Reinventing Mel: A Hellion MC Novel (13 page)

Me.

And Mel.

And my girlie parts.

And him doing two (two!) women directly after me?  You've got to be kidding!  The day after he gave me mind-blowing sex and five orgasms he was with other women?

I spun on my heel and stormed back to my desk.

How dare he?
my mind screamed as I slammed my things onto my desk.  No gentleman would ever talk about a lady…

But you didn't act like a lady with him in the bedroom, now did you?

I huffed and I puffed as I put my desk to rights, slamming things in drawers and aligning them on my desk before turning off my computer.

A gentleman would never consider taking another girl, much less two, especially the day after…

Oh yes they would.  Even
I
knew that was some men's fondest fantasy.

The arguments went back and forth in my head.  One part of me livid over Mel's speaking to others about our special evening and another part of me refuting the accusations I heaped on him.  Reminding me our time in bed had been completely consensual and if I'd made the big-girl choice of having sex with him without a commitment or shared words of caring on both sides, then I needed to take what I got.

But I was ticked off and ticked good.

I'd clocked out and was just gathering up my purse when Trey swung by my desk, clearly on his way to the clubhouse for his after-hours libation.

"Uhm, Trey?  I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow and have to leave at noon," I said trying to keep my voice steady.  It was an out-and-out lie but I needed the hours to find a new place to live.  And maybe to look for another job.

I saw him glance my way before he nodded.  "Just email the rest of the managers to let them know.  I'll get a recruit or a Honey to work the desk.  Have a good evening, Lucille."

"You, too," I said forcing some cheer into my voice as he pushed out the door.

Hearing the thuds of boots coming my way, I quickly gathered up my purse and left the HC building.  I didn't want to be in the presence of any managers because I knew my humiliation in their knowledge of my private areas would be seen.  And there was the thought of the other girls, the Honeys that the men coming towards me had probably had sex with too.  Images of the motorcycle clubs sex play that I kept trying to firmly shove to the back of my mind.

Plus I'd had it up to
there
with all their crude, horny talk and could envision myself slapping each one of the three silly over just a raised eyebrow shot in my general direction.

Bikers?  Blech!

Chapter Thirteen

"You can't make me to go with them, douche bag!  I won't," Der screamed, his new boy-man voice cracking and his face purpling with his argument.

"You will, Der," Mel affirmed for the fifth time.  Shit, he'd known his brother would be against the idea of mandatory work at HMC but the little pecker didn't realize he didn't have a choice.

"I'll call the cops!  It's kidnapping and they can't just take me from school grounds…"

"I signed papers, Derek.  Allowing either Dice, Donny or So Cal to pick up you from school.  It'll be one of them or Reese, Dee or Teeny of the Honeys."  Mel was tired of explaining, of having to get all up in his bro's grille to get him to understand. 

"I-I'll ditch last class or I'll just run away," the teen promised, his eyes wild.

 "And the club will find you and drag you back.  Then you'll be on lockdown, kept at the compound twenty-four seven."  Mel was trying to stay calm but Der knew how to push his buttons to send his older brother's temper into the dangerous range.  "Is that what you fuckin' want?  Huh?  To have to do your goddamn classes online and live away from me and Jules? 
Is it
?"

He watched Derek grab a glass from the dish-drainer and hurl it towards the refrigerator and shatter on impact.  From his place at the dining room table, Mel brought a hand up to prevent the flying shards from hitting him.  He was only glad he'd asked Miss Dee to keep Jules overnight so he could have this talk with his brother without her hearing and seeing Der's meltdown.

"Feel better, punk?"   Mel whipped his head around at the sound of his sponsor's voice who was standing in the arch that separated the living room from the eating area of his residence.

"Who are you and why are you in our house?" Derek yelled.  "Fucking bikers think they own the freaking world around here!"

In four long strides, Dare had the younger Davis by the back of his neck and pulled him up onto the tiptoes of his running shoes.  "We
do
, you little shit.  A fact you need to fuckin' learn and learn
fast
."

Holding the kid in place with one beefy hand, Dare looked back to Mel.  "How long's this shit been going on?  Could fuckin' hear it all the way out in the street, man."

Mel shrugged in answer as his eyes remained on his brother.  It appeared the pissed off attitude had been momentarily replaced by fear, but Mel could see that his brother was screwing up his nerve to spew some other stupid shit.

Dare glanced at what he held and then gave a strong shake.  "Time for you to shut it and fuckin' keep it that way."

 "I'll tell!  I'll call the authorities and they'll…"

"They'll what, little dick?  At most the so called 'authorities' you're flapping your gums about will investigate.  Once Mel here shows 'em your fuckin' report card compared to the grades you were pulling in Texas and points out the Hellion Youth Program they'll be fuckin' falling all over themselves to fuckin' turn your sweet little behind over to us.  Get it?"

 "Dirty cops?  The bikers have cops in their pockets?" Derek squeaked out with wide eyes.

"What kind of shit movies do you let this prick watch?" Dare asked Mel who was smiling at his brother's incredulous expression. 

Turning back to the teenager still in his grip, Dare considered him before speaking again this time on a slow growl.  "You're a punk.  No, fuckin' lower than that, I think.  A wanna-be.  Which is even fuckin' worse because you don't even fuckin'
know
what you want, only what you don't.  And are letting the rest of your family know it by fuckin' not being around and then creating drama when you are. That.  Shit.  Stops.  Now.  Dig?"

Derek shot his eyes to Mel before going to the big man holding him.

"Nod your head, you stupid ass, so I know you hear me."

The teenager nodded.

