Reinventing Mel: A Hellion MC Novel
Page 13
Man alive, but he'd looked good. Just like all the calendars and pictures of tall, brawny working men still smeared with the exertions of their day's labors.
Green eyes so warm and so full on me my knees had gotten weak.
But just remembering the managers' words, of what he'd talked with them about…of what he'd bragged about had held me in check.
Not to mention the little stupid reminder of my lack of importance when the Honeys had made an appearance in the forecourt just after he'd asked me out again. His head had twisted to them pretty darn fast in my opinion. Too fast to feign disinterest.
I shot around a slower car, blaring my horn at their leisurely speed, as my mind held the look on Mel's face when I'd cut him off. When I'd shot down his plans for another date and suggested he had more than enough willing partners to join him.
He'd seemed more than disappointed.
Hurt was what I'd read in his gaze and that look had hit me in a place inside that had throbbed at the perceived injury my words had caused.
Had I gone overboard in letting the gorgeous Mel know I was no longer his for the taking? That what we'd done was a one-off in both his opinion and mine?
I let myself into my apartment and after changing into yoga pants and a t-shirt, set out to complete the last few boxes that I needed to get to before the movers showed the next day. Which was probably a mistake because even though my hands were busy, my mind was left to wander.
He had been hurt, my mind decided as it strayed over Mel's features replaying in my memory. Even if he was the lowest lump of humanity that had ever crawled out of the primordial ooze of our shared ancestry, I shouldn't have made him hurt. I hated wounding other people.
Especially those I'd been with.
Naked.
For hours.
And screaming as I'd hit my pinnacles of pleasure over and over again.
What's done is done, I told myself firmly, yanking the tape over yet another box and marking it in my own shorthand of what it contained.
He hadn't called.
He hadn't texted.
And, he hadn't come by.
He'd also made the choice of taking not one but two Honeys during his time at the club on Sunday. That was if I understood their names correctly. Tight? Was Tight an actual a name or an adjective?
Would it have mattered if he'd only been with one? I didn't think so. The fact that he'd been with anyone the day after we'd gotten together would've still hurt, I decided.
When I'd seen him after work he'd been wearing the distinctive, hard to miss vest of the Hellions. I'd thought Mel had been just another new hire like me. Would I have still pursued him if I'd known he was going to be a part of the motorcycle side of the forecourt?
The only answer I could come up with was a heartfelt, "No!"
From what I knew of bikers, though most of my information was based on rumor and hearsay, I knew I wasn't their type. Possessing more testosterone than sense, more concerned with their idea of 'respect' versus what I knew to be true, I was too aware, too savvy about life and myself to get near those kind of men. So I had been surprised by Mel wearing a vest that had spoken of his affiliation.
Although, I had to admit the Hellions were…different. They seemed to care and to be more involved, more interested in the people around them than I thought bikers would be. Especially to those that weren't involved in their club. But there was still the issue of the casual sex stuff they indulged in and accepted as the norm.
Though, all in all, my heart still ached at the look on Mel's face when I'd driven away from him. And at the hit it had taken in knowing how little I meant to him.
*.*.*.*.*
Mel sat with the other four recruits waiting to be given the day's instructions.
He hadn't gotten home until after eleven with the different runs and chores the other members had him doing. Little things like picking up fast food for a member's family and delivering it to their homes while the brother sat on his ass in the clubhouse getting blitzed. Or bigger things like helping a brother's mom move furniture in her filled to capacity front room. Whether he liked it or not, whether he'd already put in a full day and was weary didn't matter. They asked and Mel complied.
Today, according to Chucky who sat on his left, would see the recruits buying groceries.
"I already did the round to pick up the lists and the money," the blonde haired recruit explained. From the haircut to the way the man held himself, Mel was sure he was ex-military. "That's what you do first thing on Saturday is go through the rider roster and bang on their doors by eight. They'll shove a grocery list at you and some money. Don't accept just the list 'cause they have to have the green, too. Only the Honeys do the free food runs."
"We're doin' their fuckin' grocery shopping?" Gritty asked on an incredulous note. He had bright red curly hair that he kept in a ponytail at his neck. "I thought that was just a rumor."
"Naw, its real but it ain't so bad," Transport replied, shifting in his seat. He was one of the tallest men Mel had ever seen. "Beats the shit out of yard work."
"Yard work?" Mel asked.
"You know, raking and mowing and shit," Poacher added lifting and reseating the cap on his head. "We'll be doing that this afternoon."
"How long have y'all been recruits?" Mel wasn't sure but he was thinking he was the last in.
"Ten months," Chucky said with a one-sided grin.
