“This truly takes the cake!” Wesson says, wheeling his chair into the van. “I don’t how the fuck we’re going to make this shit happen.” He mutters, but I’m not sure if it's meant for me to engage in conversation or Wesson is simply talking to himself.
He does this when he’s frustrated and always has. Rambles more to himself than to the person in front of him. I guess he just needs to talk it out from time to time.
“Bottom line, we figure it out,” I state feeling as equally uneasy as he is.
“Yes, this is going to be so easy we can just make it up as we go … not. How does this sound? Emmalee Van Etten, I’m here to whisk you away in my chair and van,” he jokes while I seriously ponder how the fuck we are going to do this. “I’ve never been told to get a girl to trust me before. Finally, a job I can do easily!”
“Dude, stop. We have to get them to come willingly. While women easily think you’re like fuckin’ Prince Charming that doesn’t mean they’re gonna believe a word that we tell them. I’m pretty sure Diem thinks I’m a dick.”
He shrugs his shoulders, “That’s because you are an absolute dick.”
“Not funny!” Even if it’s the damn truth, he doesn’t have to remind me.
To this, Wesson laughs. “Hi Diem, I’m Kick, the man who fucked you against a wall. You don’t know shit about me, but the basic run down is, I’m six-three with a good job, a credit score of eight hundred, STD free, and your dad is going to sell you to the Irish mob because he has no choice unless you come away with me right fucking now!”
I sigh because that very truth is absurd, but it’s what we’re dealing with, “Yup, that’s so going to work.” Granted, I’m not one hundred percent sure that Thomas Reigns has sold her to the Kelly crime family, I do know the man is in deep and he’s sinking.
Thomas Reigns has double crossed Patrick O’Leary who is in charge of the Irish crime family Kelly. Whether he intends to offer up his daughter to the fifty-five-year-old crime boss or if O’Leary has simply targeted Diem as leverage, I haven’t figured out yet. While the Hellions keep digging into it, Tripp ordered Wes and I to befriend Diem and Emmalee while keeping an eye on them. His concern is if O’Leary or any of the Kelly crew move in on Haywood’s Landing we will need to lock the women down at the compound. Given things that have happened in Hellions history, it is never good to bring a stranger into our place without feeling like they have someone at their back.
Wesson and I have the two beautiful women to protect and we will. Diem has this pull to me I can’t deny. Therefore, I can’t really complain at the task in front of us.
Bottom line, no matter how it’s twisted and no matter what has or has not been agreed to yet… Thomas Reigns is in over his head with the Irish. Whatever dealings they have done over the last thirty years, the shit is now hitting home.
The Hellions won’t tolerate it.
We can’t.
Control is everything.
We let one thing slip and we lose all the power we amassed over the years.
The drive to the park isn’t far. The good thing in all of this is my brother—who was sober at the club—actually exchanged phone numbers with Emmalee Van Etten. He’s been casually texting her since that night.
Whereas, I’m the asshole who fucked Diem Reigns in a hallway without so much as giving her my name. Yes, he has the in we need with these two right now, and I’m grateful for it.
We pull up, and I notice the women are in yet another vehicle. Thomas Reigns is one of the most wealthy and influential businessmen on the east coast. In the information we procured on Thomas Reigns, he has a fleet of vehicles, so this isn’t surprising. However, if he wants his daughter to blend in, driving a pearl white Mercedes isn’t the way to do it.
Wesson gets out of the van, and I follow, letting him take the lead. As we approach the vehicle, I can hear Diem talking.
“Emmalee, what part of my dad said to be aware did you misunderstand? Meeting two Hellions is like walking into a fire pit of trouble.”
“We’re not in danger.” Emmalee fires off. “Your dad is just wanting to keep you right under his thumb. Diem, we’re never going to be on our own. You realize your dad rules everything … including us.”
“Don’t make it sound like that,” Diem argues back.
For a moment, I wonder if we should give these two a moment to sort their shit. It’s apparent they aren’t on the same page. I shake my head as Wesson rolls right up to the window and taps with a smile on his face.
