Holding Huck's Heart (Marco's MMA Boys #3) (18 page)

BOOK: Holding Huck's Heart (Marco's MMA Boys #3)
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Acknowledgments

Thank you to my readers.  Without you, I would not be having this awesome adventure.  You have helped make my dreams come true and for that, I’m truly blessed and grateful. I never would’ve dreamed Lox would take off like it did and that people would love Sly just as much. I hope everyone loves Huck just as much.

To my family, thank you for being supportive. Special Thanks to my mom who listens to the endless ramblings about my characters.

I need to give a big Thank You to Chelly Peeler. She’s not only my editor but my friend. She always listens to my random crazy thoughts. She loves my characters and understands my craziness. Thank you again.

To my bestie, Chelsea Camaron, thank you for being my sounding board. Thank you for giving me those little bits of advice, for helping me think three books ahead. Not thinking my random late night texts are crazy or annoying. #commentbubblinbitch

Kimberley Foster Holm for treating my books like Where’s Waldo and helping me find those little things that I’ve read over a hundred times. #warnagirl

A special thanks to Michael Swearingen, my cover model, for being not only Sly, but Huck. You captured everything I was looking for and you met the challenge. You have been a wonderful representation of my character and I could not ask for more You’ve been awesome and inspirational.

Shelly Sale, my photographer, you’re awesome. You know the image I’m looking for before I do sometimes.

Donna Dull/Elizabeth Sharp with Sharp Designs, thank you so much for your wonderful covers. They make me squeal every time.

To Former Pro Boxer James Spider Webb, a World Ranked Pro, NABC US Champion, US Olympic Alt and Armed Forces Champion. Thank you for giving me some insight into this world.

Thanks to all of the book bloggers out there who spend so much time helping us promote books and everyone who leaves a review, you are all awesome. 

To my street team Donaldson’s Dirty Debutantes you guys are just awesome. I don’t know what I would do without you.

To my Author friends, thank you for being supportive and inspirational all at the same time.

About the Author

S.M. Donaldson is a born and raised Southern girl. She grew up in a small rural town on Florida’s Gulf Coast, the kind of place where everyone knows your business before you do, especially when your Daddy is a cop and your Mom works for the school system. She married one of her best friends at the age of 20 and has one son. She is a proud military wife, has always had a soft spot for a good story, and is known to have a potty mouth. At the age of 31, she decided there was no time like the present to attempt her first book. Sam’s Choice was born and she hasn’t stopped since. If you are looking for a good, steamy, Southern set romance with true Southern dialect, she’s your girl. 

 

My Links:

www.smdonaldson.com

www.facebook.com/s.m.donaldson.author

www.goodreads.com/AuthorSMDonaldson

Twitter: @SMDonaldson1

Instagram: SMDONALDSON1981

 

 

Other titles by S.M. Donaldson

 

The Sam Series

Sam’s Choice

Sam’s Fight for Freedom

 

The Temptation Series

Lying with Temptation

Acting on Temptation

Fighting Temptation

 

The Secrets of Savannah Series

Secrets Behind Those Eyes

Secrets in The Lyrics

Secrets in Battle

 

Novellas

Just the Other Sister Series

(E-book only)

Seasons of Change Novella Series

Summer of Forgiveness

Falling for Autumn

Holiday with Holli

Camellia In Bloom

 

Marco’s MMA Boys

LETTING LOX IN

IN SLY’S EYES

HOLDING HUCK’S HEART

GAINING GIBBS

A PREVIEW OF

CHELSEA CAMARON’S

ONE RIDE

 

Copyright © Chelsea Camaron 2013

 

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.

 

1st Edition Published: December 2013

Cover Design by: Jessie Lane

Cover Photo by Vicki Jones of Vicki’s Portraiture

Cover Models: Jared Caldwell and Pantara Lynne

Editing by: Asli Fratarcangeli

Formatted by: Indie-Vention

 

2
nd
Edition Published: June 2014

Whiskey Girl Publishing

Cover Design by: Jessie Lane

Cover Images by: Magnolia Ridge Photography

Shutterstock Images Sivolob

Editing by: Asli Fratarcangeli and C&D Editing

Formatting by: Indie-Vention

 

ISBN-13: 978-1494335823

ISBN-10: 1494335824

 

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

This is a work of fiction. All characters, 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

 

 

*Intended for mature audiences only*

This book contains strong language, strong sexual situations, and violence. Please do not buy if any of this if any of this offends you.

 

This is not meant to be a true or exact depiction of a motorcycle club rather a work of fiction meant to entertain.

 

In Memory of

 

You were my Dad’s best friend, close as a brother. Thank you for being the light hearted man you were. You are missed by everyone who knew you. My first bike ride with someone other than my dad was with you, and one I will never forget. An angel now, watching over all the S.O.B.’s. Gone but never forgotten.

