Reinventing Mel: A Hellion MC Novel

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  Actually why the town seemed to have it in for the club.

  I'd had limited business dealings bikers in Albuquerque, both the recreational and the one-percenters, and had found by and large they were easy to get along with. As in, you don't bother them and they wouldn't bother you.

  At the sound of motorcycles on the street, I cast my eyes up to the big windows and saw two riders wearing gray vest with a picture of a scary looking ghost, a demonic specter wearing an evil grin and holding a bloody knife, emblazoned on the back. I'd been approached by a couple when I'd gone to the Sit 'n' Sip, a local bar by my motel and hadn't liked their looks or their smell. Luckily Frank, the bartender, had run interference and since then I'd had no trouble.

  But, still, I remember thinking with a shudder. Stay away from those kind of bikers.

  Chapter Three

  Dare showed up at Mel's place just after eight-thirty with a six pack. Since it was a mild night, the two men took their beers out to the back porch to talk.

  "So as soon as you're on a crew you'll start as a recruit at the club," Dare said.

  "What exactly does that mean? I know you said that I'd be a part of the club and that you were sponsoring me but I don't know nothing about the biker world." Mel had been holding on to his questions for two months and needed an explanation before he was shoved into that arena which seemed to be looming on the horizon.

  Dare upended his bottle and reached for another one before he spoke. "Basically you'll be at the beck and call of the full-time members of the club for a full year doing whatever, whenever you're asked. You'll be riding with the brothers and doing their scut work. It ain't pretty but once you're in and that recruit patch is torn off, you'll be happy to have gone through it."

  "And the sponsor thing?"

  "Consider me your damn 'daddy'. I'm ultimately responsible for your interactions with and around the club. So if you fuck up then I get to fuck you up."

  Mel emptied his bottle and sat back as he considered what he'd been told. "I don't have a bike and don't even know how to ride one."

  "No fuckin' worries, man. We had some trouble earlier in the year and lost a few brothers. We have some sweet rides in storage just waiting to get back on the street. Once you've got some electrician's green in your wallet, you can pay the club back. As for the riding? I'll fuckin' teach you and take you to get your license."

  "Does the recruit thing involve a lot of hours?"

  He felt the biker's face turn towards him. "Some. Mostly fuckin' evenings and weekends. Is that a problem?"

  "It's just with my brother and sister…"

  "Your girl's already under the Honey's wing and Dee knows what's doing so that's a no brainer. What about your brother? I thought he was fuckin' fifteen."

  Mel sighed and hearing it, Dare started laughing.

  "Being a punk-ass?"

  "Yeah, he is."

  Dare sobered and turned back to the younger man. "Hellions have a program for that, too. Right now Trey's future bro-in-law is one month into his six month stint and doing good. If your little shit gets further out of line, just let me know and I'll talk with the council to see about fuckin' getting him in."

  "I don't think we're to that point yet but I'll keep it in mind," Mel replied. Damn! Was there anything the club wasn't involved in?

  The men were quiet for a time until Dare abruptly changed the conversation.

  "So you still hard after spending all that time one-on-one time with the sweet cherry in reception?"

  Mel smiled before answering. "She's hot all right."

  "Fuck, yeah. But she keeps shutting all of us down and we can't figure it the fuck out."

  "Maybe she doesn't date the guys she works with," Mel suggested.

  "Who the fuck said anything about dating? I just want to dip into her sweet honey-pot to the fuckin' point I can't remember my own name," Dare chuckled. "But the thought that the drapes and carpets might match is kind of fuckin' scary. I mean, hot pink streaked pubes?"

  Mel couldn't help his laughter at the mental picture the biker created. "No, that'd kind of be a deal breaker."

  "Deal breaker? Shit, I'd lose my fuckin' stiffie, man!"

  Their combined laughter rang out into the quiet night and Mel heard a "quiet down" shouted from someplace down the block.

  "I should probably bail. Listen, I'll be around if you have any more questions. You still have a few days before you'll be fuckin' sporting the Hellion cut so if you've got worries come see me. Brand's got you on inventory, right? Good. So swing by my office if something fuckin' occurs to you. Nah, stay there, man. I'll see myself out." And with a flick of his fingers, the huge biker left.

  Mel stayed outside and considered how much both he and his life had changed in only a couple of months. He was learning a trade that would definitely support his family over the long haul and he was slowly coming out of his shell each day. When he was younger, he'd been outgoing but had quickly learned Deschames liked his guards seen but not heard. Since the old man had been holding Der and Jules as insurance to keep Mel in line, he'd had no choice but to become quieter and much more serious.

  He still wasn't sure about becoming a part of HMC but they'd done so much for his family Mel didn't know how to refuse. And from what he could see, the club behaved much like a family, a very large and boisterous family. But one that took care of each other and those under their protection.

