The Possibility of Trey (23 page)

"What's so funny about that?"

"Listen, sister, and listen well. One little known fact about bikers, and this has to stay between you and me, is that they gossip more than any little old ladies do. Word is, you and the Prez are somewhat of an item. An item with overnight visiting privileges, suck-face rights and might even contain the old 'getting jiggy wid it' contingents."

I felt the blow-torch of embarrassment hit my cheeks and I threw my eyes wildly around the room, looking for something,
anything
to do instead of look at my younger brother.

"They're all talking about it, even the girls. Trying to figure out the attraction." My brother's voice held laughter as he spoke, which kind of hurt. It was one thing for me to be confused by what Trey saw in me but another to think of the bright parrots wondering about it as well. I heard the lids of the washers bang shut before I felt Drake slide an arm around my shoulders.

"Hey. Hey, Lally. What's wrong? Did I say something…"

"No. You didn't. I'm just surprised, I guess. I mean, its new and everything so I haven't talked about it with anyone." I was shaken to my roots. What if someone said something to Trey? Would he start to wonder about it as well?

"Listen, they're giving him hell about it, too. But he doesn't say anything which Bishop says means Trey is serious."

God. I was so starved for confirmation that I was really with Trey one-on-one that my brother's words were like a balm

"And let me tell you, from the shit I've seen? These bikers aren't at all serious about
any
girl. Especially not if it’s one of the unclaimed Honeys! These guys fuck like rabbits and don't seem to be too choosy about who they get with as long as they're getting theirs. If it itches, they freakin' well scratch it, if you know what I mean."

Shit! I knew exactly what he meant and suddenly I was back in the same place I had been, balancing Trey the man against Trey the biker.

Quiet settled between us as we stayed in place, Drake's arm still around my shoulders as he rubbed my upper arm.

"But, Trey, he's a good guy. The best. The kind of guy I hope to be someday. I don't know if you could've found better, to tell you the truth. But I sure as shit know you can and have done worse." He squeezed my arm before turning me into him. "I'm sorry. Actually, that's kind of why I wanted you to come see me. To tell you how sorry I am. Sorry for all the fucked up stuff I did before. God, you've been so good about taking care of me with the jail shit and the fines. All while taking care of mom and dad and holding down a job."

I felt the first of my tears hit my eyes. I tried blinking to hold them back but it was a lost cause.

"You've been a fucking tower for us, Lal. And as soon as I'm able, I'll help pick up the slack as well as pay you back for all you've done." The sincerity in Drake's voice was hard to miss. I felt him pat my back as my breath hitched giving full confirmation of my meltdown. "You go on and cry, Dallas. You deserve it."

So I did.

I let go of the shit I'd been holding inside, both the good and the bad plus all the confusion about getting with a biker, just letting it all leak out onto my brother's former crisply ironed shirt. When I was down to just the remaining gasps, I felt him shift before he handed me a clean, white handkerchief.

The sight of it made me grin.

Drake leaned down until we were eye-to-eye. "Feel better?"

I nodded as I mopped up my face.

"Good. Now let's get the clothes in the dryer. The secret to fresh clothes that don't require an iron is to remove them immediately at the exact moment they're completely dry." He held a entirely serious face and tone as he imparted that little bit of sagacious wisdom.

I couldn't help my sharp bark of laughter my 'new' brother quickly joined in on.

Trey pulled up his calendar on the computer. He fucking
loved
Monday mornings and considered them the 'do-over' for the week before. A chance to rectify whatever had cocked up and make it right in the kingdom of Hellion Construction.

"They're ready for you in the conference room," Rita advised over his phone's intercom. "The managers for Idaho are already on the bridge-line and I had the speaker phone swapped out since you had so much trouble with it last month."

"Thanks, Rita." Trey, like most everyone who worked out of HC's headquarters, treasured her and knew that she was an integral part of the business's success. "What time for Wyoming?"

"Eleven, but I confirmed that each manager was flexible an hour on either side of that."

"Great! No interruptions unless someone is bleeding or dying." It was his standard warning, something he said every month and it earned him a giggle but this time he added to it. "Or unless the call is from someone with the last name of Sheridan."

Typically, the monthly management meetings ran between four and five hours depending on the business at hand. But he knew the doctor was meeting with Dallas's family this morning and wanted to ensure that, if need be, he was available to take the call regarding Mary's progress.

"Will do. I also brought in a box of Treasure State donuts. Tell the boys to play nice and then clean up after yourselves," Rita advised and he could hear the smile in her voice.

"You're the best, babe." Back in the day, Rita had been married to Gear. But after Gear bought it in a scuffle over a knife at a convenience store, she'd married a civilian and dropped out of the Honeys. Becoming the right-hand of whoever held the helm of HC had come later and Trey often wondered if it was her way of staying close to her former 'family'.

Trey entered the conference room to see the members of his council and Dice already seated, the decimated box of donuts lying open with one lonely cruller remaining.

"What the fuck? One? You only left me one?"

"No. You've got it wrong," Dare shot back. "We
left
you one. You know, out of respect."

"If it'd been anyone else, they'd have gotten jack shit. What's the rule? Last one to the table …" Huff added with a smirk.

The meeting started as the men from Idaho reported in. Trey kept his council brothers in on all that was happening being a firm believer that no one man should hold all the knowledge. If something were to happen to him, his brothers would be able to pick up the reins and business could go on as usual.

While they were waiting for the bridge-line for the Wyoming group, Bishop recounted what he'd found out about Brechot in Idaho.

