The Possibility of Trey (A Hellion MC Novel)

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  He caught her smile before she tilted her lips up and let him devour her mouth. And found himself immediately hard and thinking in terms of the rooms in the back in spite of their earlier fun.

  "You freak, you come get me, yeah?" he advised before letting her go.

  "You betcha, sweetie." And with a wave she went to go join the Honeys at one of the far tables.

  Trey walked to where his brothers were gathered leaning heavily on his cane as he stepped. His leg didn't so much hurt as ached which he blamed on the goddamn cast.

  Immobilize the muscle, my ass, he thought ruefully as he continued his slow progress.

  "Hey, brothers! What's doing?" He called with a chin lift.

  "Yo, Prez."

  "Hey, Trey, how they hanging?"

  "Saved you a spot," Dare called, standing up from one of the benches. Trey saw it was Huff's turn at the grill and the air in the compound was starting to smell damn good.

  "What'cho drinking, Trey?"

  "Bourbon since my lady's driving."

  He saw one of the recruits walk towards the clubhouse doors to fetch him what he'd ask for. There were definite benefits to being the 'big dog' as his girl had called him and to being slow on his feet.

  Soon he was caught up in all the bullshit being slung by the group around the grill. Who brought up past glories which he knew had been added to and amended over the years. They talked of brothers long since gone and some of the shit they'd gotten themselves into. Of when they themselves had been young and were taken to task by other, older brothers of the club.

  "But you had it easy, Trey, seein' how your ol' man was Hellion. Shit, you grew up in it so the rules weren't as hard for you to learn," Dice said at one point.

  Trey caught the look on Bishop's face and his headshake at the Dice's words.

  "Bullshit! I had just as much to fucking learn as the rest of your punk-asses. Only when I fucked up, I caught hell both here and with the folks! One time Zip didn't like my mouth or my attitude and gave me a beat down with his own fucking fists. When I got back home all fucked up with cuts and bruises and shit, my old man took me out in the backyard and fucking gave it to me again. 'If the club gives you a goddamn taste of justice then you get it fuckin' double at home'. That's what he said. Double at home. So go on and tell me I had it fucking easy!"

  "Same for me," Bishop added with a chuckle. "Only my grandpop liked to give it with an audience so he'd drag my ass back to the fuckin' compound and do it again."

  "Fuuuck that's harsh," Dare breathed. "A humiliating beat-down."

  "It's the Hellion way." Trey brought his cup to his mouth as he remembered growing up in the club.

  "Not a whole lot of kids anymore," Silo pointed out.

  "Not a whole lot of steady couples full stop," Brand added. "Why is that?"

  There were more than a few shrugs and a couple of 'don't knows' in response. But the question stuck in Trey's head.

  Some of the meats were done so brothers began to fill their plates and retired to the tables to eat. Trey watched as the men moved by and realized that a lot of them, especially the newer ones and the recruits, took their cues from him on what to fucking do and when. As it always had been with whoever held the gavel.

  It hit him that if the Prez of the moment was married then other brothers bonded as well whether they made it legal or not. The same with kids. If the top man's old lady squeezed out a couple of little hellionettes, there'd soon be a rash of pregnancies in the club.

  Having a future brother raised as a Hellion did make it fucking easier, he admitted in spite of his earlier protestations. A lot of the behavior was already a part of them before they became a recruit. So did his previous mode of playing it loose and free impact the future of his club and his brothers?

  Abso-fucking-lutely.

  Without a goddamn doubt.

  Trey held up his glass and waggled it in the direction of one of the recruits, silently asking for a refill. As the kid moved away, he heard Huff say, "awful quiet tonight, Trey."

  "Just thinking." Trey turned to look at the large blonde as Silo took the seat next to him. "You and Carly ever think about kids?"

  "It's been discussed but not decided."

  "What about you and Reese?" he asked Brand and saw a bronze flush color the other man's cheeks.

  "Next year. I want time with her before our little ones come."

  "What's with the Q & A? You and Sheridan thinkin' on it?" Dare asked on an incredulous note.