 

Ride or Die, your Harley was part of who you were. Missing the laughs we all shared with you. We will carry you with us always.

 

 

 

One Encounter

 

 

Shit! This one is going to be a mess to clean up,
I think to myself.

Pulling up to the clubhouse, I realize today’s barbeque is not just for the local Haywood’s Landing Hellions, but also for our affiliate charter and chapter clubs. Rather than the usual fifty or so bikers with their families, it’s more like two hundred of them here today. It’s a sight that most would be intimidated by. For me, it’s comfort. It’s the safety found in my family. Most of all, it’s my home.

Once a year, sometimes twice, my dad invites all of the partnering motorcycle clubs out for a huge barbeque. The Hellion’s control all of Coastal North and South Carolina, as well as a few areas in the Piedmont and Appalachian areas of North Carolina. They provide protection, shelter, food, and fun for all affiliate clubs traveling through. The Hellions are respected and run Carolina Country. Some of the clubs we protect passing through our territories are into the more illegal side of motorcycle club life, while others are more of a band of brothers traveling together. Our club walks a fine line in what they do and do not participate in. As a female, I’m sure there is much more that goes on in the club than I will ever be made aware of. Having such a large area to cover, Dad makes sure to show his appreciation for the smaller charters and chapters whenever possible. Times like this are about family and relaxing; business is off the table.

Our thirty acre compound area is now littered with bikes, trikes, and cars. Burly bikers abound. Ol’ ladies and kids are squealing and smiling at every turn. The kids are enjoying the food, games, bounce houses, and pony rides. It’s like a mini-freaking-carnival. With all the ol’ ladies present, the barflies and hang around whores are at a minimum. Some aren’t so bad, but most annoy the shit out of me. They all respect the ol’ ladies and wives, though. It’s a good thing they know their place, too. My dad doesn’t tolerate any disrespect of a claimed woman in his club by anyone, but especially not from a bar-bitch just looking for a night with a Hellion.

Getting out of my car, I smile. My girls are here today, standing on the other side of the lot, waving to me. Savannah Mae and Caroline are my two very best friends, my survival sisters in this crazy lifestyle. Savannah ‘Sass’ Perchton and I have been best friends from childhood.

Her dad, ‘Danza’, is a Hellion original, along with my dad, Roundman, their friend, ‘Frisco’, and the late ‘Rocky’ Fowler. The four men created the MC as a way to ride together and stay safe thirty-two years ago when they were in their twenties. Rocky and his wife passed away in a car accident a few years back. Their only daughter, Dina, was in college at the time, with no other family. The Lawson family and the Hellions MC have made sure to be a support system for her as much as she will possibly allow. She’s the reason Sass and I went to college in Charlotte. Our dads felt it was a good way to keep an eye on us, Dina and Maggie Lawson, another Hellion princess all at the same time. Dina is a couple of years older than us.  She’s settled in life. She has a great husband and two beautiful daughters. Maggie and Dina both took care of Sass and I while we were in college. Especially the first two years, we were young and had been sheltered so much by growing up in our small town run by the Hellions that college was a wild experience. Dina and Maggie are like older sisters for both of us.

Freshman year, we decided to attempt dorm life. That’s where we met Caroline Milton. We lasted one semester in the dorm, before my dad put us in an apartment and we brought Caroline with us. She’s the complete opposite of Sass and me. Caroline majored in business, specifically accounting, where Sass and I took an easier path, one not involving so much math, choosing arts and communications.

I stifle a giggle as I realize this is Caroline’s first time at a large club event. Of course, she knows that Sass and I have biker Dads, but her schedule has never allowed her to be with us for a party. She’s clearly overdressed in her cocktail length, spaghetti strapped dress, and wedge-heeled sandals. The dress isn’t overly formal, but its fitted and not the casual feel that these barbeques are meant for. Sass and I are both in jean shorts and tank tops. Denim and leather are safe bets for anything at the clubhouse. A sundress would’ve been a bit more suitable for her to wear. Although, I don’t think Caroline is one to ever dress casually except when cleaning her house or something, and that’s a serious maybe. I doubt she even owns a pair of yoga pants.

After college graduation, Caroline stayed in Charlotte. She works with Kenna, one of Dina and Maggie’s friends. Sass and I, on the other hand, came back to the coast to work for the Hellions storage business and motorcycle garage. I run the storage office, while Sass is like a “girl Friday”, answering phones, doing parts runs and stuff for the bike shop. We share a condo on the beach because at twenty-five, neither of us wanted to live back at home, even though we both know we are never out of the reach of our parents or any of the Hellions. This has been our world for two and half years, living at the beach, while working beside our dads. 

Weaving my way through the hordes of bikes towards my friends, I feel at peace, even amongst the chaos. Gazing around me, I admire the many motorcycles in our courtyard, each decked out in chrome and leather. I hug my girls for our typical greeting, as I reach them.

