Taking a Dare - A Hellion MC Novel

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  They'd used their honeymoon to go to Spokane and clear out her place. He and a handful of the Spokane brothers had just spent the last four hours loading all her furniture and a shitload of boxes onto a Hellion Construction truck, arranging it all so they could fit her motorcycle in as well.

  She'd given notice to Haven and had already exchanged tearful goodbyes to her former staff and kids. Something even Dare found himself getting a bit choked up over. From his place on the sidelines, he'd been able to see how much Ryley loved the Haven, her staff and the kids. And how much she was valued and loved in return.

  They'd attended a fuckin' combo congrats and farewell party at the Spokane clubhouse that had found his new wife more than slightly buzzed. Which he'd taken more than advantage of when he'd gotten them back to her place. Sex with Ryley sober was fuckin' awesome. But doing the nasty with her half-drunk was off the motherfuckin' charts! And something he planned on making sure happened at frequent intervals.

  Christ, the way she used that wicked mouth…

  "So, which truck do you want me to drive?" she asked, coming into the empty room and hitching up her form-fitting jeans.

  "You're riding with me. Blaze is behind the wheel of the HC ride," he replied, pulling her to him.

  "Blaze? How's he gonna get back?" she asked tilting her head back to look into his eyes as she braced her hands on his chest.

  "He's not. Trey gave approval for his transfer." Something that had surprised the shit out of Dare, but then he wasn't aware of the full story, of all the doings that had gone down. Nope. He'd been blissfully unaware of anything but Ryley over the last four or so days. Even keeping his nose out of the Hellion Spokane club's shit.

  "Do you think he and Lock are going to make a go of it?" Her eyes seemed to shimmer at the thought of her best friend finally being with Blaze. Dare shrugged. He couldn't be bothered with thinking about other fuckers and their relationships. There was only one he wanted to concentrate on and that was his own.

  He watched Ryley's eyes as they dropped to her hands. He knew what she was looking at for probably the hundredth time that day just as she had done since he'd slipped it on her finger. A cushion-cut, Sea Blue Aquamarine ring surrounded by white diamonds and then chocolate diamonds set in white gold. As soon as he'd seen how the aquamarine exactly matched his girl's eyes, he knew it was the ring for her.

  But he'd been surprised that she'd given him a ring in return. Just a simple wide band that Ryley later told him was black chrome and cobalt. He didn't give a shit what it was made of. All he knew was that it was the motherfuckin' bomb and was as bad-ass as a wedding ring could be. Even Bishop and Silo had said so. Although, Si hadn't seemed happy to see it, much less to comment on it.

  "And then there were two," the big, bald biker had repeated again and again on a doleful note throughout the reception. A kick-ass Hellion kind of reception which had been held in the Missoula clubhouse after he and Ryley had gotten back from the Justice of the Peace's office. Lots of booze, great eats and surrounded by their friends from both clubs helped to round out Dare's perfect fuckin' day.

  Even Gus had laid low, keeping his thoughts to himself which Ryley said they needed to accept as their wedding present from her dad. What-the-fuck-ever was Dare's opinion on the old man. He figured he'd let Ryley worry about her father's doings and just keep himself to himself in that fuckin' arena.

  He was trying to maneuver his girl out the door so they could begin the trek back to Missoula and start 'playing house' as he liked to think of it when his cellphone rang with Queen's: 'We Are The Champions'. The ringtone he'd assigned for Trey.

  "What's doing, brother?" Dare answered, swatting Ryley's ass while he stepped away to take the call. His eyes followed her steps as she made her way to where the Spokane men stood. Then watched as she made a point of hugging each of them who had helped box and then load up the truck so she could leave them. Men who she'd known for most of her life.

  But his wife didn't seem unhappy to be leaving Spokane. More like sad to realize she wasn't going to see her club brothers as often as she used to.

  "Wanted to give you some updates before you finally get your ass back to work." Trey's answer was given on a grumble but Dare knew his brother was pleased for how things between him and Ryley had, ultimately, worked out. A fact the big guy had admitted to while deeply in his cups at their reception. So damn drunk that Dare and Dallas were the ones that had poured him into their ride when the pres couldn't walk on his own.

  When Trey didn't continue, Dare walked further until he was next to his truck parked in Ryley's driveway. 'Old driveway,' he corrected himself. Why wasn't Trey speaking?

  "Rio overheard Lulu taking a message from a Sheriff Gentry and told Gus. The old man put two and two together but didn't have the full info when he made his play."

  Interesting, but nothing for Dare to worry about in the scheme of how everything had gone down. Dare waited somehow knowing his former foster-brother and now leader of his club wasn't done.

  "Gus turned in his president's patch today." Trey finally announced on a low note.

  Holy fuck!

  But Trey wasn't finished. "Asked for formal permission to have Dee transferred to Spokane."

  "How's Dallas takin' it?" Dare asked hesitantly. Most times, he and his brother's kept their noses out of the other men's relationships but Dee was helping Dallas to become a Honey. Hell, to fuckin' lead the Honeys.

  "She's beside herself," was all Trey would admit to and Dare more than got that Dallas was having trouble at the thought of not having Dee to lean on. "I'm hoping your girl will help fill that gap. Secondly, have heard from Benzo, the new gavel holder of the Czar's. When he discovered the notes and internet shit that Ham had on his computer, he freaked. Seems the Vita Diablo's want to hold the Czars accountable for the loss of revenue on the meth seized in Big Horn."

  Dare processed that info before he realized Trey's unspoken question. "You want me to contact Jim?" Dare took Trey's silence as confirmation he was to make the call. "And tell him what?"

