Final Ride: Hellions Motorcycle Club (Hellions Ride Book 9) (17 page)

BOOK: Final Ride: Hellions Motorcycle Club (Hellions Ride Book 9)
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One Ride for Life

 

Pulling up to our thirty-acre compound, I see it’s already littered with bikes, trikes, and cars; but I don’t rush to get off my dad’s Harley. With everyone in town for my dad’s funeral, it seems fitting we have a barbeque at the clubhouse.

How many times did I hold on tight to him?

When I was so small my arms couldn’t reach around him, he made a dual-sided clip and clipped me to him by my belt loop to his. I smile at the memory.

How many things did my dad rig over the years to give me extra protection or confidence? The reality is, if we had wrecked, my belt loops would have broken. He knew it. He also knew his daughter—me—needed to feel like I was connected to him in some way and it took away the fear.

No one has ever known me like my father did. He could read me like an open book. As hard as it was sometimes to be raised the daughter of Blaine “Roundman” Reklinger, there isn’t a single second of it I would change. Even losing my mom so young, there wasn’t a day I didn’t miss her or think of her, but my dad was always there. He simply understood me without a word said between us.

Tripp squeezes my thigh for me to climb off.

“Not yet,” I say, lifting the half-shell helmet off my head. The ticks of the exhaust cooling down are what I focus on instead of the hustle and bustle around me.

If I could hug you tight one more time, daddy. If I could smell your cologne mixed with leather, and a hint of gasoline just one more time. If I could see your smile, hear your voice, and hold you close just one more time, I would thank you for one helluva ride in life.

If you can hear my thoughts, know my heart, then daddy, no matter the rights, the wrongs, and the times between, I love you then, I love you now, and I love you forever. I will do my best to stand beside my man, this club, and honor what you believed in.

Tripp reaches back to grab each of my hands, he pulls me close, pressing my front to his back and wrapping me around him. “Ride until we die, Delilah, I promise you my love, my loyalty, and my very life. I know this is hard, but baby, we gotta do this.”

Pressing a soft kiss to his neck, I exhale. “We’re gonna do this, Tripp.”

I climb off the bike, followed by my man. This is the time to celebrate life. This is the time to throw back a few beers, share memories, and tomorrow, when things are cleared, we begin our own ride. The Hellions don’t begin and end with Roundman, but rather the legacy will live on and on as long as the brotherhood remains.

I was born into this life. My heart beats to the steady tick of a Harley Davidson V-twin engine. I’m Delilah “Doll” Reklinger-Crews, daughter to Roundman, Hellions original, and ol’ lady to Talon “Tripp” Crews, Haywood’s Hellions club president.

I look around at the family my father has left in place to protect me in his absence. I take in the place he built for us all to come together as one and stand for what we believe in. All I can think is:
Some things come full circle. I met my man at a barbeque my father held for this club. With my family around, I took the first step to my future then, and I do so now.

I study the space, thinking to myself,
This is gonna be one hell of a mess to clean up.

I smile, hand-in-hand with my man, and I enter the clubhouse with Tripp. This is my world, my home, and my happiness. Ride until I die, I am a Hellion for life.

 

The End

From One Ride to Final Ride, and every ride between, the Hellions are family. Ride until we die.

 

Ten Years Later

Haywood’s Landing

Tripp and Doll

 

Sitting with my legs crisscrossed on the grass, I have my six-year-old daughter beside me. She has her father’s blue eyes, and my blonde hair curling around her face. She has my mother’s smile, and my father’s temper.

“Nana.” She looks at the gravestone. “Momma said you like the red ones. I like the pink ones better, but Mom won.”

I laugh. “Nana, how I wish you were here to help me navigate the ways of a little girl with a mind of her own.”

“Grumpa,” she talks to my dad. She’s always tries to say Grandpa, and it comes out Grumpa. “BW got in a fight at school yesterday. He told Daddy a boy at school yanked on his colors. Momma says it’s a guy thing and I don’t need to worry. Grumpa, don’t these boys know there are lots of colors and not just red?”

“Oh, my goodness, Dia Nicole Crews, stop it right now,” I chastise my little girl.

