Originals Ride: Hellions Motorcycle Club (Hellions Ride Book 8) (4 page)

Endless Possibilities

“We’re gonna have to take you boys downtown to get your statements,” an officer says with his hands on his stick and the butt of his gun as if we pose some threat.

Looking around at the bodies on the floor, I shake my head. The shock is setting in. Taking a life—a man’s life—even when threatened, weighs heavily on my soul. This isn’t like shooting a deer to have meat. In the moment, however, I couldn’t think. I had to eliminate the problem.

Now it hits me, though.

I lean over and dry heave as I fight back my need to vomit everywhere.

Clive claps me on the back. “It’s okay, son.”

Standing up, I ready myself to go in with the cops as the paramedics take out one man at a time in black bags on their gurney.

Moving to the desk, I pick up the receiver on the telephone. My fingers shake as I try to focus on turning the numbers on the rotary dial.

“Zella’s Pizza,” Dia answers.

“Dia, it’s me.”

“Blaine, you orderin’ lunch, baby?”

“No. Something happened today. If Paul comes by there, you stay away from him. After work, you go to Mary Alice’s until I come pick you up.”

“Time to go,” the cop says to me, and I hate that I can’t explain to her what’s going on.

“Blaine, you’re scaring me.” I can hear the worry in her voice.

“Nothing to worry about. Just don’t be alone and don’t go anywhere near the chump. Clive, Tommy, and me gotta ride to the station.”

“Beaufort, you’re going to Beaufort, not Cape Carteret,” the officer informs me while still giving me the space to talk to my girl. I can respect him for that, even if he looks like he’s ready to jump out of his skin from dealing with me.

“Why are you going to the jailhouse?” Dia asks bluntly.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. Some of Paul’s—”

“Time’s up,” the officer says.

“Look, I promise I’ll explain everything later. Just promise me no talking to Watson and you’ll go to Mary Alice’s.”

“I promise, but if you need me to come bail you out, I’ll be there.”

“I hope not. Love you, Dia.”

“I love you, Blaine. Whatever is going on, we’ll get through this.”

With her reassurance, I feel some of the weight lift off me. No matter what anyone says, I wouldn’t change a thing today. Clive was in danger, and I won’t ever turn my back on him when he’s always had mine. The only thing I would change is I would have kicked Paul Watson’s ass the day he came in, playing messenger boy.

After hanging up the receiver, I head out the front door, unable to avoid stepping in blood. Promptly, the fresh air hits my nostrils, causing me to hunch over and dry heave more.

“You two get in the back of my patrol car. Clive, we expect you to follow us in your truck.”

“Understood,” Clive says to the officer. Then to Tommy and me, he says, “Boys, it’s all right.”

Is it really? Is anything ever going to be all right again? Who were the men we just killed? Did they have families? I know they were bad men, but why were they here?

All the questions dance in my mind as I climb into the back of the Plymouth Enforcer beside Tommy. I want to laugh stupidly at the fact that Clive gets to drive himself in, but Tommy and I have to ride in the cruiser. Funny how everyone always says we’re hell raisers, yet today, we were simply trying to have a good man’s back.

The ride is a blur as I keep trying to figure out why the men were at Clive’s shop in the first place. His business has always been on the up and up, so why would Paul Watson put him on anyone’s radar?

I still have no answers when we pull up to the Beaufort courthouse and police station. Our local office is small and more of a hub for the west side of Carteret.

Immediately, they separate the three of us into different rooms. I’m in a small office with a table, two chairs, and nothing else.

A different officer comes in and takes a seat across from me with a file in his hand.

“Not your first time here, Mr. Reklinger.”

I drop my head. This man can’t be serious right now.

“Did some dumb shit a few years ago. Joyride was all it was.”

He opens the folder to pull out a blank piece of paper. Sliding it to me, he unclips a pen from his shirt pocket and tosses it on the table in front of me. “I’m State Bureau of Investigations Agent Westlake. We need your statement of today’s events in writing.”

“Okay,” I agree. There is no point in arguing. As much as killing is wrong, what other choice was there? I couldn’t let them hurt Clive, and I’m certain they would have killed us all if we didn’t bend to their will or shoot first.

Leaning over the table, I begin to put into words what happened this afternoon. When I finish, I lay the pen over the paper. I look at the man across from me who has remained emotionless.

“Do you have any questions for me, Mr. Reklinger?”

“No,” I answer, knowing better than to ask a cop anything. My words won’t get twisted. He has my statement in writing, so now I just need him to let me go.

“Well, I have some for you.”

I nod my head but don’t speak. I don’t have money for an attorney, and I don’t see how I would need one. But in the end, this is my situation in the right here, right now.

“Did you know the men you shot today?”

I look the agent in his eyes, having nothing to hide. “No.”

“You have no affiliation with any members of Fury Motorcycle Club out of Central Florida?