Together, we make our way inside the clubhouse where I nod and wave greetings at my extended family. Taking in the many unfamiliar faces, I smile knowing I’m safe even with these “strangers” around. It’s an unspoken code women are protected and cherished in the Hellions. I’m no one’s target for trouble here, and it’s not because this is our territory; it’s because I’m a lady of the Hellions for life, ride until I die.

The affiliates seem to understand who I am, even without introduction. I’m not an ol’ lady. There is no cut on my back. I’m not claimed with a property patch. That doesn’t mean I’m available either. No, I’m not one to be found riding bitch on anyone’s bike. There is only one motorcycle I’m permitted to place my derriere on and those opportunities are few and far between. My dad refuses to let me ride with anyone but him. 

I’m not available to guys outside the club either, which suits me just fine. I was born into this life. My heart beats to the same steady tick of a Harley Davidson V-twin engine. I’m Delilah ‘Doll’ Reklinger. Princess to the Haywood’s Hellions MC. Daughter of ‘Roundman’, Hellion original and Prez for the last thirty two years. I’m the kid sister that each of these badass bikers looks out for. They will gladly kick your ass all because you simply looked at me. I’m a daughter to each and every ol’ lady to nurture, love, and treat like one of their own. This is my world, my home, and my happiness.

 

 

Haywood’s Hellions’ annual barbeque is one of the best parties of the year. Due to business needs, last year we were unable to attend, though. Roundman scheduled the run so our absence was no sign of disrespect for our parent chapter.

This year, we’re expected and happy to oblige. When Roundman or any patched Hellion calls, we answer. Each charter may have their own Prez, but we all answer to the Haywood’s Hellions and Roundman.

All the charters are represented today, complete with families in tow. The turnout is outstanding for the small town of Haywood’s Landing, North Carolina. The compound is located in the boondocks, making functions like these a non-issue for the neighbors.

Taking it all in around us, my crew and I are relaxing, leaning up against the bar when Rex smacks my chest as he tips his beer bottle in the direction of three females. One of them clearly didn’t get the message, this is an MC event. She is dressed more for a day of shopping, or a night out at a club, than a barbeque at the clubhouse.

“Those are definitely not hang around hoes,” Rex states.

“That’s for damn sure. They’re walking with class and a whole lot of confidence. None of them are hangin’ on a man and no property patches in sight. Aw shit, Rex, fresh pussy for you.” I reply, laughing.

Drexel ‘Rex’ Crews, is my cousin, Vice Prez of my Catawba Hellions chapter, and my lifelong best friend. We are the Piedmont chapter to the Haywood’s Hellions, located in Catawba, North Carolina, about an hour outside of Charlotte. 

Our moms are sisters who both had us out of wedlock and at a young age. We were taken in by our grandparents and raised more like brothers, and we proudly carry our Grandpa’s last name. Only eighteen months apart in age, we are still, and have always been, inseparable.  Rex’s mom tries, whereas my mom bailed early on. Our grandmother passed when we were eight or nine and our grandfather followed in our teens. Having no one to really care for us, we roamed the streets.

Aunt Jolene, Rex’s mom, tried; but she worked so much to provide a house and food for us that there wasn’t enough time in the days for her to keep up. Drugs, alcohol, petty theft, and girls were our day to day until a chance meeting with Roundman and his boys at a gas station one day. He set us straight and set us up. We owe everything we have to him.

Rex is a ladies man with little to no standards. His only real boundary is that of an ol’ lady. If you don’t want Rex to hit on your woman, then you damn sure better claim her. Hang around hoes, sisters, friends, exes, and complete strangers are all fair game in his mind; married or not. As long as it’s new pussy, he’s happy. There are no encore performances.

‘Hit it, get it, and go. No repeats’
is the motto Rex lives by.

“That dress is screaming to be plucked off. She needs to be devoured by D-Rex, my brother. She just doesn’t know it yet,” he says with a snicker as he steps away in the direction of his new conquest.

The brunette in the dress may be what has caught Rex’s attention, but my eyes are glued to the long, blonde and straight-haired beauty next to the dress. Her face is round and flawless, her skin smooth like that of a glass doll. She’s in a black Harley Davidson tank top and short as sin jean shorts. Damn, this broad is stacked; nice rack, skinny with a plump ass that’s screaming to be smacked. I watch as she laughs, carefree, with her friends as Rex joins them.

I begin to approach when I see Roundman walk to her. She hugs him innocently and it dawns on me exactly who she is. That’s Roundman’s Doll she’s off limits. All lust filled thoughts I have are momentarily gone. She isn’t just any Hellions princess, she’s
the
Hellion princess. We had to keep an eye on her from afar when she lived in Charlotte.

Rex waves me over after he finishes greeting Roundman with a hand shake, pull into a half-hug, back slap that we men do. I follow suit after my approach.

“Glad to see you and Rex could make it, Tripp.” Roundman greets.

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