"Six for me," Transport grumbled, still twisting in his seat.
"Seven and a half," came Poacher's answer as he dropped his chair back down to all four legs.
"Five weeks and four days," Gritty replied which Mel felt explained his question about the grocery shopping. Dare had told him that recruits were considered the least trustworthy guys in the club and had to earn both the respect and confidence of the other brothers.
"Why does it take five of us to do a grocery run?" Gritty's voice was kind of high and nasally which grated on Mel's nerves.
"Twenty-nine lists, man. That's a shit-load of food."
"And it's actually six, we're just waiting on the other brother to get here. In the meantime we need to make a master list so we're ready to hit the stores," Chucky explained patiently. Mel thought the most senior recruit had been doing these runs for a while.
"Stores? As in more than one? Fuck me," Gritty sighed running a hand over his head.
Mel caught Chucky's eyes and both men grinned. Gritty was in for a helluva day.
He wasn't wrong. After listening to the redhead's complaints about anything and everything, Mel was sure his ears were bleeding.
The work wasn't hard but it was tedious especially redistributing all the items into individual bags was a pain in the ass. For that, the group which included Pagan, enlisted the help of Rinse and Derek.
Mel hadn't seen but bits and pieces of his younger brother since Wednesday and only in passing. Eyeing him over the mound of groceries that had been grouped together around the Hellion kitchen he thought the kid looked tired.
"How you doing, Derek?" he'd asked as he moved to stand next to him.
"All right, I guess," came the noncommittal reply with a shrug. "What do you care?"
The kid wouldn't even look at him. Trey had said the attitude might get worse before it got better and Mel could see he was right. Although, Der's backtalk did hold a measure of respect it hadn't before and wasn't screamed in Mel's face which he counted as a win.
"Hey, Mel. Nice to see you again," Rinse called from the other side of the butcher block. "Der come here and help me with the canned goods. It'll go faster with two of us."
"Mel? How come you ain't got no street name yet?" Gritty called out from his place beside the sink where he was wrestling with the mounds of fresh fruit and vegetables.
"Oh, he's got one. Just don't think anyone's had the fuckin' balls to say it to his face yet," Pagan answered on a laugh. "You fuckers know it’s the Honeys that usually end up giving us our names, right?"
Mel hadn't kn
own that. After talking to Dare he just assumed it was something a brother picked for himself. And he'd already been given one? By Carmi and Tight? The idea sent a shiver down his back. He didn't really want a reminder of that Sunday afternoon because he knew Lulu had heard about it and had changed her opinion of him. Which would definitely explain the dead look in her eyes and expression.
"So how'd I get stuck with Gritty, huh? It sucks!"
"According to the girls, when they took you back for some fun, you were filthy. Said they had to make you shower before they'd have anything to do with you!" The entire room laughed at the explanation.
"But I'd just come back from an errand to a place that only had a dirt road! Honest, I shower. Regularly." But the other men weren't giving his explanation any credence. Gritty was one that a person needed to stand downwind from.
"What's my name, then?" Mel finally asked although his stomach clenched at the thought of what the girls had come up with.
"You wanna know? You really want to fuckin' know, brother?" Pagan responded, all traces of mirth gone from his face.
Mel's nod was just a jerk of his chin.
"Hardwood," came the reply which stopped all sound and movement in the room.
"Fffuuuccckkk," someone breathed.
"Damn. Now that's a name a man would be proud to have," Transport said with a head shake. There were more than a couple of 'yeahs' and 'you know it, brother'. More than a few men's eyes held a measure of respect as Mel looked over the group.
Mel could feel the heat in his face bloom. They all thought it had to do with the Honey's assessment of his cock. But he knew better. Only the second word was missing from the exact words he'd confided to Dare about his Lulu's beautiful attributes which Mel's body had shared.
The second word being 'floors'.
Chapter Fifteen
Mel didn't know how the other recruits did it. Working a full time job and then along with the responsibilities of being at the beck and call of the members gave him no private life. No downtime.
He didn't feel he'd even had a weekend. There had been no respite, no chance to simply unwind and process all the shit going on his life. And as he watched from the back porch as Dare rode off after their nightly lesson, Mel wondered at his choice of lifestyle.
Fuck it. He just didn't have the energy to even question his decision anymore.
Der was sitting at the dining room table when Mel entered the kitchen, twisting the locks on the back door.
"Mel, can we talk a minute?" his brother asked quietly and Mel pulled out a chair to join him. This was the first night in a long time their little family were all together under one roof and awake. Although Julie had gone to bed about a half-hour before.
"Sure, Derek. What's on your mind?"