"It took me awhile to dig the shit out but I got it. Yeah, there's a clear case of collusion fucking happening there. He's got a brother-in-law and two cousins on his mother's side sitting in positions of power. Which is how the fucker beat us on those three bids. It was hard to find until I researched his family tree."

"Gotta love the internet," Silo growled. "Can't hide shit on the web."

"If you're sure of the connection then get the goddamn ball rolling on exposing that shit. I want those fuckers to go down with such an audible bang we'll hear it here in Missoula." Trey'd had it up to there with his so-called competitor. If the motherfucker had to have help in order to win the bids then, in Trey's eyes, the man was no longer a competitor but an outright enemy.

"The other thing I found?" Bishop's eyes were almost dancing as he got ready to drop another bomb. "Seems Brechot's mom had a sister. And the sister was a fucking serial bride. One of her marriages was to a man by the name of Fremont. She had two kids with the guy. Those fucking kids just happen to be Jack and Daisy."

"Holy fuck! Fat Jack and the bull-dyke are related to Brechot?" Dare's face reflected the shock felt around the table.

"I can't even fathom them
having
a mom. I thought demons were spawned in one of the different levels of hell," Dice added dryly.

"Needless to say, that's a game changer and something we need to jump on. Si? I need you and Bishop on point for this one. I know you both have a lot on your plates but if what's doing is what I think it is, we gotta get on this shit AS-fucking-AP. " Trey felt his stomach sour at the thought of Brechot and Fat Jack. Although he could see the resemblance. Each thought they were smarter than they actually were and held more power than they actually had been allowed. It was time for both of them to become more self-aware regarding their shortcomings.

As president of both HC and HMC, Trey was determined the motherfuckers were going down as fast as was humanly possible.

"This shit is killing my chill," Dare grumbled. "We need a fucking party, Trey."

Trey glanced at the other men and saw most were nodding in agreement. Things had been brewing and he knew the brothers needed to let off some steam.

"You suggested it, you put it together, amigo." Trey felt the tension which had been building around the table immediately dissipate.

The rest of the meeting, as well as the rest of Trey's work day went without a hitch and found him calling it quits early.

"I'll be across the forecourt, Rita," he advised on his way out of the heavy glass door. "But I'll have my cell on if anything rears its head."

"Enjoy," came the reply.

Oh, he would. A few of glasses of High West, a call to his girl to determine when they could meet up at his place and then riding ball deep between her creamy thighs would most definitely make for an enjoyable evening.

.
.
.
.*

In my mind all my fears, doubts and concerns regarding where I stood in Trey's world were officially answered at exactly 4.47 pm. I know the time because I'd just punched out.

Had I been two minutes earlier or two minutes later, I wouldn't have had confirmation of it. Or maybe I would've but at some later date and time.

All I knew was that from my vantage point at the time clock, I could see almost the full back half of the HMC clubhouse through the plate glass windows and glass door of the HC.

Including the main door of the clubhouse.

A door I could see my man strutting across the forecourt towards. And out of which flew a girl. One of the beautiful bright parrots with big hair, big boobs and small clothes.

She screamed with an ear to ear smile and flew towards Trey before jumping up on him. On him and wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck before the two of them performed a lip-lock of such epic proportions, I had to look away.

To look away as my heart burned inside my chest, weakening my knees and causing the room to tilt hard enough, I had to steady myself against the wall. I raised my head trying to convince myself I hadn't really seen what my eyes had viewed but there they were. Still connected, only Trey's hands were on her ass as he continued his journey into the club itself with his female accessory.

"Oh, Dallas. Don't worry about it, honey. He's a biker. Bikers do what bikers do and as Prez, Trey's a law unto himself." Rita's voice was right next to me and I was surprised to find I was standing in front of her desk, her face turned towards the window. She looked at me and I saw sympathy in her eyes. "Hook ups happen all the time and usually don't mean anything more than an itch that needs scratching."

I must've made some expression or moved, or something, because she added, "just don't take it personally. What you saw was more than likely him just needing a different flavor for the moment."

In retrospect, I think Rita was trying to help but her words only added more neutrons to my internal Hiroshima. Which, like most horrific disasters, gave me a couple of beats of numb. But I knew epic pain would soon follow.

Luckily, when the first punishing concussion pulsed, I was sitting in the cab of my truck just getting ready to turn the ignition. Starting in my chest and then radiating swiftly throughout my body, the pain intensified to the point I gasped. I pressed a fist to my lips to prevent any further noises from escaping while my other hand grabbed my t-shirt over my heart, fisting and turning it, trying to turn off the pounding tormenting waves of ache. I couldn't breathe in anything more than a shallow pant and had no control over the shaking of my body or my whimpers, which refused to remain unvoiced.

I dropped my head to the steering wheel as the first bomb of hurt eased. I tensed every muscle in my body to gain control but felt the undertow of next wave which, I knew, heralded more devastation was on its way. And told me that I needed to come up with an immediate plan, a way to keep my shit together yet to protect both myself and my family.

With the radio off and driving as slow as a senior citizen, I carefully maneuvered the driveway next to the forecourt, my eyes seeing Mr. Kettering and Mr. Jovanovic going to the clubhouse. Both of them stopped walking and their gazes followed my truck. Mr. Kettering's eyes caught and bored into mine as I passed and seemed to be concerned.

That gave me my first idea of how to get away from Trey. Because that's what I needed. To get away and stay away from Trey, his lackeys and his fucked-up, fucking biker life.

How could've I been so stupid? I'd been warned even before signing on with Hellion Construction. But, no. I
knew
I was smarter than that.
I'd
never be attracted to a biker. I'd
never
become ensnared by a man who played so loose and free with his dick that you couldn't be assured you wouldn't catch a disease just rubbing against him!