One Ride (The Hellions Ride)

by Camaron, Chelsea

  Checking in, I let Roundman know we will be delayed. Something in this doesn’t feel right. This is not at all how any of our previous dealings with Delatorre have gone down. I rub my hand on the back of my neck, trying to work away the tension radiating throughout my body.

  “You straight, Tripp?” Tank asks as he’s changing gears.

  “Yeah, I’m alright. Shit feels off though. Not our typical run.” My phone rings before we can talk more.

  “Crews,” I answer.

  “The caddy followed you on the break off. Stay aware. He’s closing in on your six. Do you want me to send extra wheels?” Conductor states with his normal firm tone.

  The tail watched who has the double up on back up, damn it. Tank and I decided to stick with only one of the additional cars and let the others have two each. We have Slice, Tank, and me. Slice being our additional car, while the other two trucks have two cars with them. They’re clearly following the truck with the least man power. Calling one of our cars, I find out the Cadillac SVT has four men inside, the other small car has three men, leaving the three of us against seven. The odds aren’t bad, but shit isn’t good either. We’re armed, but it’s drama we don’t need following us home.

  “No, call Slice. Tell him to back off us, and circle around. We’ll be at the truck stop in Lumbee. If they follow us in there, we’ll chat. Slice is to make no moves, just wait and watch. Understood?”

  Finishing up my phone call, Tank is already making the appropriate turns to get us to the location. He pulls the truck up to the diesel pumps and stops. I ready my glock. Tucking the pistol in the waist of my jeans against my back, I exit the truck as Tank is prepping his weapon and logging the miles and hours. Sure enough, as planned, the caddy pulls in behind us. What’s surprising is the boldness of the car, as it parks directly behind our rig. Glancing over my shoulder, I’m aware of Slice arriving. He’s parked out of sight from the caddy’s location. If things go wrong, he’s close enough to step in and help while Tank leaves.

  I nod to Tank making him aware, the shipment comes first. He’s not to exit the truck. If these boys want to fuck around, he’s to pull off and leave Slice to back me up. The other boys will catch up and cover him. Knowing there is a risk, but also knowing this is my job, I approach the vehicle. Aware of my weapon, but not showing any signs of being armed I tap the window.

  The car has four tattooed Hispanic men inside. The guy in the passenger seat rolls down his window with a smirk of arrogance on his face.

  “Can I help you boys with anything?”

  The fucker actually chuckles at me. My anger boils immediately.

  “I’m Pablo. We work for Mr. Delatorre. Consider us quality assurance.”

  “Well, Pablo.” I stretch out his name, my annoyance evident in my tone. “I don’t know who the hell Mr. Delatorre is, or you, for that matter. We are a corporate transport company. Nothing we ship is for private individuals. So, mister quality ASS….urance, you’re already fucking up your job. If you would back your car up and pull away, you might have enough time to catch up to whatever truck it is you are supposed to be on its ASS for insurance. This ASS has a delivery and deadline to make.” I step back off the window and cross my arms over my chest.

  “That’s your story…..mister….I didn’t catch your name. What is it?”

  “You didn’t catch my name because you have no need for my name, Amigo. Now turn your fucking car around and be on your way.” I start to walk away, but I’m halted momentarily as his last words are said out of the window.

  “Mr. Crews, I know who you are. We will leave you, as you have assured me our shipment is safe. Your other boys better be as quick witted and quiet with details as you are. See you around, Talon.”

  I don’t look back as I hear the car start and then pull away. I fill the truck up with fuel as I run my fingers through my long hair. He called me by my given name, not Tripp. My business lists everything as Tripp Crews. The trucks are all unmarked, no business names, only our licensing numbers for the state Department Of Transportation checks. Who the hell is Pablo? What is he to Delatorre? How much does he know? Having someone we’re in Hellions business with know my real first name isn’t an issue. Being confronted on a transport, however, that screams trouble. Taking this job has become one huge mistake for the Hellions. Shit just got real deep. Fuck me.

  One Threat

  The weekends always pass much too quickly. Savannah spent the entire weekend with Nick. Glad that hookup is working out so well for her. We’re getting ready for work. My bestie has a glow and a smile on her face that I haven’t seen in a very long time. Maybe Nick will be good for her.

