Born to It
Hellions Ride On Book 1
Written By
USA Today Bestselling Author
Chelsea Camaron
Copyright © Chelsea Camaron 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Chelsea Camaron, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.
This is a work of fiction. All character, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
1st edition published: June 18, 2018
Editing by: Asli Fratarcangeli
Author Lifesaving Critique Partner: Ryan Michele
Cover Photograph Credit: Deposit Photos, Ibrak (Jasminko Ibrakovic)
Thank you for purchasing this book. This book and its contents are the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied, and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes.
This book contains mature content not suitable for those under the age of 18. Content involves strong language, violence, and sexual situations. All parties portrayed in sexual situation are over the age of 18. All characters are a work of fiction.
This book is not meant to be an exact depiction of life in a motorcycle club, but rather a work of fiction meant to entertain.
*** Warning: This book contains graphic situations that may be a trigger for some readers. Please understand this is a work of fiction and not meant to offend or misrepresent any situations. There is quite a bit of violence, so if that’s not what you’re looking for, then please don’t read. ***
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Also in this series:
Hellions Ride On
Born to It (BW and Karsci)
Bastard in It (Red and Kylee)
Bleed for It (Axel and Yesnia)
Bold from It (Colton and Avianna)
Broken by It (Karma and Maritza)
Brazen being It (Drew)
Better as It (Dia)
This series is a stand-alone spinoff from the Hellions Ride Series. While you can read this series without reading the first series, the reading order for the Hellions Ride is as follows:
One Ride
Forever Ride
Merciless Ride
Eternal Ride
Innocent Ride
Simple Ride
Heated Ride
Ride with Me (Hellions MC and Ravage MC Duel) co-written by Ryan Michele
Originals Ride
Final Ride
Born to It
Enemies to lovers, this is one passion fueled ride … are you ready?
BW
Third generation Hellions MC patched member—earned, never given.
I’m the son of Talon “Tripp” Crews and namesake to my grandfather Blaine “Roundman” Reklinger.
I was born to wear this cut, to take this ride.
I am Blaine “BW” Crews.
I deal in motorcycles, money, and mayhem.
Karsci
I wasn’t born a killer. I was made into one. Earn my place on my back or by my blade … I choose option two.
I am Karsci “Fox” Sheridan.
I deal in death, dollars, and destruction.
When she’s pulled into his world, they have one choice—end each other or hang on for the ride.
Hellions Family Tree
Blaine “Roundman” Reklinger
(Haywood’s Landing Original – overall President and founder to the club)
married to Claudia Reklinger – one child
Delilah “Doll” Reklinger Crews
Talon “Tripp” Crews (Catawba Hellions President in One Ride – ends up Haywood’s Landing and overall President)
Married to Doll
Tripp and Doll have two kids –
Blaine Ward Crews (BW)
Dia Nicole Crews
Rhett “Danza” Perchton
(Haywood’s Landing Original – overall VP – retired)
married to Mary Alice – one child
Savannah “Sass” Perchton Oleander
Frank “Tank” Oleander (Haywood’s Landing Hellions and overall VP)
Married to Sass
Tank and Sass have four kids -
Kenneth “Red” Oleander
Rhett “Crunch” Oleander
Kellum “Pretty Boy” Oleander
Thomas “Tommy Boy” Oleander
Tommy “Rocky” Fowler (Haywood’s Landing Original)
married to Marie – one child
Dina Renee Fowler Davenport
Richard “Frisco” Billings (Haywood’s Landing Original - retired)
married to Amy Mitchell – they have one child together
He has a daughter from a previous relationship with Tilly
Dedication
To every reader: There’s a lion inside of us all. Don’t fear the beast but embrace the bold. For each of you who have given the Hellions MC a space on your e-reader and your time inside the pages, this next generation series is for you.
Michele: You simply get me when I can’t always understand myself. You push me to think clearly and even though in my mind I’m Wonder Woman, you’re the brave one to bring me to reality that sometimes I gotta slow down and chill out.
To my Little Lion: Sheba, my precious diva dog. As I worked on this project, you left my side and crossed the rainbow bridge. It’s been far too many years since I’ve reached the end of a project without reaching over to pet you as I finished. I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes when you aren’t at my feet or beside me. We had so many plans for so much ahead in our family and now you’re gone. It still doesn’t make sense, but cancer never does, even for animals. I love you my fuzzy and you’ve forever left your paw-prints on my heart.
For Tracie and Pigs: T-dawg, we love them with everything we have. We treasure the time we get and we grieve the loss when they are gone. Hold onto the memories and know that Pigs and Sheba are together watching over us both.
