(The Hellions Ride)
by Chelsea Camaron
Publication Date: January 2014
Tour Host: Dreams Come True Promotions
Delilah “Doll” Reklinger never imagined her life with anyone that wasn’t a Hellion. She never imagined a Hellion would come along and prove himself worthy enough to her father, Roundman, Hellions Club President. Content in living in the bubble of safety the motorcycle club family has always provided, Doll never thought that danger surrounded her.
Roundman has kept the Hellions contained for the last thirty years by controlling the chaos surrounding their lifestyle. When the dangerous side to their business comes knocking on his door, he realizes his precious Doll isn’t safe. The Hellions code may be that women and children are off limits in any altercation or dispute, but that doesn’t mean their enemies follow that same moral compass.
His only child, now in danger from the association to him and his club, Roundman makes a decision. He sends her away to a charter club, in hopes that the trouble won’t follow.
One ride across the country. One simple ride. Talon “Tripp” Crews has been ordered to take Doll on one ride away and to keep her safe. She’s off limits, his head knows this, but his body can’t deny the sparks between them. She’s feisty, fierce, and fearless. Constantly in close confines together, can they deny the chemistry? Will they give into the attraction between them? Can one ride turn lust into love?
Chelsea Camaron was born and raised in Coastal North Carolina. She currently resides in Southern Louisiana with her husband and two children but her heart is always Carolina day dreaming.
Chelsea always wanted to be a writer, but like most of us, let fear of the unknown grab a hold of her dream; she realized that if she was going to tell her daughter to go for her dreams, that it was time to follow her own advice.
Chelsea grew up turning wrenches alongside her father, and from that grew her love for old muscle cars and Harley Davidson motorcycles, which just so happened to inspired her ‘Daddy’s Girls’ series. Her love for reading has sparked a new love for writing and she currently has a few more projects in the works.
When she is not spending her days writing you can find her playing with her kids, attending car shows, going on motorcycle rides on the back of her husband’s Harley, snuggling down with her new favorite book or watching any movie that Vin Diesel might happen to be in.
She hates being serious and is still a big kid at heart. She is a small town country girl enjoying life and, Chelsea hopes that her readers remember not to take life too seriously and to embrace your inner five year old, because five year olds know how to enjoy the simple things in life and how to always have fun.
Copyright © Chelsea Camaron 2013
“Tripp, you son of a bitch, I’m not done talkin’ to you.” He stops on the spot, but doesn’t turn around. Rex and Sass are standing still by their bike watching everything as it continues to unfold. He’s making no attempt to acknowledge me. Frustration running high, I march up behind him. I poke him in the shoulder, in an attempt to get him to turn around. When that fails, I jab my finger into the top of his shoulder. Still, nothing. Walking around to face him, I’m met with a mixture of laughter and lust in his eyes. He’s enjoying this, the fucker.
“You just fucking kissed me. I don’t even know your real damn name and you kissed me! You’ve insulted me, belittled me, taken me from my home to God knows where, and I don’t even know your fucking name!” I say jabbing my finger in his chest. Our eyes are now locked, battling each other in the stare downs of stare downs. My eyes are full of fury and his full of fun, maybe. Is this turning him on?
“If you’re running your mouth so I kiss you again, it ain’t gonna happen Doll. You’re wound up. You need to release the tension. How ‘bout we see if Jared can give you some ink?”
“You have lost your ever lovin’ fuckin’ mind if you think I’m going to let some friend of yours permanently mark my body. Again, I don’t even know your name. Yet, I’m supposed to trust some guy you know to tattoo me? Really? I may end up with Tripp tattooed on my ass.”
He laughs at me. Not the little ‘ha ha you’re so funny’ kind of laugh. No, Tripp folds over holding his stomach because he’s laughing so hard at me.
“What the fuck is so damn funny?”
Tripp stands up. The smile now gone from his face, replaced with his ever present serious glare, he looks directly at me.
“Get your ass inside. Shut the fuck up for two seconds so you can meet Jared.”
He walks off, heading for the front door. Sass is now beside me, as I stand here with a stupid look on my face.
“Come on, Doll. Let’s make the best of it. I’m game for new ink. You should get that tat you’ve been wanting with another damn bird. We’re stuck here until the guys have rested. Jared may be hot or have hot friends. You’re way too bitchy, loosen up some.”
“Sass, Delatorre had cameras in our house. How can I relax?”
“Fuck! He had what? Come on, let’s get inside and figure this shit out.” She says, taking me by the hand to the front door.
Walking inside we are surrounded by the designs on the red painted walls. Each intricate piece of work brings something new to life for someone. Hearing the buzzing of the tattoo gun in the back room, I’m immediately itching for a new tattoo. I have a sparrow on my right hip in memory of my mother and a robin on my wrist to represent the bond Sass and I share. Maybe Sass is right, and it’s time to get that tattoo I’ve been wanting on my left hip.