  I’ve been on edge since the encounter with Mr. Felix Delatorre. Part of me wants to tell my dad what happened, but the other part knows that would cause problems. My dad is extremely over protective. Delatorre is right; I shouldn’t have stuck my nose in his business with Amy. She obviously didn’t use the card. Maybe I misread her plea for help.

  All the way to work, I’ve been thinking of the situation with Felix. The domino effect this would have on the Hellions business would not be good. I don’t know how much money he spends for our transport and storage. What I do know is my dad and his boys. The minute I tell him Delatorre showed up at my doorstep, business ties will be severed. That’s the least of what concerns me. My dad going off the deep end, feeling that I am in some way threatened, that concerns me. He and the other Hellions walk a fine line. One wrong move, people are going to federal prison, not just an over nighter at the county jail. Having a client dispute would run the risk of blowing the whole transport business wide open.

  Gathering my resolve, I make the only decision there is to make. Keep my mouth shut. From now on, I’ll keep close to Hellion grounds, try not to be alone, and keep focused on everything surrounding me. As much as my dad would make this problem go away for me, it’s not good for the Hellions as a whole.

  Even as a female, I know the club comes first. That’s the first rule of being an ol’ lady: understanding the club is always priority one. I’m no one’s ol’ lady, but I keep the club focus as my first priority. There are more things to consider than my own insecurity here. In time, I’m sure Felix Delatorre will tire of whatever cat and mouse game he’s attempting to play and move on. People depend on the Hellions for a lot. I won’t risk the security of the club, as a whole, for my own dumb decision to help a stranger. Who knows, Amy might’ve been high that day. It could’ve been a test against the Hellions and how much we’ll be involved in Felix’s business and personal life. Either way, it was my mistake to reach out to her and it’s my mistake to face alone.

  Settling in at work, I’m busy catching up on messages from the weekend. The door chimes, alerting me that someone has entered. Once again, Amy is almost pushed ahead of Felix Delatorre. The one person I want to not exist in my little bubble of the world is back in my very office. Damn it. The fresh bruises across Amy’s face are clearly evident now. I no longer question what I saw on her before. Her lip is swollen and cut like its healing from a recent altercation. She’s in a mess, but what, if anything, can I possibly do? What kind of man is Felix Delatorre to prance her around in public looking like this? The abuse is obvious. Is he not concerned with the ramifications of such behaviors? Is he big enough that he truly feels above the law?

  “Hello, Delilah.” He snarls. Clearly, he’s not happy about something. The foreboding feeling that shit is about to hit the fan engulfs me.

  “Mr. Delatorre, what can I do for you?” I ask making sure to steady my voice to cold indifference. Never let anyone see you are affected or vulnerable. Weakness is like love, hold it close to your heart and only show it to those who will protect and cherish it.

  “Where is your father?”

  Before I can answer, my dad emerges from his office. He must have been watching the camera monitors in his office.

  “Delatorre, what do you want?”

  Felix leaves Amy standing off to the side as he a
pproaches me. He’s now standing to my right, inside my bubble. He’s too close for comfort. His arrogance and irritability is coming off him in waves.

  “My shipment seems to have taken a detour, Mr. Reklinger. I’m here to ensure that everything is on schedule.”

  “And what exactly does your presence in my office do for your transport? Riddle me that, Delatorre?”

  “I have men following each vehicle. My presence here is only brief to make sure my message is clear.” He steps closer to me, bringing the back of his hand up to stroke my cheek. I back away. “Tsk, Tsk, Delilah, remember I know how to get to you day or night. Do not shy away from me.”

  Before I can reply, my dad has Delatorre against a wall, by his throat. I watch in shock as Delatorre squirms against my dad, gasping for air.

  “Let me make my message clear, mother fucker. You ever lay one fucking finger on my daughter again I’ll cut them all off and feed them to you for dinner. Business is business. You stay the fuck away from my family. Your shipment’s on its way and I’ll say when the fuck you’ll get it now.” My dad drops his hand from Delatorre’s throat, and shoves him roughly one last time.