Emmalee holds down the button sending the window into the door.
“Thank you for meeting me,” he begins.
Diem throws up her hand silencing my brother. “I’m sure you’re a nice guy and all, but we have somewhere to be.”
Damn, she’s fierce.
It makes me hard. I love a challenge. I move to the driver’s side and watch as Diem tenses, but she doesn’t panic. Whatever her father has shared with her certainly has her on edge. She’s smart, but honestly neither of them are smart enough because they have met with us too easily. I’ll need to teach her to think on her feet and don’t give in to anyone. This urge to protect her settles deep in my soul in a way I’ve never experienced before.
“If we wanted to hurt you, that would have happened New Year’s Eve.” I remind her of the very vulnerable position I’ve already had her in. “We need to talk to you. Preferably in private.”
Diem looks to Emmalee, who looks to Wesson before nodding.
“I’m going to text you an address. When you pull up, use this remote to park the car in the garage,” Wesson explains tossing a remote in the window. “This is so no one will see you with us and think anything that could arise suspicions or in your case,” Wesson looks right at Diem, “your father doesn’t lose his mind and lock you in a tower.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically, but doesn’t argue. Apparently, she understands her father has the ability to secure her away.
Without another word, we head back to the van and then off to the rendezvous location. Everything about this feels wrong. I want nothing more than to lock Diem in a house like Wesson joked about her father doing. At least until I sort out exactly what is going on with her car and her father’s business problems.
We called the sermon to alert Tripp and the rest of the club as to the current situation. Tripp being Tripp, his priority while keeping Haywood’s Landing clean of drug trafficking is the safety of Diem and Emmalee. Tripp doesn’t tolerate women being used in any business dealings as leverage.
Talon “Tripp” Crews is the overall Hellions President and a damn good leader. One thing is a priority to him—keeping innocent people out of the line of fire in things of our world.
We don’t deal drugs.
Ever.
We don’t stand for them being in the area either.
We don’t push guns. We provide safe transports of goods. Whatever the product is in the transport we don’t ask questions, but we don’t sell the items we simply provide a service. And we rarely get involved in transporting people. It has happened on occasion but not in a way where a person is being bought or sold, it’s just not who we are.
Patrick O’Leary is known for his drug trade, arms dealings, and even the trafficking of young women from foreign countries. The uglier the business, the deeper O’Leary’s involvement. The entire Kelly crime family organization that goes all the way back to their true Irish roots have been a legacy in the United States since the eighteen hundreds. During Prohibition, they pushed more bootleg liquor than any mafia. No matter the task or the law, they find a way to keep their family running as a top organization and it has been this way for decades.
Thomas Reigns agreed to do something he didn’t have the power to do. At least on the surface that is what we think, but at this very moment, we’re still looking into it all.
Now, he’s beginning to see the impact of it, and all for what? Some money in his bank account that still isn’t bailing out his bleeding financial crisis. He’s been sinking in a way that even the Kelly family money can’t get him out of.
We pull into the subdivision three houses down from where we expect Emmalee and Diem to go. Parking the van, Wesson and I get out. Given the slight slant to the driveway, I guide my brother’s wheelchair down to the street where he takes over.
The majority of the houses in the subdivision are Hellions owned properties that are used as rentals. Therefore we control the security cameras in all of them but four. Those four are not on this street. Crunch is smart in real estate investments and has everyone involved in what he calls mail box money. He maintains the tenants and contracts his brother Tommy Boy to do any repairs since Tommy Boy is a licensed contractor. They make the perfect team now that Crunch is clean and sober from all the drugs. The Oleander brothers have a strong business in flipping houses and when necessary we are given houses to use like today.
“Never gonna get used to that shit,” he mutters no doubt frustrated about me helping him with his chair.
“Wes, it’s not a problem,” I repeat the same line I give him frequently.
He shrugs. “You be a man with a real cock and tell me how you’d feel having someone help your ass to the street.”