Playlist Repeats
Find me on Spotify for the full playlist I used while working on this project!
Key artists on repeat:
Papa Roach (as always)
Eminem (as always)
Five Finger Death Punch (as always)
Christina Perri
Lorde
Yelawolf
Thirty Seconds to Mars
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Other Works by Chelsea Camaron
Excerpt from Bastard in It (Hellions Ride On 2)
Excer
pt from Power Chain (Power Chain Prequel) co-written by Ryan Michele
Prologue
Blaine
Born to It
The Tail of the Dragon, Deals Gap, North Carolina.
The ride for life is love, loyalty, and respect. This is how I ride, because this is the legacy. This is how the Hellions ride.
My shoulders feel light. I don’t fucking like this feeling, not one single bit. I want my cut back on my body where it belongs.
Soon enough, I remind myself.
I’ve waited years for this moment, what’s another hour or two. This is just more time to take it all in, absorb every feeling.
I remember the first time I wore the leather vest. I was five years old when my dad was in the shower. I slid the heavy garment on my shoulders and climbed on my parents bed. While attempting to jump up and down, I pushed my body harder with my legs to accommodate the weight. I lifted myself up and over with my dad’s Hellions cut covering me to my ankles. Over and over again, I went up and let it wrap around me as I came down on the mattress. Every fall I took it came with me always covering my chest and back. My mom found me first and took pictures. My dad came out and took the leather from me and smiled proudly telling me one day I would have my own, but I had to earn it. This isn’t something you can buy at the mall. It’s full of history, tradition, and the sacrifices of the Hellions who came before me.
That day is here now. I was eighteen when I got my cut and the Prospect patch. It’s been hell doing everyone’s bitch work. Today though, today it’s a full rocker set and the title Brother that comes with it.
The honor, the respect, they are all mine.
The sun peeks in through the old curtains of the biker motel as it begins to rise over the mountains. The joint isn’t fancy, but we don’t come here for the amenities. It’s tradition. Everything about this place is a step back in time to when my grandfather was alive and built this club, this family. The view is beautiful. Nothing less could be expected on a day as powerful and important as today. It’s like Mother Nature knows how important today is and she made sure the weather would give us the best memories.
Today is the day I ride the Tail of the Dragon. It’s a rite-of-passage in the Hellions Motorcycle Club. Upon completion of The Tail ride, I will be presented with my cut again as a fully patched member of the Haywood’s Landing chapter of the Hellions MC.
Rising for the day, I stretch before heading to the bathroom and getting ready. Since today is so important, a party is sure to ensue, and therefore for once I don’t have Red as my roommate. Typically, we would all be bunked up two to a room unless you’re one of the brothers with an ol’ lady. As a prospect we didn’t get shit anyway, but today I have the room to myself so tonight I can find a bar fly for some pussy later. Before that though, I have to finish something I was born to do.
I’ve waited my whole life for today. Twenty-one is the age to earn my final rocker. Finally, after years stuck as a prospect doing the shit work for my dad and all his brothers, I get to be a fully patched member of the Hellions Motorcycle Club.
A club I was born to. A club my grandfather built with his friends who were family of their own making. A club that began in the small coastal North Carolina town of Haywood’s Landing and it now encompasses multiple charters throughout the Carolinas. With additional affiliations, connections, and markers we are protected and respected nationwide. My grandfather, Roundman, built this all by his word and deed.
His name is the name I now carry on.
Blaine “Roundman” Reklinger is a legend. One round, one shot, it’s all he ever needed. He was ruthless in business and gave no fucks about anyone but the people he called family. No one crossed him or his club, if they did, they paid with their life. He was everything this club stood for and who they stood behind. My mother, Delilah “Doll” Reklinger was his whole world outside of this club. To this day, years after he’s been gone, everyone still talks about him with the utmost respect. My mother gave me the best piece of him she could. She gave me a strong man’s name.
A name I’m proud to claim, and today a tradition I’m honored to carry on.
The Hellions, we aren’t a bunch of thugs. We’re not a gang. We’re not some outlaw, one-percenter diamond patch wearing crew fighting with the cops. We don’t shy from trouble, but we aren’t hell-bent on stirring it up either. We strike back because we won’t stand down, but if we’re left alone, we leave others alone. It’s a code and it’s simple don’t fuck with us and we don’t fuck with you. We’re about our freedom, our lifestyle, and protecting each other.
We are family.
