Mel's stomach tightened as his gaze took in the room, catching a couple of frowns from the other patrons. Everyone in the place had seen them come in with their colors so there was no way they could've missed the fact that they had bikers in their midst. A fact most of them seemed to have a problem with. "Is there going to be trouble?" He kept his words to a mumble only loud enough for the other men to hear.
"Hope not," Silo said, taking a deep drink of his beer and then letting his own eyes roam over the room. "But shit happens."
"We're not here to fuckin' cause trouble, right? But we ain't gonna pussy out if it fuckin' goes down. Remember to be a Hellion is to know power and to be in control of whatever situation you fuckin' find yourself in," Dice advised, his eyes never leaving off its scan of the room.
Mel and Transport glanced at each other and then nodded. This is crazy, Mel thought. They hate us because we ride?
Their group had ordered another round when two large men stepped up to their table. And large in their case meant fat, their jeans held up by belts pushed in and underneath their rotund bellies.
"You boys ain't wanted here," the older of the two advised while his friend nodded.
"Reason?" Dice shot back, nonchalantly looping an arm over the back of the booth.
"Saw your fuckin' colors. And the Czars never gave permission to have Hellions here."
"Czars?" Silo threw out his one word question as he crossed his arms on his chest.
"Black Czars. Livingston is Czar acreage and your unexpected visit ain't fuckin' welcome."
Mel saw Silo and Dice's demeanor change with the man's words.
"I'm going to reach into my back pocket for my phone and call Trey Jackson, president of HMC-Missoula, yeah? Can I have him call whoever holds the Czar gavel?" Dice had folded his hands on the tabletop with Mel and Transport copying his move. Mel didn't want to give the other bikers any excuse to start something. The man who had only nodded pulled out his on cellphone, took a couple steps back and made a call.
At the older one's nod, Mel heard Dice speaking with Trey before being given the number of the Czar's pres. After Dice disconnected, Silo slid over motioning to the recruit's to do the same.
"Might as well let us buy you boys a drink while the big fucks talk things through," the large man offered, his bald head gleaming in the different LED lights scattered around the bar.
"Don't mind if we do. I'm Storm and this here's Yak," the older man advised sitting with a plop that caused a wheeze from the seat. Mel felt the tension ease as the men joined them at their table. It didn't take long and cell phones rang.
After quickly finishing his beer, Dice stood and made a point of shaking hands with the two men thanking them for the way they'd handled the situation. On the way across the parking lot, Dice explained his call with Trey. "He said we were to get the fuck out of there AS-fucking-AP. He's never heard of the Czars and is trying to get a fuckin' location on where Bishop is so he can get the skinny on 'em. Said we're to leave before sunup tomorrow and to avoid Livingston on our way back except to fuckin' blow through."
Mel looked at Silo and saw his look of concern. In Mel's mind, that was lesson number two for the evening. Number one had been about going to public places and where to sit in order not to put himself at risk. But the latest one had put him on edge. That he could find himself in deep shit if the local club discovered his affiliation and his presence was there without their expressly given permission.
When they got back to the hotel, Silo pulled the two recruits aside. "Want you two fuckers to sleep with one eye open tonight due to what just went down. Tomorrow night'll be better 'cause we'll damn-well be on fuckin' Hellion-Sheridan property. Stay alert and don't open the fuckin' door without checking to see who it is, all right?"
Mel tried to keep a neutral face but his stomach did another hard clench at the advice.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
From the way the other brothers had talked of them, runs were supposed to be a good time even if it was for business. A way to let off some steam and alleviate the need to ride for as long and as far as a biker could go. At that moment, Mel held a different opinion.
Although, he felt a hell of a lot better the next morning when the signs for Livingston were in his rearview mirrors.
*.*.*.*.*
I received a very nice and very sincere apology for my little 'gift' from Silo even if it contained a lot of curse words.
"Sorry. Didn't know it wasn't the right goddamn shit to do, princess," he'd said looking earnest. "It won't ever fuckin' happen again. Just wanted to make you feel better. Get you back to being your fuckin' sweet self, you know?"
Like I said, nice. Or as nice as a biker could make it. "Thanks, Si. I appreciate and accept your apology," I said trying to smile as if I meant it.
In dropping off the mail to the various offices, I overheard Brand detailing that Mel would be out of work on club business for the next few days. Something I considered a good thing. I didn't want to be pursued or chased in order to be given his regrets—that is if he'd even figured out what he'd done.
Although I did still count him as a friend and had hoped we could've been more together.
But the biggest hiccup to my day was when my little Fiat conked out in the middle of North Russell. My auto club card had been in daddy's name so using it was a no go. Without thinking twice, I called the yard phone at HC and was told a tow truck would be there shortly. After about fifteen minutes I saw the truck emblazoned with Hellion Construction on its doors make its way to where I stood. Luckily, North Russell had a center lane so traffic was able to go around me and my nonworking car.