  "To call the Sheriff's department for Park county, which is who I told Benzo to get the word out to. Together the two badges can work that shit out." Dare realized it was a smart move on Trey's part. In allowing the two law enforcement officers to talk, it eliminated any sort of Hellion involvement and took them out of play in whatever the Czar's and VD's would get into.

  Dare offered up a reluctant, "can do," though his heart quailed at making contact with Jim again. They were from such different worlds, it was hard to remember that the stalwart man he'd seen in Billings was the same big brother he'd so admired as a kid. But, maybe if he'd share that he also was now married…? "I'll call him before we leave. Anything else?"

  "Yeah," came the deep growl but no other words were said. Dare pulled the phone away, checking for reception bars before putting the cell back up to his ear as his eyes slid to the gorgeous woman walking across the lawn to where he stood. A beauty he'd claimed for himself when he'd only been seventeen.

  "Be happy, motherfucker," Trey said quietly.

  "Back at you, brother." It was the only reply Dare could offer before hitting 'end' and pulling his beautiful wife against him.

  "Love you, Dare." Her sweet voice came from a place around his collarbones. Somewhere close to where the words hit his heart.

  And that, Dare told himself, was all that fuckin' mattered.

  Because everything else, everything that wasn't of Ryley or his Hellion club, was complete and utter bullshit.

  At least in Dare's opinion.

  #.#.#.#.#

  I hope you enjoyed reading 'Taking a Dare', book 3 in the Hellion MC series. It took me three tries to get Dare's story the way I wanted it--mainly because both he and Ryley kept wanting to take their relationship a lot of directions I hadn't planned to go!

  The best part though, was being able to once again be with the Hellion council members and their girls. I gotta say, the group introduced in 'Hiding in Plain
Sight' and expanded on in 'The Possibility of Trey' and in 'Reinventing Mel' have come to mean a lot to me.

  Please feel free to 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.

  Next up is 'Silo's Story' which I hadn't originally planned to write. But I think the burly, bald biker needs to find his own girl…one that will help him learn how to deal with women and keep him from always putting his foot in it!

  Smiling and waving into the Arizona summer morning,

  J.A. Hornbuckle

  June 28th, 2014

  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.

  He hadn't meant to get caught up in her business, but as they hit one small town after another, they'd found, on a Sunday afternoon, most places were closed. And, for whatever reason, he felt he had no choice but to get her to safety. As the miles began to pile up behind them, he recognized his interest and curiosity had been engaged.

  His mother had called him Bay-co, which was the braying bark of the dogs in their village who could sniff out even the deepest secrets. All his life he'd been the kind of person that once his awareness, his inquisitiveness had been engaged, he couldn't let go of the riddle until he solved it.

  As a small boy, the satisfaction in the understanding had been enough.

  As a man, he was driven to fix, resolve or correct those curious situations. Especially if they involved women or children.

  Why he'd felt the need to give his passenger that old nickname, the name his mother had lovingly used for him, was still a mystery.

  Tucking a bag of sandwiches, chips and sodas into the front of his leather jacket and zipping it to his neck, his knuckles hit the metal door adorned with the silhouette of a skirted female, giving the prearranged knocks.

  It was time to get more information.

  *.*.*.*.*

  I hadn't been to a park at night since I was fourteen, but that's where he took me to eat our food. It was the typical kind you find in small towns with its kids play area tucked in one corner and the prerequisite baseball field in the other. The expanse of grass, not specified for any certain purpose, was dotted with the aging picnic tables and waste receptacles.

  "Looks like we're chasing the storm," I announced just for something to say. Our damp, weathered bench and table just caught the edge of the lights beaming from the area where two teams were battling it out on the scoreboard in the twilight of late evening.

  "Yes," he said simply, his limpid eyes meeting mine as he shifted the pile of our jackets further down the table. He'd already polished off two sandwiches and two bags of chips. I was still working on just my one. "We need to discuss your situation."

  When it came to plain speaking, I was thinking that my new friend Bayco was the world-champion. "I don't have a situa
tion. Just drop me off at the nearest motel and I can take it from there."

  His eyes narrowed as I spoke.

  "Shall I tell you what I know?" he asked, low and slow. For whatever reason, I braced myself even though I nodded as I took another bite of my sandwich. I had a definite suspicion I wasn't going to like what I was going to hear.

  "You are running from someone. More than likely a man. But you do not know how to run, to escape, properly," he said flatly. "You have tried this before and each time you have done so, you have learned a new skill, a new way of hiding from him. However, he always finds you."

  Fuck! My stomach clenched and my jaw seized mid-chew.

  "This time, though, is different. You have alluded either him or the men he has sent after you and have gotten further away than you ever have before. But you know that he and his men are still searching."

  Goddamn! How had he… what had I said or done… how did he…

  "Stop. You need to keep a clear head and you must tell me of this situation," he said, making a small hand movement, probably in response to whatever expression my face held, or the lack thereof. Ice was now running through my veins. I needed to think and think quickly, but my brain had turned to sludge at his words.

  "You're imagining things, Dude," I replied, breaking the laser beam of his eyes before turning away and upending the last of the soda can into my extremely dry mouth. "My car broke down and I just need to get to a motel so I can rest up and get my peeps to, you know, come and take care of things."

  Of all the things he could've said or done in reaction to my words, none shocked me more than him breaking out into laughter. Not just a chuckle or a smirk, but a head pointed straight up, braying into the night sky, full-on laugh. I didn't think what I'd said was funny in the least, so I just sat, waiting for him to get his shit under control.