was because I'd staved it off for so long or because I was so fucking tired, but it was the worst of all.

  So bad it was almost as if the other two hadn't happened. Lucky for me, they had because that meant there was nothing left inside me to destroy.

  Leaving nothing but the wet deep runnels of grief for the possibility I'd almost been able to have.

  Chapter Twenty One

  TM: When u'll be home? Cant w8 2 cu.

  Trey put his cellphone down on the bar and picked up his glass, knowing she'd respond quickly. Dallas was good like that and only kept him waiting if she was busy. And even then she'd apologize for the delay.

  "Trey." Silo pulled up a stool on his left as Brand took the one on his right.

  "What's doing, brothers?" Trey signaled to Jilly for a refill.

  "Saw your little reunion with Bambi earlier," Si said slowly, not looking Trey's way.

  "Yeah, she's back and wanted to say hello."

  "Looked like a pretty fucking welcoming hello," Brand drawled, his eyes trained on the bottles behind the bar. "By both participants."

  "I caught that too, brother. How the greeting wasn't of the one-sided variety." Silo took a mouthful of his beer.

  "What'd you bitches do, stand there and watch?" Trey laughed as he glanced at the men on either side of him.

  "Kind of. Mostly my eyes were on Sheridan to see her reaction to the reunion," Brand's voice had turned, sounding dark.

  Trey's hand halted before it could bring the glass to his mouth.

  "Thought we were gonna have to catch hold of her at that shaky first step she took. She looked like she was fucking gonna collapse. Just kind of crumbled in on herself," Si's deep voice was now a dirty growl.

  Wait…what? Trey turned to look at each man in turn. They couldn't be serious.

  "But it was Rita's explanation that really nailed it, in my opinion," Brand continued.

  "Rita?" Trey's own voice was a weak croak as he processed what his brothers were saying and their stern, unforgiving faces.

  "Yeah. She gave your girl the ole 'bikers will be bikers' speech. You know the one. How fuckin' other girls is like scratching an itch and how you probably just had a need for another flavor." Si finally looked directly at Trey and the look in the bald man's eyes was chilling only adding to the ice that had begun to run in Trey's veins.

  "She saw?"

  "Yes. She did. And we witnessed the exact moment Sheridan's heart was torn from her." Brand finally looked directly at his leader and friend.

  Dallas fucking saw, his mind echoed the words, each syllable a knife in his gut.

  "Damn, who died?" Dare asked when he stood next to the small group.

  "Bambi was saying hello to Trey and Sheridan got to see the whole thing." Si's explanation was brief and to the point.

  "Fuuuck," Dare drawled. "That's a harsh way to scrape a woman off, even for you, Trey. Couldn't you have just said, 'it was fuckin' fun but goodbye' or some shit?"

  "And as me 'n' Brand were pointing out, Sheridan ain't a Honey. Doesn't know the 4-1-1 but was getting it from Rita," Silo continued as if Dare hadn't spoken.

  Brand's empty glass slammed against the bar. "I am going home. Home to make sweet love to my beautiful wife and to assure her I have no want or need for anyone else." After a long condemning stare in Trey's direction, the big man left, his boots loud even in the noisy clubhouse.

  Dare slid onto the stool Brand had vacated and lifted his fingers to Ji
lly all the while shaking his head.

  "Okay, who kicked whose dog?" Bishop said, moving around the end of the bar to help himself to a drink. His eyes roamed over the three gloomy faces.

  Dare filled him in and Bishop's face went red as he got loud. "Are you fucking kidding me? Nobody is that fucking stupid."

  "Trey was," Silo intoned with finality and a decisive head nod.

  "Not another fucking word, brothers," Trey warned, holding up a hand. "She's reasonable. I'll just explain and it'll all be good."

  "My ass, Trey! My. Fucking. Ass!" Bishop continued to shout.

  "She was my best, man. The fucking best outta all my goddamn guys and you had to fuck it up!" Silo's rumble while equaling Bishop's in volume also accused.

  "Wow, Prez. Go big or go home ain't just a fucking phrase for you, is it?" Dare was still shaking his head in disbelief.

  None of them were affected in the least by Trey's glare.

  "I call dibs!" Bishop yelled.

  "You can't call fucking dibs. She ain't even here. And besides, what makes you think she'd have shit-all to do with you?" Dare added with a smirk as a twist to his challenge.

  "Because while I'm not Trey, I do have a certain charm when it comes to the ladies," Bishop shot back, his own sneer appearing. "And at least I know how to treat fucking civilians, unlike some of the other ass-clowns in this room!"

  "As her boss, I can't get in on it but I'd be willing to change jobs for a chance at that," Silo offered.

  "Told you fuckers to fucking shut it!" Trey tried to growl but his lips were so stiff it came out as more of a mumble. "I'll just call her and tell her how it went down…"

  "Uh-uh." Bishop cut Trey's plan off at the knees. "For someone like Sheridan, you don't fucking call them. That is if she'll even take your weak-assed phone call. You man up and talk to her face-to-face. Take whatever she dishes out and say 'I'm sorry' a lot. A fucking lot, you dig?"

  Trey nodded but couldn't seem to get his body to move towards the door. "C'mon, it wasn't like we were fucking. I mean, I could've dragged Bambi to one of the rooms but I didn't. I brought her inside the clubhouse, gave her a smack on her ass and she went on to greet some other brothers."