~Bladen~
One call and within three hours, Deacon has backup at the house. With the guys here, they begin cleaning up, while I shower and change.
A box truck with the logo for “Crews Transports” pulls in.
A blond-haired, man-bun wearing man with a five-o’clock shadow and full sleeve tattoos stands in the driveway, talking to Deacon. Another blond, this one with short, spiky hair gives Deacon a handshake and a half-hug, backslap. The men are wearing cuts, and I focus in to see the skull with wrenches for crossbones and the engine insignia on the back of man bun’s cut. Hellions Motorcycle Club.
They have a long history in the Carolinas. My dad wanted to lock Roundman and his bandits, as he called them, up for years. Every time they rode through Florence, Dillon, or the surrounding areas, Dad and Caleb would be looking for a reason to tag them. The club always was tight on their transports, clean up, and businesses. Word is Tripp is President of the entire club, while his cousin, Rex, is Pres. for the Catawba chapter, which is a second in command charter to the main Haywood’s Landing Club.
Things get complicated when your territory covers all North and South Carolina like they do. It’s necessary to have multiple chapters and people in charge you trust with everything. Roundman and his crew built it, rock solid.
Knowing they are here to handle the mess, I blow out a breath of relief. I can focus on finding Tamalyn now.
“Hellions are here,” Deacon says as he comes in. “Got shit covered. Just need the okay, man, to torch it when they finish. Nothin’ll be traced. Boomer is in the back of the truck. Shooter’s here, too. They brought a solid crew of former Green Berets with explosive experience. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will be traced back when the Hellions finish. Grab what you want and let’s ride, brother.”
I nod and stand.
We make quick work of introductions. Then I go to my bike, opening the saddlebag, and grab an envelope full of cash. I then quietly walk back over to the man known as Rex. “For your services,” I say, handing him the money.
“Hot damn! I’ll fuck my ol’ lady on this tonight and let my son pay for his lunch with some of it next week.” He laughs casually.
My eyes grow wide. “Never thought there would be someone more brash than Trapper,” I mutter more to myself.
“Shit,” Rex carries on, “Shooter is my son’s stepdad. He’s got a slew of fuckin’ kids, so every time Axel comes to visit, I make sure he understands his dad’s getting older but all the shit still works, ya feel me?” He nudges me as Shooter comes to stand beside him.
“Swear it, he catches you and Lux one more time, then Tessie might cut me off, thinking he’s too exposed to too much sex. You get me cut off, fucker, there’s hell to pay,” Shooter jokes back, calm as day.
Good to know the Hellions may have some weird shit that goes on in their lives, but they are a brotherhood.
“All right, no sex on the cash I give to my kid. Got it. Damn, Shooter, why do you gotta be the responsible one?”
“ ’Cause Tessie needed a rock-solid man, while Lux needed a nympho with a soft side for women in heels.”
Rex drapes his arm around Shooter. “Shit makes me hard just thinkin’ ’bout it. You’re good, Shooter; best thing for Tessie and my boy—our boy.”
“Are we done havin’ a Hallmark moment?” Trapper joins us. “My brother got y’all paid; Deacon gave the marker. All this talk of ol’ ladies and kids makes me itch like I caught an STD. Can’t be havin’ that now.”
We all laugh.
“We’ll be in touch should the time come,” Rex says before he moves to the back of the box truck, lifting the door and exposing a group of Hellions ready to get to work.
Trapper and I go to where all of us are parked at the end of the driveway.
“They know about Haven’s Harbor; Caleb told me,” I tell them. “Tempest isn’t safe if he still has the PI on her. We need to head there and regroup, find Tamalyn, then call this one done.”
Deacon is the first to reach for his phone. “Tempest,” he barks. “Lock down and be alert.”
She says something none of us can hear.
“Look, told you this ain’t about how good your pussy is. I’m not the kind of man to give callbacks. Since I pulled my cock outta you, I’ve been all business if you’d stop and listen to me for a minute.” He pauses again for her to speak. “Testin’ me, Tempest, is gonna land you with a pink ass from me spankin’ you. I get you like foreplay, but I’m telling you lock down and be alert till I get there.”
“Quit playin’ house and tell the wifey to get dinner ready; we’re comin’ home,” Trapper goads, and I swear Deacon lifts his eyes, giving the man the look of death.
“Tempy, don’t got time, other than to tell you again, get up with your girl. Know you say you got nothing. Told you I’ve tasted you, read you, and you know. Reach Tamalyn and sit tight. Sit pretty, and I’ll take care of you when I get there.”
She proceeds to give him an earful, to which he just shakes his head.
“All right, noted; you’re not givin’ me that pussy ever again. I repeated it.” He waits a beat. “You good now?” Another beat. “Okay, well, just ’cause I said, doesn’t mean I believe it. I’m gonna taste you again soon, Tempy. You keep puttin’ up this fight, I might have to make you beg before I give it to ya. But promise you, sweetheart, I’ll have you again.”
“We’re through, you asshole,” we all hear her screech into the phone.
“Love a challenge, baby,” he says before hanging up with a smirk.
“Got a man watching her phone. We’ll find your woman soon enough, Judge. Till then, let’s go watch Tempest’s back.”
“Backside,” Trapper corrects on a laugh.
Without another word or question, we all climb on our bikes and hit the road back to Haven’s Harbor. By the time of our arrival, it’s too late to do anything, so we get a hotel on the outskirts of town, as to not draw more attention, and plan to see Tempest in the morning.