  "Think we're gonna take the more traditional road, amigo. Execute the fucking 'I do' shit first," Trey mumbled, realizing even though he'd been thinking about it for a while, he'd never actually said it out loud before.

  "You've asked?" Bishop's face was a study of shocked.

  "Not yet." It shouldn't have been a hard convo, not with his fucking brothers, his inner circle, but Trey realized he was starting to sweat. "How'd you ask, Brand?"

  The Croatian man started laughing. "I did not ask. I told her. Told her it was for her own protection. And she negotiated saying it was only temporary."

  Laughter rang out at his words since every man knew the Jovanovics were about as far from temporary as you could get. When things settled, Trey turned to Huff.

  "Carried the fuckin' ring with me for a goddamn week before I found my balls. Shouldn't have sweated it though. As soon as I was holding the damn diamond and spit out 'will you' that was far as I got before Carly was screaming 'yes' at the top of her lungs."

  "You remember when Big Duke asked Dee? Right there in the clubhouse before one of our meetings?" Dare asked the group at large.

  "Most fuckin' romantic thing I'd ever seen," Bishop mumbled, tilting his beer bottle up to finish it. "True, I was only twenty-something but damn that was sweet."

  "Canvassing for ideas, Trey?" Silo's voice held a note of teasing and got the bird in reply.

  "Okay, now that we've gotten in touch with our pussy side, think I'll fuckin' see about getting me a tasty piece of pink," Dare announced, standing and running a hand down the legs of his jeans. "Have a need to prove my masculinity and all that shit."

  Catcalls and whistles followed him as he made his way towards the Honeys.

  Silo leaned into Trey and lowered his voice. "If you're serious, I've got a line on a guy that can cut you a fuckin' sweet deal on a set for Sheridan."

  "Thanks. Got that covered, amigo. It's the other part, the asking, that has my fucking balls up in my throat."

  The bald man chuckled. "Yeah, I can dig it. Especially with Sheridan. A 'no' from her would fuckin' injure, man."

  Christ! He hadn't even considered she might tell him no!

  Trey turned to look at his girl. When he finally spied her, she was laughing with her head thrown back and small hand slapping the table.

  Having fun.

  The clench in Trey's stomach eased as he watched her.

  *.*.*.*.*

  I was just putting the finishing touches on my bedtime routine when I heard Trey call out to me.

  Glancing in the mirror, I saw I was still smiling. I'd had a good time at the party. Actually, a great time as I talked, laughed and joked with my girls through most of the night. And I'd felt safe with Trey within yelling distance. The fact that I could see his tall, hot form at my eye's beck and call throughout the evening hadn't hurt in the least.

  As the night had worn on, I'd found myself sitting on his lap or as much as I could considering his cast. We were both tired of the damn thing and I was hoping the doctor would take it off at Trey's next appointment.

  My fears hadn't been realized about couples screwing themselves silly in front of me. The most I'd seen were a few deep, deep (and hot) kisses accompanied by some roaming hands. Titillating but not embarrassing in the least. But then, Trey did say it got wilder as it got later.

  I was glad we'd left when we did.

  "Yeah, sweetie?" I replied, leaning against the bathroom doorway. He was already in bed, his amazing chest and arms bared for my
viewing pleasure.

  "Want to talk to you a second, Tex."

  Uh-oh. He sounded serious. Had I fucked up at the party? Said or did something that reflected badly on him? I thought I'd been very aware of what I'd let come out of my mouth knowing that things could be taken out of context or twisted by some of the other meaner Honeys. And I'd thought I'd pretty much kept it on the down-low.

  I crawled up onto the bed and kneed my way to where he was. "Yeah, Trey?" If he was going to take me to task, I was going to shoulder it like a woman. I just wished he flipping get it over with because the silence and his constant swallowing was unnerving!

  He cleared his throat. "I know we haven't been together long and you're still getting used to HMC ways…"

  Damn! This was killing me!

  You must've really fucked up, my mind warned.