  Compared to their old life, being a part of the Hellion family wouldn't be so bad, Mel decided as he picked up the empties and went into the house.

  *.*.*.*.*

  "Texas, huh? So how come you don't have a drawl?" I asked, delicately forking up another mouthful of my diet meal for one as I tried and failed to keep my eyes off the gorgeous hunk who sat across from me.

  "I still do when I'm stressed but I'm working on getting rid of it. Montana seems to think you have no brains when they hear the South in your voice," Mel explained with a chuckle. I really liked his smile deciding his slightly crossed front teeth only added to his charm. But, then, I was so enamored with the virile guy I hadn't found much I didn't find fascinating.

  He and I just 'happened' to have the same lunch break and had taken to spending that time together since we were the only ones who didn't go across the wide, wide driveway to eat at the club. 'Happened' because I snuck his timecard out of the holder after his first day and saw when Brand had scheduled Mel's half-hour to eat.

  A girl needed to create the opportunities she wanted to occur.

  "What do you do for fun in your time off?" I asked. We'd had lunch three times by then and I was getting tired of our little getting to know you chats. I'd dropped more than enough hints in trying to get him to ask me out but he didn't seem to be picking up on any of them. It was so darn frustrating! So frustrating in fact, I was considering asking him out, something that went against my personal code of dating which was very specific about the man being the hunter.

  "Not too much because I don't have the time with my brother and sister and all," he said, taking a bite out of his second sandwich. The man sure could eat and his daily lunch usually contained more items than my entire week's worth of groceries.

  "So you don't date or have friends over?" I was fishing but trying to keep it light wondering if the lack of initiative on his part was because he was already seeing someone.

  "I haven't dated in a while but sometimes the Hellions or Honeys come by to visit."

  Shoot! So the reason he hadn't asked me out wasn't because of another woman which meant…what? My mind moved at the speed of light to come up with an explanation. I knew he liked me and found me attractive since I'd caught him looking at me and my rounded parts when he thought I didn't see.

  "Can I ask you something, Miss Palmer?"

  "Sure, Mel. Ask away," I replied with a giggle. Usually I was the one blazing the trail for most of our conversations which didn't bother me in the least.

  "Why is your hair pink? I mean, did you color it that way on purp
ose or was it just something that happened?"

  I could feel my smile fade at his question. I know I blinked before I answered wondering if his motive for not taking me out was because of my bright hair. Maybe he didn't want to be seen with me in public. "No, my hair's this color because I like it. I don't moo on cue."

  "I'm sorry…do what?"

  "I'm not part of the herd and I like that my hair makes me different than everyone else."

  "Moo on cue, that's funny!" he laughed before finishing his last bite and reaching for his chips. I must've sounded defensive with my answer because he went on. "It's not that it doesn't look good on you, though."

  "Why, thank you, Mel," I said, beaming my biggest, brightest smile at him as I leaned in. "And for that you can call me Lulu."

  "Lulu," He repeated as he smiled back and I saw his eyelids move to the half-hooded position. I knew what that meant having seen the look on many men's faces before, so I turned my head to allow his eyes to roam over me where they would.

  "Ah. If you're not busy tomorrow night, would you like to go with me to 'Boots'? They have live music on Tuesdays that I've heard is pretty good."

  "Sure. That sounds like fun!" Yes, yes, yes! He asked me out! Fabtastic!

  "If you give me your address I'll pick you up around seven," he continued and I could see he was making a concentrated effort to keep his eyes on my face. I hadn't (and didn't want to be) as successful in that regard, allowing my eyes to roam over his shoulders and huge biceps.

  "Seven will be fine," I breathed before glancing down at my now empty cardboard bowl. "Do you want my phone number, too? You know, just in case something happens?"

  "That'd be great, Lulu," he replied looking like I'd just handed him his lottery winnings instead of my phone.

  I'd wasted three days with my hints when all it would've taken was giving him permission to use my first name?

  The inner workings of the male psyche was a deeply mysterious thing.

  *.*.*.*.*

  Silo, storming back by the conference room on the way to his desk, couldn't help but overhear the young couple who ate lunch there. Flipping a bitch in the middle of the hall he raced to Bishop's office.

  Dare was seated in one of the visitor's chairs with his feet up on a corner of Bishop's desktop.

  "You are not going to fuckin' believe this! Meat asked princess out and she said fuckin' yes!" he boomed after closing the door.

  "You're shittin' me," Dare breathed.

  "Meat? As in young Mel?" Bishop asked incredulously.

  "That's the one. Now I need one of you fuckers to tell me why him and not us, huh? What's he fuckin' got we ain't?" Silo's disbelief was hard to miss.

  "He doesn't even have game, for Christ's sake!" Dare yelled.