  Felix, the sick fucker, laughs. That’s right, laughs in my dad’s face. “Oh Roundman, your code of honor to protect your women is such a joke. I’ve already been to your precious Doll’s home. Fuck with my transport, I will get to her again.” Looking at me, he continues. “Fuck with my personal life again and you won’t see another day.”

  My dad pulls the .357 Magnum from my desk drawer. Shit is seriously about to hit the fan. Amy screams in fear. Delatorre quickly backhands her. She falls to the floor, holding her already battered face. Blood trickles from her now reopened lip wound.

  “You’re a dead fucker, Delatorre. Let me make this clear. Get the fuck out of my office. You won’t know when or where, but I promise you if it’s the last mother fucking thing I do, you’ll pay for threatening my daughter.”

  “I will leave for now. Be warned, yourself. Don’t fuck with my transport, Reklinger. If I don’t have my shipment in Virginia on time, and complete, your daughter isn’t going to be the only one I’ll fuck with. I will take every single one of those bitches you Hellions keep so close. Each time they cry out for one of you Hellions, I will make them choke on my dick, while I carve my name across their breasts. Then while they bleed out, my boys will fuck them in every way imaginable. Their torture and deaths will be on your shoulders, and I will make it slow and painful. And your precious Doll here, will watch each and every single one of them all the way until their last breath.”

  He yanks Amy up from the floor by her hair, half dragging her out of the door. My dad lowers the gun and glares at me. He’s more than ready to kill Delatorre, but won’t because of my presence.

  “Did you know he knew where you lived?” I don’t answer. I don’t know how to answer. My dad is red with rage. I’m scared to move. This man, burly, big, and scary has always been my teddy bear, until this very moment. My body is trembling as the adrenaline is slowing down.

  “Answer me Doll. Fucking answer me!” My dad roars, slamming the drawer shut.

  “Yes.” I whisper.

  “And you didn’t fucking tell me? Shit, Doll, do you know what he could’ve already done to you? Damn it to hell! He knows more about all of us then I realized.”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t want you to flip out and get into trouble.” I say weakly.

  “Flip out and get into trouble? Fuck me, Doll. You never put yourself in danger for me or any fucker! Damn it. Stay put. You go nowhere alone, and you stay here on the compound. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” I answer. Tears flowing down my face as the fear sets in. After giving my dad the rundown on exactly what happened with Delatorre at my front door, including my evening with Alton, I’m overwhelmed with thoughts of what will happen next.

  His last words before walking into his office are on repeat in my head. “What’s done is done, what’s been said, can’t be unsaid. This fucker found my daughter. This fucker came to my territory and threatened the people I love. This fucker is going to the ground.”

  Hanging up the phone, I run my fingers across my jaw. Damn it, I don’t know what went down, but shit got serious. Roundman is calling for a meeting in the cave. An off schedule sermon with zero notice means trouble. Considering our encounter with Don Juan Pablo and his troop, I would say we’re in some shit. And they would be my target numero uno.

  “What’s going on Tripp?” Tank asks. “I just got a text from my crew that sermon has been called immediately. That means as soon as we pull in, everyone is waiting in the cave for us. We’ve been followed. And now you’ve got the look like someone killed your damn dog.”

  “I don’t have a clue man. Roundman said hold the shipments tight. Call the crew to catch up and every patched member is required at sermon.”

  “Hammer down son, let’s get home.” Tank replies as he pushes the gas pedal. Due to our lack of knowledge of what is contained in the trailer, we can only exceed the speed limit in places we know we won’t get pulled over. Although we have most of the police stations in our back pockets and on our payroll, there are always those one or two cops that want to do everything by the books.

  ***

  Pulling into the lot, we quickly unhook, and secure our trailer. My crew arrives, as well as the other two transport trucks. We make our way inside the cave. The room is bland, void of real decoration outside of the black and red of our colors. The flags on the walls are Hellions insignias, and the few pictures in frames are our Hellions history living on through captured memories of previous events. In the middle is a long rectangular table that seats sixteen. Chairs along the walls fill the remaining space, with a large standing safe in the far back corner.