Sure, I’ve heard the stories about the club skirting the line of the law. We aren’t choir-boys. We just don’t seek out illegal activities in the businesses our clubs run. There are things I don’t know about because until today I wasn’t a fully patched member. I’m sure the future holds more for me to learn, but at my core, I know who we are and what we represent. The side jobs we take for the club, well, yeah we’ve gone down for a handful of things, but overall we aren’t known for dealing drugs, guns, or pussy—patch or not, I know this holds true. We run transports. Sometimes do we break laws? Yeah. Sometimes, yes we have shed blood. There isn’t a line we won’t cross if provoked. Sometimes do we land ourselves behind bars? Yeah. Sometimes shit just happens.
Together we rise and together we’ll fall. More importantly, together we’ll rise up again.
I work in the garage for the most part. Occasionally, I take on a transport, but not often. Turning wrenches alongside my dad, Talon “Tripp” Crews and his brothers we restore, rebuild, and maintain cars of any make, model, year along with any motorcycles. It’s lucrative along with the mini-storage business and of course the transports.
As I climb on my custom Harley, I feel the smirk build on my face. I can’t help it. Shit is as real as it gets today.
Before I can crank my machine and pull away, my sister Dia comes running out of her room straight to me with our mother on her heels. Dia’s blonde hair is wild around her face as our mother who is the most beautiful woman I know has hers braided tightly down her back ready to ride. The two look like sisters instead of mother and daughter. Our mother doesn’t seem to age and our dad, while he has a few wrinkles, will still kick my ass or anyone else’s. Our parents are tough, but fair and have raised us with a firm hand. Given the thing I’ve gotten into over the years, well, my sister and I haven’t always made shit easy for them. Me, I like to drive fast and I’m fucking fearless. My sister, she’s got fire in her veins for blood and doesn’t take shit from anyone. Talking her down can be a full-time job for our mother sometimes.
“I’m ridin’ with you, BW,” Dia calls out to me as our mother shakes her head behind her. Oh no, this is a fight. I see the determination in my sister’s eyes. That look is the one that is going to break some man one day.
While I’ve taken my sister on plenty of rides, I know the rules about today. This ride, I can’t have a passenger. This is about my cut, my place in the club and has nothing to do with my little sister, Dia Nicole Crews.
“Not today,” Mom tells her.
I shrug my shoulders. “You aren’t ready, Dia. Your hair’s gonna tangle up and you’ll be whinin’ later if you try to ride like you are,” I explain to my sister trying to diffuse the situation.
I may be a grown ass man and my mother might be almost a foot shorter than me when I stand, but I know that woman will have not a single issue whipping my ass for disobeying her. My mother won’t let her size stand in her way. When she’s fired up, well Hell hath no fury like her. No matter how old I get my father won’t let me disrespect my mother in any way, shape, or form. Sorry to my sister, but our mother is a tiny tornado that will pick me up, spin me around, and land me flat on my ass. They both stop just in front of my bike which I balance between my thighs effortlessly.
“Why?” Dia challenges.
I want to laugh and say, because mom said so
. But I don’t. Instead, I watch mixed emotions cross our mother’s face just as our father comes up behind her joining in the argument.
“What’s going on?” Dad asks Dia.
“I came out to catch BW so I can ride The Tail with him, but Mom said not today. Every Hellion rides The Tail. I wanna go too.” She’s fifteen going on thirty-five and thinks she can override any rule.
Our dad looks to our mom who gives a soft sigh. Her eyes take on a far-away gaze like her mind is somewhere else as she speaks.
“Sweet, Dia. I’m gonna tell you like my father told me. It’s not BW’s place to take you on The Tail. The Tail of the Dragon is a hidden beauty. This two-lane mountain road has over three-hundred curves in an eleven-mile stretch. It takes an experienced rider.”
Dia laughs. “So you don’t think BW can handle the ride. Not sure he should get that final rocker to complete his patch if he can’t keep little ol’ me safe on a few curves on a mountain.”
“You cocky little shit,” I fire back at her.
Our dad steps up to her. “Watch yourself, girl,” he says harshly before his features soften. “Dia, The Tail is a ride of many things. It’s a ride the Hellions have taken longer than you’ve been alive. It’s a ride of focus, where a man is forced to clear his mind. It’s a ride where a man is forced to accept the things he cannot change, challenge the things that he can, and be open to the possibility of new horizons in the future. He must become one with his bike or one with the pavement under him. The Tail has claimed a number of bikes and bikers to its gravel top. It takes skill. This is a serious moment and an important day for your brother.”
My dad speaks in a way that is almost poetic for a rugged biker. Each word is full of passion and history from our club.
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