  But what'd you do?, my heart wailed.

  "…but, you've become important to the club."

  Okay, yeah. That wasn't bad but I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  "And to me. Especially to me, Dallas." That was sweet and said in his 'sexy' voice with a soft look in his eyes, which calmed me a bit. "Been thinking about this for a while and came to the conclusion that I fucking can't imagine a life without you, honey."

  Wait…what the hell? This sure as shit didn't sound like an ass chewing!

  I glanced down at what his fingers were fiddling with and saw it was a dark blue square box. I looked back up to see his eyes dead on mine.

  "I want us to be together. Forever."

  My body went into cement mode as my mind raced to make sense of what he was saying.

  "Dallas Alison Sheridan, will you marry me?"

  I took in his voice and the anxious expression in his eyes and felt even my breath stop. In all my wildest imaginings, I would've never, ever come up with the scenario I was in.

  "My big bad-ass motherfucking biker wants to marry me?" I squeaked out, not having enough breath in my lungs to give my question the true volume it deserved.

  "Well, yeah," he answered with a frown but he might as well have said 'no, duh' because the tone was the same.

  All I could do was blink. My mind was on telling my parents, his parents and the club. On the ribbing I was going to take from my brother and my crew. On the whens and wheres of it all as well as wondering if I was going to have to suck it up and wear a dress for the ceremony.

  "You going to answer me, Dallas?" There was a note in his voice that brought me back to the present and let me know I should've answered first and thought second. It was hopeful yet nervous and maybe even a little bit afraid.

  "I will marry you, Stephen 'Trey' Jackson. Gladly!" And I threw myself against him, my mouth already reaching for his before we'd even fully connected. When we finally had to come up for air, he pulled back a bit.

  "You want to see your ring?"

  "A ring? You got me a ring?" My voice went back into the squeaking range.

  "Fuck, yeah." He brought his hands between us and our foreheads pressed together as we both looked down. In the box was a huge garnet surrounded by small glittering diamonds on a gold band. "Do you like it, pretty girl? The color reminds me of that fucking sexy underwear you wore when I was in the hospital."

  He slipped it on my finger and I couldn't help but whisper, "it's beautiful."

  "Not as beautiful as who's wearing it. I love you, Dallas."

  I took his face in my hands, feeling the weight of my new ring and gazed deeply into his red-browns, the most perfect shade of brown eyes. "I love you, too, my Trey. Now and forever."

  "Then show me, pretty girl. Give me a tasty piece of your pink."

  "Eeww, did you just call my girlie parts 'tasty pink'? That's just flipping wrong on so many levels." I was kind of serious but was laughing at the phrase nonetheless.

  "Yeah, well. Get used to it. Heard Dare say it tonight and decided I'm damn-well adding it to my fucking vocab. The very idea of getting a piece your pink makes my cock ache, Tex, just like the fucking thought of its taste."

  He pushed up and twisted, taking me with him as he moved me onto my back. His voice was a deep rumble but I got a double-shot of dimples before he asked, "think you're gonna be able to fuck me and only me the rest of your life, Dallas?"

  "I can if you can," I teased. "With pleasure."

  #.#.#.#.#

  Did you enjoy 'The Possibility of Trey'? It was a helluva lot of fun to write and because it contained it so many characters from one of my previous books I felt like I was visiting with old friends.

  Please leave a rating on whichever site you purchased the story.

  If you haven't yet read it yet, here's an excerpt from Reese and Brand's story, 'Hiding in Plain Sight' which is the prequel to the Hellion MC Series. I've also included a rough cut of the next in the HMC books, 'Reinventing Mel'. There are even plans to include Dare's story and I, for one, want to know more about Bishop, too!

  Hiding in Plain Sight

  Brand pulled the motorcycle into the huge truck stop, angling it next to a gas pump. They needed gas, food and a toilet and this complex, just off Interstate 70, met all their requirements. With any luck, he might be able to find another helmet. The goggles he'd donned after giving her the only secure head covering, had to be cleaned every twenty miles or so. But that's what you got when you traveled the back roads… bug carcasses over any exposed part of your body.