It’s not often Wesson gets bitter about his chair. He has mood swings and the expected ups and downs, but this level of animosity only happens when he’s caught some feelings for a chick and he begins to feel insecure. He uses a regular wheelchair because he says it lets him feel like he still has some use. He has an electric one at the house, but rarely is it used.
With his reaction to me helping him, he’s got it bad for Diem’s friend. Good to know where he stands with Emmalee.
She matters to him, therefore, she matters to me. This fact increases my need to wrap this up neatly for my brother.
We make our way to the house where the women have already pulled in to the garage. Inside, it’s a regular cookie cutter subdivision home. The single-story house has a three bedroom, two bath layout.
“What is going on, Wes?” Emmalee asks while Diem studies me.
Her eyes bore into mine as if she is trying to read me. I want to laugh. Adjusting my junk, yeah, I want her to read that. My cock is always ready for her attention. As for anything else, she’s never going to figure me out.
She doesn’t know a single thing about me other than the way I make her body come alive. I promise grown men can’t read me, so the exotic beauty in front of me will never know what’s in my head.
“What do you know about the damage to your car?” I ask rather than answer Emmalee.
Diem looks to her friend and then back to me. Neither of them immediately answer.
“Look, I get it, you don’t know shit about us. So, let’s begin with my name is Colt Vaughn. Everyone calls me Kick. This is my brother Wesson, everyone calls him dickhead,” I joke, raising my hands and giving them a smile. “Seriously, though, everyone calls him Buster as in knuckle-buster.”
Neither woman relaxes. They don’t speak, so I guess we need to continue our little tell-all.
“We both served in the Army,” Wesson adds. “I know trust is something earned. You’re safe with us.”
Diem makes a noise showing her disbelief. I can’t stop the smile that builds on my face. Good. She shouldn’t believe shit about shit unless her gut tells her something is okay … like fucking me in a hallway at a club.
“Let’s go to the living room,” I offer, leading the way and taking a seat on the loveseat while Emmalee and Diem sit together on the couch and Wesson remains in his chair.
“There has to be some level of trust, you came here,” I explain, calling them out on the reality they chose to come here. Obviously, I need to change tactics. So, laying out the facts I can share with them will be my new method.
“Look, Kick, Colt, whatever you want me to call you,” Diem pipes up waving her hands around.
“You can call me Daddy if you want,” I say with a smirk. And that’s when the tension leaves the air. Diem smiles and something inside of me comes alive.
She shocks me with her reply. “Why do you care about my car? You’re getting paid to fix it. What do any of the details matter?”
Smart lady, she is.
This is good.
“Let me ask you this, what is your first thought when I tell you I’m a Hellion?”
She leans back against the sofa but keeps her eyes on me. “Trouble.”
I nod. “What’s your first thought about the life of a biker?”
She doesn’t hesitate in answering. “Trouble.”
“What do you think people’s first thought about you is?”
She closes her eyes and sighs deeply. “That I’m a spoiled bitch.”
Well, damn, I didn’t expect that level of honesty.
“Are you?”
Diem leans forward as Emmalee gasps in surprise at my bold question. “No!” Diem defends. “I’m not a bitch. Spoiled, sure, but I’m grateful for the blessings I have in life. I give back, and I don’t care what kind of money or possessions anyone else has. I like people for who they are, not where they come from.”
“You live in a bubble,” Wesson adds, and Diem turns to look at him.
I actually find myself slightly annoyed that her attention is no longer on me, but on my brother. I’ve never cared to have a female hold a conversation with me before, so what is it about her that makes this different?
“That’s a bit presumptive. Just because our parents support us financially doesn’t mean we aren’t aware of the world’s problems,” Emmalee defends, and Wesson reaches out to cup her chin.
“Gorgeous, you live in a bubble,” Wesson lays it out for her, keeping her face locked to his. “The world isn’t where the danger lies. Sometimes, it’s right where we sleep.”
Emmalee blinks as fear crosses her features.
“We’re not going to hurt either of you. We’re trying to help you,” I explain, trying to ease the tension in Emmalee.