"Bishop said that a man, a real man, needs to talk when he has something he needs to get off his chest." Derek took a deep breath. "Not yell, not scream and not punch things. So I wanna try it."
"Go on," Mel encouraged resting a forearm on the table as he twisted to face the teenager. "Talk to me."
"I don't think Montana is for me." Mel saw his brother's eyes dart from the hands he had face down on the table to his big brother's. "I-I think it'd be better for us all if we moved someplace else."
"Why's that?"
There was another big sigh before he heard Derek speak again. "I don't like the Hellions. Don't get me wrong, the individual dudes seem okay. But the club as a whole? I don't like how wrapped up our lives are in a motorcycle club."
He couldn't blame his brother for expressing the same doubts his own heart held.
"Okay, but you didn't like it here even before that. What else is going on?" It seemed to Mel as if it had been years that they'd talked together.
Derek let out the air in his lungs in an audible rush. "I don't know. The other kids make fun of the way I talk. The school has me doing work I've already done in Texas. You're never really around and the only thing Julie talks about is the Honeys."
Mel thought about what Der was saying. The kid sounded about as lonely as Mel felt.
"I don't think I can leave yet. And you have to admit the Honeys have been good for Jules."
Derek nodded but didn't look up.
"But, I can tell you're struggling the most."
"I might have a solution if you'll hear me out," Derek tendered in a quiet voice.
"I'm listening."
"There's this boarding school just outside of Beaumont, closer to Houston really, that I've looked at online on the school's computer. It rated really high academically, with classes for kids like me."
"You mean of the brainiac variety?"
Mel's heart lightened at the smile that Derek tried to hide.
"Yeah. Well, anyway. They do a twelve-month school year and have a twenty to one ratio of teachers to students. The rooms aren't all that great but I think I'd be happy there."
"What's the name of this place?"
"Greenfield Academy." Mel could hear the yearning in his younger brother's voice.
"Do you know how much it costs?"
"That's the thing. They have scholarship programs and from what I read, I qualify because of our income and my grades." This was said on a rush and with more than a measure of hope.
"Your old grades or your new ones?" Mel was trying to keep the smile out of his voice as he asked his questions. The punk really had done his homework on the place.
"My old. The new ones were because I already knew the stuff they were going over. It's hard to pay attention when it's just a review, you know?"
It was Mel's turn to nod as he thought about what his brother wanted. He let his mind remember how Der had been before and how he'd begun to act up since their move.
"I know you're trying to keep us all together, Mel." Derek looked his big brother full in the face. "Working hard to keep you and me and Jules tight, but I…"
Mel held up a hand to stop him. "I have been. Maybe too hard. But I want you happy, too, Der. And, like you said. You aren't happy here and if you're too smart for what they have you doing in school, we've got to re-think that."
The brothers continued to look at one another before Mel finally broke the silence. "What've we got to do to get you in, then?"
For the first time in what felt like forever, Mel saw his younger brother throw back his head as delighted laughter poured up and out of him.
*.*.*.*.*
By Sunday afternoon, I had all the boxes emptied and everything put away in my new apartment. Even I had to admit once all my furniture was in my little place was cute as a button. Although the entries were strange. The complex was set up as four apartments in a line that faced the other four units divided by a wide expanse of lawn dotted with trees and other plantings. So my front door faced the grassy area and the back door was close to my carport.
I could see the back door would be the one I'd be using the most.
As I began to close the blinds on my windows that faced the front yard, I saw a light come on in the apartment across from mine. Only to see two men wearing the same vests as the guys from Boots as they moved around their living room.
That wasn't good.
I didn't want to be within a mile of anyone wearing their colors or having their attitude. While by and large the Hellions were still a rough and tumble motorcycle club, the members didn't seem to possess the same unswerving sense of entitlement that the other group had. Or maybe it was because I hadn't really seen the Hellions in a social setting. At work they treated me with a measure respect which I appreciated. Well, I admitted to myself, the amount of respect a biker could give to another, especially a girl, that wasn't one of them.
Who knew how they behaved out in public?
I wondered if I needed to let Trey know about not only my change in address but about the other motorcycle club's members in residence at the new complex. I'd never heard if the Hellions had rivals but they had to be aware that there was another club in town.
I was just crawlin
g into bed when my phone chirped with an incoming text.
MDav: I want 2 apologize.
What the heck?
I didn't hear from the guy for a full week except to be asked out while he eyed women he either wanted to or had already slept with and then wanted to say he was sorry?
"No. Uh-uh. That's not how the game is played, boy-o," I told my phone.
Deciding to ignore his text, I turned out the light and snuggled into the covers.