Fury motorcycle club, hmmm. Why does Paul have an uncle in a gang coming to Clive’s shop?
my mind questions, but I simply answer the man in front of me with, “No.”

“Why were the members of the outlaw gang at the shop today?”

“Look, I don’t know anything about a motorcycle club, outlaw gang, or those men today. Tommy and I were slinging tires out back when we heard ’em pull up. Came in from the back, saw Clive was in trouble, handled it.”

“Shoot first and ask questions later?”

“No, watch the man’s back who has always had yours,” I bite back at him.

“Did you know Fury MC were here to proposition Clive to run guns through his parts shipments?”

“No. Why would you tell me something like that?” I ask, wondering if I’m getting set up. Small town politics leave me trusting no one.

The man doesn’t answer, only stares at me.

“Look, Paul Watson came in the shop the other day. He said he had a message for Clive that his uncle was coming to see him. That’s the only warning we had that
anyone
was coming.”

“Paul Watson, you say?”

“Yes,” I say through clenched teeth as my aggravation grows. How dare this man sit here and think I would set Clive up? How do I know this man isn’t tied to Fury himself? The longer I sit in this room with this man who gives me very little information, the more questions I have.

He scribbles on the folder then rises from his chair. When he opens the door, I think he’s going to leave me in here, but he turns to me.

“You’re free to go, Mr. Reklinger.”

I’m standing to leave when he holds the file up in the air.

“Just don’t go far,” he says with a snicker as he turns his back on me and walks out.

I just killed a group of men who tried to bully my boss into something. One shot in each and he wants to get smart with me? I don’t know if I want to clap him on the back and say thanks for letting me go or get pissed that he acts like there is more going on here. I didn’t know a single one of those motherfuckers who came in today.

I hate cops like him. They think they are above everyone because they carry a gun and a badge. Well, Clive ain’t never done shit to anyone, and where the hell were the boys in blue when he needed protection? Sitting at a desk somewhere, eating a damn donut, that’s where!

As I make my way down the hall, I look to see if I can find Clive or Tommy. Not seeing either of them, I head outside to find them both waiting for me in front of the building.

“What the hell they do to you back there?”

I shake my head. “Just questions.”

Clive wraps his arms around me in a hug. The old man trembles against me. “Thank you, son. There ain’t shit to worry about. The cop told me it’s all self-defense. Thank you, Blaine.” He pulls away, and I can see the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. “Ain’t never been scared a day in my life. Swear to the good Lord above, if it was my time to go, I’d go, but not without a fight. Thank you, both of you”—he looks from me to Tommy—“because without y’all boys, I wouldn’t be going home to my wife tonight.”

Tommy looks at me then Clive. “You gave us a place to work and stay outta trouble.” He kicks the rocks under his boots. “Well, you gave us something to put our mind to so we weren’t gettin’ into trouble. We can’t let nothing happen to you, old man.” With a smile, he tries to lighten the mood between us. “You know them guys?”

Clive shakes his head. “All I know is they call themselves Fury MC. Something about being outlaws from Florida. They wanted to use my lot as a drop point, transporting stuff from Florida to New England. I don’t have a clue what they were runnin’, but I don’t want nothing on my property that ain’t mine.”

Transporting.
What the hell could some outlaw biker gang from Florida possibly want to transport from one end of the country to the other? And the State Bureau of Investigations is involved. My mind runs over everything. The agent said they want to run guns. Transporting guns through old Clive’s shop seems ridiculous, though. The more I think about the different things they could push for later or in the long run, the more my head hurts.

The truth is scary. The truth is that the possibilities are endless.

Plans Change

Clive drops us off at the shop where Tommy and I left our bikes. With nothing more than a wave good-bye, I climb on old faithful, my Harley Davidson Sportster, and speed off.

Rhett and Mary Alice live on a three-acre place surrounded by corn fields. High school sweethearts, they moved in together right after graduation. If it weren’t for Mary Alice, I doubt Rhett would have finished school. He drives a truck, and thank fuck he was in town today when I sent Dia over there. He’s in and out of the area so much sometimes he can be gone for a few hours and other times, it’s for days.

Mary Alice is a tough broad and wouldn’t let anyone get to her girl, but I like the comfort of knowing Rhett is home, too. He’s gone more days than he’s home, so I got lucky he was in town. Mary Alice could handle herself if need be—Dia, too—but I feel better knowing my friend has my woman’s back. With their house out in the open, no one can approach without them knowing it first.

Rhett is on the front porch, lighting up a smoke, as I pop the kickstand down.

“Damn, Blaine, Dia said you went downtown.”

I nod as I step up beside him.

He pulls his pack of cigarettes back out to offer me one.

“Nah, I’m good. Just need my girl.”

“Wanna tell me what happened so I know what you set on my doorstep first?”

“If I had answers, I’d give ’em to ya. I just needed to know she was safe while I was unavailable.” I run my hands through my long hair, retying it back in a ponytail down my back. “These fellas rode up on Clive today.”