Diem turns her attention back to me. “Then, tell us why you even wanted to talk to us here. Why couldn’t you have your get to know us chat at the park?”
Perceptive, but she’s a little late to be asking that question since they are here in this house without anyone knowing about it.
“You know the Hellions control Haywood’s Landing.”
They both nod.
“Someone trashing expensive cars doesn’t sit well with our club.”
“Right,” Diem says dramatically. “What’s the catch? You may think we live in a bubble, as you say, but no one simply wants to step in and help some random vandalism.”
I shrug my shoulders. I’m not going to lie to her and say we don’t have reasons behind what we’re doing, but I can’t share that shit with her.
“Just trying to sort out the why of it all, spitfire. Calm your tits, and hear me out.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue with me.
“Do you know why your cars were both hit?”
“Because I fucked you in a hallway like a whore,” she challenges.
For a moment, I wonder, is she feeling guilty? Is she ashamed? A thought hits me like never before … I wouldn’t want a man to fuck my sister if I had one and not even bother giving her his name. The thought of her regretting hooking up with me, well, that shit cuts deep in a way I wasn’t expecting.
Now, who feels guilty?
The asshole that is one hundred percent me.
“Okay, Diem, I think we got off to a wrong start.”
Wesson twists in his chair, eyeing me suspiciously.
“I’m a dick. I fucked you in a club and didn’t even have the decency to tell you my name or ask yours. I won’t lie and say you’re the first. I will tell you that you will be the last.” The words fall from my lips, and I can’t fathom where it’s coming from, but I mean it.
“Wesson and I have a mom who …” Fuck, I can’t finish the sentence.
I grab the back of my neck.
“Our mom was a whore,” Wesson continues, and I glare at him. He is unfazed by me. “Not because she wanted to be, but you see, we’re Hellions. The club life is,” he locks eyes with Emmalee, “different. Our mom needed to protect us and herself from our biological dad. That meant earning some safety. She found a way to do it and it was by being on her back.”
Diem softens, and I stand to pace the room. “Okay, this isn’t the time for a walk down memory lane. Obviously, you have your assumptions about us, and we have ours about you. Does it matter? Not a damn bit. Bottom line, our mom raised us to be the kind of men not to tolerate the disrespect of a female.” I look to Diem and hope she understands the sincerity in my words. “I disrespected you. I apologize. We aren’t going to stand down while someone tries to torment either of you.”
“It’s just a car,” Diem challenges. “We’re not in danger.”
I throw my hand up to silence her. “You don’t know that, and we don’t know that. So, appease the two little boys inside of us, and let us help you in a way no one did for our mom until she met Boomer and the Hellions.”
Wesson adds, “We can’t help when we don’t know the why. We can’t know you’re safe if we don’t know what we’re up against. We can’t tell our Momma who works in the garage that the two hot chicks with the fucked-up cars haven’t been defended.”
Okay, he laid that on a bit thick, but he is not wrong. Mom knows about the tag on Diem’s car, and she was not happy. Then again, a woman who let people call her Purple Pussy Pamela in public for years all so she could know her boys were safe doesn’t like for any woman to get some label when no one knows the ride they have been given in life.
Diem looks to Emmalee and then to me. “Fine,” she mutters giving in. “My mom had an affair. The car was simply a message to my dad.”
That is half the truth. The car is a message to her dad, but it has nothing to do with her mom. I don’t tell her this, though. Tripp requested we get a feel for what they know without giving away too much. He also didn’t want to trigger Thomas Reigns, so it’s important we don’t piss either woman off and send her running back to Daddy Dearest.
But finally, after all this … conversation … we are getting somewhere.
Conversation with a woman I am attracted to, what a new concept for me. When is the last time I actually cared to talk to a broad?
High school, maybe.
Diem Reigns isn’t some spoiled bitch. In fact, she’s not a bitch at all. If anything, she is a strong woman who hasn’t found herself yet. The level of confidence she carries is attractive, but to think of the woman she will be when she figures out her direction in life, well, that’s a turn on all on its own.
And fuck me, I want to be there for it.