"Miss Palmer? I'm Gritty and I'll be your ride today." The redheaded man that met me was wearing a Hellions MC vest with the word 'recruit' in a patch on the front, just like the one that I'd seen Mel wear. Gritty wasted no time in getting my little car connected to the truck before asking me where we were towing it.
"I don't think there's a Fiat shop in town," I replied nervously. "So I'm not sure where to go."
"Fiat's foreign, right?"
I nodded.
"Then IMPORTance is the only place to go," Gritty said shooting me a grin. "My brother works there so maybe we can even see about getting you a deal!"
"First they're going to have to figure out what's wrong, though," I sighed, facing the passenger window but not even noticing the view outside. I hated car trouble and always felt like my lack of automotive knowledge put me at the mercy of whoever knew more than I did. Which was everyone.
But in less than thirty minutes I'd handed over my key and signed paperwork so the shop could investigate the problem with the assurance that they would call me with the results the following day.
When we were back in the truck, Gritty asked for directions to my place. After giving it to him, I wondered aloud how I was going to get to work in the morning.
"Oh, no worries. We can either pick you up tomorrow or bring by one of the extra rides from the yard tonight. Whichever you prefer." Gritty seemed very happy to have had an immediate solution on hand.
"I don't want to take up so much of your time, though."
I got another grin as Gritty said, "it's what we do, Miss Palmer. Just let me know and we'll take it from there."
So we worked out that he would pick me up the next morning and take me to work. Depending on what the repair shop said, I'd then make my decision regarding a loaner. As we worked out the particulars, I saw two motorcycles pull into the apartment's driveway and drive slowly passed us.
"Ghosts?" Gritty asked, eyeing them as carefully as they were eyeing us.
"Yes. I think two of them live across from me."
"That's not good, Miss Palmer." All traces of humor was gone from the young redhead's voice and face as he shut off the truck and reached for the handle to exit. "I'll walk you to your door but you need to get inside quickly and make sure you lock up tight, okay?"
I had been nervous about livi
ng across from the other club's members but something in Gritty's voice had icy tiptoes of fear moving up my back. "Uhm, okay."
"I'll see you tomorrow morning at seven but I'll bring a different ride," he said as his head moved from side to side as we stepped up the walkway to my apartment. "Do you want me to check your place before you go inside?"
Was he kidding? Was he really that concerned that someone had been in my home? I just stared at him, blinking.
"Let's get you inside first and I'll just do a quick walk through, all right?"
I could only nod as I unlocked my deadbolt and keyed entrance. He placed me against a wall next to the door as he quickly made his way through the different rooms. "Okay, all clear. Be sure to lock up after I leave and close all your blinds and drapes. I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Palmer."
"Thanks for all your help, Gritty." I wasn't sure if I was supposed to tip him or not. "See you in the morning."
He flashed me a smile before he let himself out and I made sure all the locks were engaged before moving throughout to do as he'd instructed.
I wasn't feeling so cozy in my cute place anymore.
Chapter Seventeen
For Mel, the lessons regarding the club, how the rest of the world perceived both it and him, just kept on coming.
Their group had left Livingston by six a.m. but just two hours later, on the other side of Billings, a pair of County deputy sheriffs pulled them over. After patting them down, studying their identification, the cops decided to take them in. Six hours later they finally made their way back to where they'd parked their bikes to continue on. The delay was explained as a 'problem with the computers in verifying your information'. But Mel had seen the disappointed, pissed off looks on the cop's faces when Silo, Dice and Transport were able to produce their CC along with their other IDs.
It was harassment, pure and simple, in Mel's eyes.
As they traveled back to their rides, in a local taxi that shuddered, shimmied and coughed down the highway, Mel heard Silo call Trey to give him an update.
"Naw, Trey. Just to fuck with us. Can't remember it being this bad on our last run to Sheridan," Silo rumbled. "Yeah. We'll see how it goes and I'll talk to Wolf to figure out what's doing around here. Will do. Later."
The big man caught the looks of the others and explained. "Trey wants us to stay on our toes and see if Wolf knows what's going on 'cause this shit ain't cool. Wants us to stay in touch but to get our asses fuckin' back at the soonest."
"No shit," Dice mumbled from his place in the center of the back seat. "So we gonna see to Hart first, yeah?"
"Yeah, but we're gonna have to make tracks to get there before he closes. This is supposed to be a surprise meet, dig?"
All of the men in the backseat nodded.
Fortunately Tim Hart, of Hart and Sons Land Development, was still in his office by the time they arrived. The older lady working the desk closest to the door tried to tell them Mr. Hart was unavailable, but Mel could tell she was lying. There was just something in her widened eyes behind the thick glasses that let him know she was running interference for her boss.
"We'll just have a little look-see," Dice said, striding confidently to the closed door on the left. He'd obviously been at the offices before and knew his way around.