  Tank is a Haywood’s Landing Hellion; he’s the Road Chief to be exact. He takes his place at the long rectangular table. Officers only at the table, patched members take the side seats along the walls of the room. I take my seat beside Rex, four places down from Tank and six places down from Roundman. As Prez and VP of our chapter, we get table seats.

  Roundman calls the sermon to order. He sits there quietly, his age suddenly apparent to me. Roundman is tall, built, and covered in ink, full sleeves that go up his neck. His long graying hair pulled back and his goatee does nothing to hide the serious look crossing his face. He’s fifty eight, but most days he carries himself with the agility and attitude of a much younger man, with a lifetime ahead of him. The look he has in this moment is one of worry and one of age. He’s obviously bothered by something.

  “Fellas, Oscar Delatorre has fallen ill. He has passed his business dealings down to his son Felix Delatorre. We’ve completed the first half of the transport under Felix’s command. He does his business much differently than his father.”

  I shake my head, this cannot be good. Sharing the specifics of business dealings with all the active members is definitely out of our normal procedures, big shit is going down. Roundman takes this time to catch everyone up on the side business we have.

  “Bottom line, Felix is a control freak with some bigger issues. He threatened not only Doll, but every Hellion woman. He plays dirty boys, and needs to be taught a lesson. He’s clever. I underestimated him. He came on board under a guise of being Oscar and the job was agreed upon long before I knew it wasn’t a job for Oscar, but one for Felix. Therefore, we’re goin’ on lock down for families. Pack your wives, girlfriends, moms and children. Get them settled into the duplexes. As for each of you, go to work, and be normal. Set up a schedule so the compound is double or triple guarded now. We’re going to complete the transport, as that is the business transaction. Then we’re going to teach the fucker that Hellion women are off limits, even in conversation. Danza, Tank, Tripp, Frisco, and Rex stay behind. The rest of you are dismissed to pack your shit. I want every single one of you and your families accounted for on the compound TONIGHT! No fucking around! Dismissed.” He slams the gavel down.
>
  Once everyone exits the cave, Roundman continues. “Danza, the girls aren’t safe. He knows where the condo is. He confronted Doll on the front porch when she returned from a date.”

  A date? Doll was on a date, hmmm. I wonder who with. Is he a Hellion? A suit? I’m quickly brought back out of my thoughts.

  “He’s made it clear. He can get to them if he wants to. Until he’s eliminated the girls aren’t safe. Typically I would put them on lock down with everyone else. This time, I’m not comfortable with that. I don’t want them anywhere near what I’m going to do to that son of a bitch. Let’s send the girls off on a ride while we take care of the issue. After we bury the fucker, we can bring them home. There are club affiliations nationwide that we can send them to that will keep them protected and safe.”

  Danza replies, “Damn it. I don’t like the idea of them being so far away. He’s already gotten too close, though. If that piece of shit knows where Savannah and Delilah live, it’s serious trouble for the girls. Neither of them seem to know how to shut their mouths to stay safe. I’m in.”

  “Alright, let’s head over to the office and let the girls know.” Roundman states and we leave the cave.

  One Request

  My dad is on his way over to my office. Savannah is here, all of a sudden, at the request of her dad. Given the threat of Felix Delatorre, I have a feeling a lock down is coming. The door chimes and I look up to see Tank walk in first. He approaches Sass and I. Standing, I greet him with a hug. I move out of the way as he pulls Sass into him. Reluctantly, she hugs him back. I can hear him talking to her.

  “Sass, be mad at me all you fucking want. Please, right now, keep that sexy as sin mouth of yours shut. Don’t fight this okay? For me, please. I need to know you’re safe so I can do my job.”

  Before either of us can further question what he’s referring to, the door chimes. In walks the familiar face from my recent fantasies. His shoulder length dark brown hair is hanging down now, rather than pulled back as it was on our first encounter. His face set in a stone like frame of seriousness. The golden hazel of his eyes is sparkling with lust and passion as he stares straight at me. He’s in jeans, a navy blue t-shirt, black boots, and his cut. His friend from the barbeque is with him, as well as my dad, Danza, and Frisco.