  He dropped the kickstand and eased off the seat, his ass protesting with every movement.

  Glancing around the huge forecourt, he made a point of seeing who was or wasn't paying attention to him. Or more importantly, to Renee.

  He'd been surprised how little fuss she created in his haste to get her some place where she could arrange for her car to be towed and repaired. She'd done as he'd asked by holding him tightly and only once signaled that she needed to stop for a bathroom break about two hours before.

  As she pulled the heavy helmet off, he moved to her backpack and opened the pocket he'd seen her tuck the hat in.

  "Hey!" she barked, whipping her head around to glower at him. "Get your mitts off my stuff, Bayco!"

  He leaned down and put his mouth against her ear. "I want you to pack all your beautiful hair underneath your hat and put your sunglasses back on," he instructed softly but firmly. "Otherwise, keep the helmet on and the visor closed."

  Her response was simply two deep blinks before she did as he had demanded. He acted like he was digging in one of the panniers as she did so, blocking the view of her between his torso and the large gas pump. Once her face and hair were hidden, he filled up the tank, his body still on alert with so many others around. When he was done, he started up the bike and took it out into a space adjacent to the bathrooms before shutting off the motor for a second time.

  He got off the seat again but stayed right next to her.

  "Here is what we will do. You go into the Ladies room and do not come out until you hear my knock, understand? You will stay inside for however long it takes me to get food and use the facilities myself. I will double knock three times. Do not come out until you hear them," he said. His voice was again very firm, not allowing for any argument or negotiation.

  She nodded jerkily, her eyes very wide.

  "No, Renee. I need you to repeat it back to me so I know you will do as I ask," Brand commanded.

  "I'm going to the ladies and stay until I hear three double-knocks," she replied, her wide eyes glued to his, and he saw her lower lip quiver when she was finished speaking.

  "Good," he said. "I will not be long."

  He watched as she carefully swung her leg over the seat and stood up. They had been on the bike a long time, so he wasn't surprised when she stumbled in taking her first step. As he caught her arm, he felt her tremble. "I do not do this to frighten you," he tried to explain. "But to keep you safe."

  "I ain't scared," she snapped back, her face lifted to his as she yanked her arm away. "Stop with the grabby hands, all right? My legs just have
those pins and needle thingies."

  Brand couldn't help his grin as she flashed a bit of temper, but he didn't speak or move until she was securely behind the closed door of the facilities. Quickly making his way to the Men's room, he took care of business as well before he washed his face and combed his hair, catching it in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. All this was done as his mind wandered over the puzzle of her.

  He had pieces of information, glimpses of what was true and what wasn't, much like having only certain parts of a complex puzzle. He'd gained more knowledge when they'd stopped to allow her to relieve her bladder in a cornfield at sunset.

  When she'd left her backpack behind, propped against the back tire of his bike.

  He hadn't been shocked by either the handgun or the stacks of cash as he had rifled through it. They merely added to his curiosity. He'd already tried putting the bits together, but he was still missing too much information for the dissimilar pieces to make cohesive sense.

  He'd considered and discarded several different theories of who she was and why she was running.

  Drug user had been his first thought until he'd seen the luggage and her mouthiness at his carrying the water, but instructing her to bring only enough clothes for four days. Fashion was not a priority when you had a chemical habit that heavy.

  Drug smuggler had been his next choice, especially after the discovery of her firearm and the money, but she would've had a backer. A backer who would've ensured she had a nice run of the mill, working car to do their work. Plus, she would've been traveling the interstate, hurrying to get the money back to whomever.

  Someone running from the police?

  No, she was dressed too brightly in a way that could be remembered. Most people running from Johnny Law preferred to blend into their environments, even if they were out in the boonies.

  So. She was running from someone but didn't really know how to do it. The tired, worn-out car with the Missouri plates spoke volumes about her ignorance and lack of connections in obtaining an untraceable mode of transportation for her journey.