"You might want to call it a day, sweetheart," Mel advised, leaning over the older woman's desk. Without a word, she turned off her computer and reached in her drawer for her purse before hightailing it out of the offices.
"Wait here," Silo advised as he followed Dice. Mel and Transport looked at each other.
"What'd do we do?" Transport asked.
"Don't know. Wait, I guess." Mel was just as curious as Transport about what was expected of them. Soon, though, the voices behind the door Silo had closed behind him got loud. Then even louder.
The door opened and Dice poked his head out. "We're gonna need some help here, boys."
Mel followed in behind Transport and saw a average looking man, probably in his mid-to-late forties sitting behind a cheap looking desk. The sparsely haired guy looked terrified and only became more so when he took in Transport's height and Mel's bulk.
"So the amount is $46,775.32," Silo barked. "Your choices are immediate payment in fuckin' full or our men here get to fuck you up. And we'll be back every week until the balance is paid. Comprende?"
"B-but I don't have that in the b-business account." Mel could see the man was shaking and sweat was beading across his forehead and upper lip.
"Ahh, now we're fuckin' getting somewheres," Dice breathed. "See before you said you didn't have it. Now it comes out you just don't have it in your damn bidness account. Interesting."
"Don't give a fuck what accounts it comes from, just want the fuckin' money that's owed." It wasn't hard to miss the menace in Silo's deep growl. "We take fuckin' cash, credit cards and checks. What'll it be, motherfucker?"
"I-I just d-don't have that k-kind of…" Hart started, using a hand to wipe the sweat that was starting to drip down his face.
Dice signaled Mel and Transport forward. They each went to one side of the desk and grabbed one of the man's thin biceps. Mel was convinced he could've broken Hart's arm with just a hard squeeze. The guy felt even skinnier than his kid brother.
"Half! I t-think I c-can raise half!" The man's voice was climbing into the screaming range of the vocal scale.
"Half? Oh, half ain't gonna do it, Charlie. But, I'll tell you what. You get us three quarters and my boys will only give you fuckin' half a beat-down." Dice was slunk down in the visitor chair in front of the desk as if he hadn't a care in the world. "And that just means they won't put your ass in the fuckin' hospital."
In Mel's opinion, the shade of green on Hart's face was heralding whatever the man'd had for lunch was going to be making another appearance. Still holding the scrawny arm, Mel stepped back and behind the chair a bit to remove himself from the anticipated trajectory.
"Let me…let me check my personal accounts and credit cards," the man said on a swallow before pulling his keyboard towards him.
"Now you're talkin'," Dice said with a wink.
"Why don't you two go in the other room so we can give the man some room to work." Silo's suggestion was offered with a smirk.
Mel and Transport left the office, closing the door behind them. Once they were in the center of the room, Transport turned and leaned towards Mel. "You ever done this kind of shit before?"
"Yeah. Back in Texas," Mel admitted. "Had a hard time with it in the beginning but finally figured out there's all sorts of assholes that need an incentive to pay. Some men just need a personal visit or a beat down to cough up the money they owe."
"Shit." Transport turned and looked out of the one window. "I've never done this before. Fights, sure. But I was pissed off then. How do you fuck someone up when you ain't pissed off?"
"It's actually easier. 'Cause you aren't pissed off you can assess how much and where to hit. Can figure out when to quit and not go overboard. But I'm not gonna lie, the first time is hard." Mel could feel himself slipping into his chill-mode, the sinking into himself in order to do what needed to be done to another person even as he explained to the other recruit.
"Shit, man." Transport placed both hands on the top of his head, interlacing his fingers. "So how do you do a half of a beat down?"
Mel chuckled softly. "Don't know if there is such a thing. I think what Dice was saying is that we make him hurt, leave him bruised and bleeding a little. Just enough so that he feels it for a week or so."
Silo opened the door and then closed it behind him as he walked to where the recruits were standing. "He's up to 80 percent and now fuckin' talking about getting his brother-in-law involved for the rest. You're still gonna have to work him over though."
Mel nodded. He understood. Hart needed to receive a message and that message was you don't wait 180 days before paying a Hellion bill. Not that Hart would ever get a chance to work with the construction company again.
One thing Mel had learned in his time with the company, other businesses got one chance to fuck up. And that fuck up would cost them dearly in the loss of having HC as either the general or even the sub-contractor on their developments. Once word got out that HC wouldn't work with them, other reputable firms took the cue and declined to bid as well. Leaving the owner no choice but to hire inferior firms that charged more and did less than quality work.
Dice stuck his head out the door. "Bishop verified all funds transferred and the Hart bill is marked paid in full."
Silo nodded at his brother before turning back to the recruits. "You're on, boys."
Mel glanced at Transport and led the way back into the office. He knew what his fellow recruit was feeling but knew, too, he'd eventually get over it. To find a way to deal with working a man over that would only leave small, bitter memories.
Reinventing Mel: A Hellion MC Novel Page 15