Tripp is leaning against the counter talking to a beautiful lady. She’s probably in her fifties, but time has treated her well. There’s vibrancy in her eyes as she’s chatting with Tripp, her face telling the story of a strong woman. We approach the counter.
“Doll, Sass, this is Momma C. And Momma C, you remember Rex. This is Doll and Sass.”
Introductions out of the way, I’m overwhelmed with a sense of comfort. Momma C gives me a feeling of home. Being around her reminds me of being with the ol’ ladies of the club. The level of nurturing and compassion that is held in the depths of Momma C’s eyes washes over me. I’m smiling and I’m comfortable here even with all the chaos surrounding my life. Tripp was right, I’m safe here. Even without meeting Jared it’s obvious Momma C will protect those around her.
A man with spikey hair, gaged ears, and full sleeved tattoos emerges from the back room. He’s followed by a man that walks over to Momma C pulling out his wallet, making it obvious he is a client. Immediately, the spikey hair man greets Tripp and Rex with that man half hug, back slap shit. When he’s done, he stares at me momentarily. He extends his hand. When I place my hand in his, he holds it.
“Name’s Delilah, but everyone calls me Doll. You must be Jared.” I say looking into his eyes. They tell the story of a strong man.
“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Tripp’s a lucky mother fucker.”
I laugh at his comment. “Tripp’s not my man.”
He pulls me into a hug and whispers in my ear, “With the death glare he’s giving me, I think he may disagree, Doll.” He kisses my cheek before releasing me.
He greets Sass quickly and escorts us to the back office area. The client is done paying, raises his hand in a slight salute wave in goodbye as he exits the building.
“Mom’s locking up. Here’s the key to the apartment upstairs. I’ll be here the whole time. No one will get to you without getting through me.” Jared informs us as he’s handing Tripp a key.
We go upstairs to the tiny apartment and settle in. Tripp’s in the shower. I update Sass on what I now know on Delatorre. Sass and I are restless, so we head back down to the tattoo shop. Finding Jared at a desk drawing, I smile at his focus. He seems like he’s good people, and maybe I shouldn’t have doubted Tripp. I need to learn to trust him.
“You need somethin’ Doll, Sass?” Jared asks looking up from his design to both of us.
“I’d like a new tattoo.”
“Sure thing, whatcha thinkin’ of getting?”
“I want an eagle on my left hip, stretching out in flight. Not overly big, but in its talon, I want it holding a very girly heart, not a lifelike heart, a feminine heart and a shield.”
He pauses, as a strange look comes across his face. “Doll, why do you want this specific tattoo?”
“An eagle represents the freedom of the motorcycle club world I live in. It’s talon holding my heart and a shield for protection. All my life I’ve been guarded and loved by all of the Hellions, not just my dad.”
“You’re sure you want an eagle and not the Hellions insignia?”
Irritation consumes me. Why is he questioning me? This is his job. I’ll pay for the damn tat. Cocking my hand on my hip, I glare at Jared. “It’s not my place to wear the insignia. Look, if you don’t want to do the tat that’s fine, just say so, enough with the bullshit.” Looking over at Sass for some sort of comfort as my frustration builds, she shrugs her shoulders like this is no big deal.
Hearing a noise behind me, I turn to see Tripp in the doorway. His hair down and wet. With his arms over his head gripping the door frame, and his jeans slung low on his hips, I can clearly see the toned ‘v’ of his lower abdomen peeking out from his shirt. The tattoos on his arms on display, as usual. Holy hell, he’s hot.
“What bullshit?” Tripp asks looking back and forth between Jared and me.
“Nothin’. I wanted ink, but Jared’s asking eighteen hundred questions like I’m trying to get married or some shit.”
“Hold the fuck up, princess. Tripp may be interested to know the exact tattoo you’retalkin’ about marking your body with.” Jared pipes up. Sass backs away from me, leaving me inching closer to Tripp.
“I wanted an eagle with an outstretched talon holding a heart and shield. It’s whatever now, you guys seem to know better. I’ll get my fucking ink elsewhere. I’m going to bed.” As I start to move to the doorway, Tripp moves his arms off the frame. Great, he’s going to block my exit. Then, I watch as he removes his shirt. The ink adorning his body is all on display. I see the tats of his forearms go all the way up his shoulders and he has a dragon that peeks on both sides, maybe it wraps across his back. What has my attention though, is the large eagle over his left shoulder blade is coming down with an extended talon holding a lifelike heart and a shield.
He says nothing, as his muscles twitch involuntarily. Before I can stop myself, I’m standing mere inches from him, as I reach out and slowly trace the details of the design. I start at the white of the eagles head, delicately I outline the bird. As I reach his talon, Tripp stiffens underneath me. He grabs my hand holding it to his heart, the very place the heart of the tattoo lands. He drops his head, our faces cheek to cheek. His hair has fallen down off his shoulder it tickles my face as his breathing sends chills down my spine as it hits my ear.
“My name is Talon Ward Crews. Talon is for an eagle’s talon as its tool and its weapon. Ward meaning guard and protector. The eagle guards and protects my heart.” He whispers to me.