“What! You told me we can talk to Nana and Grumpa about anything. I’m letting them know that BW has been in trouble.” She plucks the first petal off the flower. “Daddy loves me.” She tosses it over my mother’s grave. She plucks another. “I’m his princess, like Momma was to Roundman.” She drops the red petal, and I watch it fall to the green grass as the wind gives a slight breeze around us. I feel cocooned in love and happiness. “Daddy loves my momma mostest, mostest.” She drops another petal. “One day, I’m gonna have a love like that.” She picks another petal.

“Dia, it’s supposed to be: ‘He loves me. He loves me not’,” I try to explain when she looks up at me. Those blue eyes shining bright and her smile so big I can’t stop myself from smiling back.

“Momma, everyone loves me. It was like I was born to be loved. I can’t say ‘loves me not.’ I’m Dia Nicole Crews, Haywood’s Hellions’ princess, duh.”

I pull her against me as I look at my mom and dad’s gravestone. “Yes, my girl, yes, you are.”

 

 

 

***

Tank and Sass

 

“Fuckin’ hell, brother.” I look at my club prez and close friend. “Tripp, I got four fuckin’ boys. Red and BW bustin’ up that boy for trying to rip off BW’s Hellions’ shirt, shit’s just beginnin’ for me.”

He smirks as he leans back in the office chair in the mini-storage back room. “I got a baby girl. Dia gets older, we’re gonna need those boys you and Sass been popping out left and right.”

“Like my woman’s belly swollen with my seed,” I say proudly.

“Fuckin’ get that, man. But you have a girl … shit brings you to your knees.”

I lean back in my chair on the other side of his desk. “We’ll just have to start etching names into bullets like Roundman did your ass once upon a time.”

He straightens his face. “Shit, son, he meant every word of that. If I fucked over his princess, there ain’t a single doubt in my mind he’d have used that bullet.”

“And is anything different with yours?”

“Fuck no.” He laughs.

I sigh. “Shit’s good, Tripp. You got the club in a good place, brother. This is what the originals wanted. Danza’s proud. Last time he heard from Frisco, everyone is happy with shit being calm, life being good, and family being family. If the worst thing we gotta deal with is keeping our women knocked up or at least cocked up by us and our children outta trouble, then brother, I consider that a damn good day.”

“We’ve come a long way, you and Sass, me and Doll, the whole fuckin’ club. Been through hell, shed blood, shed motherfuckin’ tears, but we have rode through it all together.”

“Ride until we fuckin’ die, brother.”

“Damn straight.”

 

 

***

Boomer and Purple Pussy Pamela

 

“Ouch!” I hear Pami screech from our bedroom.

Rushing in, I see her trying to take her shirt off.

Heading over, I reach out for the hem of the shirt. “I’m happy to help you with that,” I whisper before pulling it off and dropping my head straight to her neck.

She pushes on me. “Boomer, I gotta see my boob!”

“What?” I back away as she fumbles with her bra.

“I got new glasses. I was trying to put them away and the case snapped shut.”

“What does that have to do with getting naked?”

She huffs. “It closed on my boob.”

Sure enough, I look down to her exposed breast and see it’s red around the areola, and her nipple is a beautiful shade of purple.

Leaning down, I suck the delicate tissue into my mouth, twirling my tongue around the bruised flesh.

“Boomer,” she moans, relaxing into me.

“You know purple is my favorite color.” I wink before I give attention to her other breast.

“Oh, my,” she whispers as she rests her hands on my shoulders.

Reaching behind her knees, I lift her, never releasing her breast. Then I turn us toward the bed and lay her down before sliding her bottoms off.

“Purple pussy to taste, purple nurple to suck—I’m a lucky fuckin’ man.”

She smiles. “I’m the lucky one. Boomer, you took me, my past, my purple pussy nightmare, and now my purple nipple.”

“Nurple,” I correct with a nip to her waist.

“You’re ruining my moment, Boomer.”

“Baby, every second with you is a moment etched into my heart, my soul, and my mind. I love you, Pami, past, present, and all the purple issues that we face in the future.”

“I love you, Boomer.” She gets the words out just as I drop my mouth to her pussy and devour what’s mine.

I will never get tired of this woman and the life we built together.

 

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