  "Maybe that's the fucking attraction," Bishop ruminated. "Dig it. She's bright and scary smart so maybe quiet is more her damn type."

  "He don't seem so quiet when she's around," Silo advised. "Fuckin' little chatter box during their fuckin' little lunches."

  "You think she'll do him?" Dare got straight to the point.

  All three men looked at each other. They had a pool going to see which one of them would get underneath those cute as fuckin' hell petticoats and by what date. But with her agreeing to go out with the soon to be recruit, the game had changed.

  "I call two weeks," Bishop yelled, pulling up his calendar and changing the labels written in the same pink as her hair.

  "Nine days," Silo intoned, moving around to stand behind the IT Manager's chair.

  "Shit. He's my fuckin' responsibility and my time with him starts in four days. So I'm gonna ensure the kid fuckin' hits it in five." Dare announced with a challenging grin. "And then we'll get the fuckin' answer to the goddamn carpet and curtains question too."

  All three men looked at each other before they burst out laughing.

  Chapter Four

  Mel looked over the selection of jeans he had in the top of the small closet. But then, he didn't need a large space due to the few clothes he had. Although, with the new HC threads, his wardrobe was expanding.

  When Deschames' guards had rounded the remaining people in his family up to be taken to the old man's huge house, they'd been allowed one small suitcase each. One small suitcase that would hold the whole of the worldly possessions that each of them could take with them.

  All three of them had cried silently during the packing which had been overseen by same people that Mel was so to be a part of.

  At the time he'd decided to grab a couple of photo albums and family pics, mementoes of happier times rather than clothes. Which worked out in his favor since, as one of the old man's personal guards, he'd been forced into weight training by Mr. Terrence, the head of security who held the ear of Deschames. And Mel'd taken to the punishing training like a duck to water because the pain of lifting eradicated all the protesting noises in his head. Protestations of the unfairness of life and the hamster-wheel of how he was going to get himself, Der and Jules out and away. And that had soon found him outgrowing the clothes from home at an alarming rate.

  He ran his hand over the stack. He had five pairs of jeans and one pair of trousers. Boots wasn't a trousers kind of bar so he considered the different jeans before making his selection.

  Adding a white buttoned-downed shirt with the tails out and cuffs rolled back and his new boots which gave another inch and a half to his height, he perused himself in the bathroom mirror.

  He'd do, he decided.

  "Wow, Mel, you clean up nice!" Jules exclaimed as she met him in the small hallway. "Though you probably should've shaved."

  He ran a hand over the scruff on his face. "I thought this was the style."

  "It is but it's gonna scratch her face when you kiss her," Julie explained as if she had all the intel of how it worked when a man and a woman came together. "Is her name really Lulu? That is so cool!"

  "Yeah. She's the definition of the word 'cool'."

  "What does she look like?" Jules asked with big eyes.

  "Like that girl with the cupcakes on her boobs on the poster of your room," Mel said. He'd been shocked at how much Lulu actually looked like the singer Julie so admired. "Only her hair is bright pink on the underneath side."

  "Pink!" He watched his little sister's eyes went unfocused and he couldn't help but smile at what she must've been thinking. "I bet I could rock pink hair…"

  "Not on your life, Julie."

  "But…"

  "You wanna mess with your looks, do it when you turn eighteen. Otherwise we're sticking with what you were given." Mel reached out and tweaked her nose. "And you look perfect just the way you are."

  "You always say that," she pouted, swiping at his hand. "What if I had the Honeys do it for me?"

  "Then I'd have no choice but to take my belt to all y'all's backsides." Chuckling, he turned to move around her as he walked to Der's bedroom door, rapping hard against the wood. "Der, you've got the controls. I'm leaving…"

  The door wrenched open and was filled with the tall form of his ever-growing brother. Though still on the thin side, the squirt had shot up another two inches since they'd landed in Missoula.

  "I already told you, I'm not some damn babysitter!" Der yelled, his chin jutting out to punctuate his words.

  "And I told you that, for tonight, you are," Mel ground out. Why was everything a battle between the two of them?

  "I'm not watching Jules."

  "Why? It's a school night and you're gonna be home anyway." Mel tried appealing to his brother's logic which had always played a big part in swaying his younger sibling.

  "Show's how much you know, dickwad! I've got plans with my friends," Derek challenged with another chin lift.

  "Those plans are cancelled…"

  "Oh, no they're not! You can't tell me what to do, Mel. You aren't my dad! You're nothing but my 'custodial parent', right? Isn't that what it says on the legal stuff?"

  Mel couldn't help himself as he stepped forward and pres
sed his huge chest against his brother's much skinnier one in challenge. "You know what that means, Der? Do you? That means it's my fucking ass on the line for all y'all. That you do shit and I'm the one held accountable. Is that what you want? Well, is it?"

  Derek glared at him before he shot around Mel and slammed out of the house.