"You're in the program and there's no getting out of it.  You'll do
what
you're told
when
you're told.  This is an opportunity.  Not a fuckin' punishment.  The Hellions have a good record with gettin' shit sorted, of getting' a man's life back on the fuckin' rails.  It's a way of teaching you about the stones you've gotten knocking together in your shorts and how to deal with the shit life throws at you."

Derek was listening closely, Mel could tell.

"Now, I'm gonna let you down slow and you're gonna thank your Uncle Dare and your brother for giving a shit about you and your worthless ass.  Then you're gonna clean up the mess your goddamn tantrum fuckin' created.  All right?"  Dare's voice was almost soft in the quiet of the kitchen.

There was another nod before Dare released his hold.  "C'mon, Mel.  Let's ride."

"Th-thank you," Mel heard from behind him as he followed behind Dare on their way to the front door stopping both of the big men in their tracks. 

It had been said with a quaver and it had been quietly spoken.  

But it had been said.

And that was the most important thing in Mel's mind.

*.*.*.*.*

I'd found the perfect little jewel of a place, a little eight unit, single-story complex just three blocks from my current building and offered for fifty dollars less than I was currently paying.

It already came with both blinds and curtains, built-in glass fronted bookshelves that bracketed the smallest fireplace in existence as well as a walk in closet.  I could see myself happily sewing in all the natural light the windows provided as well as cuddling up with a good book in front of a fire on a cold winter's night.

I signed a six-month lease and handed over cash to Mr. Sweatypants which was the only drawback to the apartment's perfection.  His name was actually Mr. Saramantidis but even in the coolness of the afternoon, he'd been sweating like a glass of ice tea on a hot summer day.  I would've had a problem with the way he'd eyed me but after meeting his missus I knew I'd be having no trouble with him going forward.  She may have been little but had no trouble backhanding his arm to yank him back into line.

Finding a local shipping place to get postage and packaging in order to forward my iPhone back home, I saw that they offered mailboxes on rental.  Another perfect solution if I had to move again on short notice.  I signed up immediately, grateful to have solved another problem.  There were still things in Albuquerque I wanted Shelly to forward to me.

I found a local moving company that gave me a fair quote before going to Mrs. Austen's to turn in my notice.  After much haggling, she had me sign the form which allowed her to keep my last month's rent in order to be able to move out that upcoming weekend.  After my time with her, I'd felt like I'd been through a war.

As I climbed the stairs to my soon-to-be-old apartment, I went through my mental checklist deciding I'd accomplished a lot in just one afternoon.  I could transfer my utilities during my lonely lunch the next day and then start boxing my things up over the rest of the week.  It would keep me busy which would help keep my mind off a certain man that I'd been trying to push out of my head.

How
dare
he share such intimate details with a group of men who I knew didn't value intimacy in any way, shape or form?  Although they hadn't come right out and said anything, each had paraded past my desk that morning and I caught different looks than those they'd given me previously.

Silo's morning chin-lift of greeting had held more than a hint of a knowing smile.

Bishop's eyes remained on me behind my desk, coming to me again and even over his shoulder as he'd passed after his normal, "S'up, beautiful."

But Dare, catching me standing and watering the ivy on top of the now-in-disuse file cabinets, was the most telling.  He stood just inside the doors and stared, actually stared at where my crotch would've been viewable if it weren't for my full skirt and petticoats.  "Hey, Lucille," he'd breathed with a note of wonder in his voice his eyes glued to the parts of me that would forever remain unseen by him.

"Dare," I replied as graciously as I possibly could trying to prevent the ice in my voice from leaking out as I turned away.

They were, all four of them, a bunch of dirty dogs that didn't in my opinion deserve even a modicum of my attention or interest.  And I was including the former object of my interest in that assessment as well.

Although I felt bad at having to include Mel in that group.  I'd thought he had been different, a gentleman who contained more gallantry than the others.  But I had been proven wrong.  Dead wrong.  So wrong it still hurt to think about him.

The creep.

As I put my key in my door, I glanced to the one next to mine.  She'd been so sweet and so welcoming, I felt I owed it to my senior neighbor to let her know of my plans.

"Hey, Mrs. P.  I just wanted to let you know I'll be moving out this coming weekend," I said when the fluffy haired woman answered her door.

"Figured that'd be the case with that man asking about you, Lucille."  The old woman's head tilted as she eyed my face carefully.  "You in some kind of trouble, honey?"

"Oh, heavens, no," I assured her forcing a laugh.  "I just found a bigger place for cheaper and decided to take it is all."

 But I didn't think she bought the story I was spinning.

"You want to come in?  I have a pound cake and some frozen blueberries."

"I'd love to but I have so much to do.  But I wanted to thank you for how welcome you've made me feel," I hedged. 

"So where're you going?"

"Ah, one those places up on Jefferson," I lied, vague in my description.  Gosh, for a girl that only believed in fudging the truth, I was almost choking in all my lies.

"Well, honey.  I'm sorry to see you go so fast.  You seem like one of those girls that has a good head on her shoulders, your choice of men friends notwithstanding," came the retort.  Trust Mrs. P to call them as she saw them.  "A man that kisses a woman on a first date ain't no gentleman in my opinion."

I blinked as I took in her words and decided the best reaction was none.  So I reached out a hand and clasped the crepe-like skin of her thin wrist underneath my fingers.  "It's been a pleasure living next to you." 

It had been, I assured myself as I unlocked my door, my most sincerest statement of the day.  I reached for my piece of crap phone in order to update Shelly with my new plans.

Lulu: 
Am sendg phone back 2 dad.

SPalm: 
U sure that’s best?

Lulu:  
Know no other way 2 keep B. off back.  Movg 2
.

SPalm: 
U may b right.  Things here still tense.  Jon hoppg mad @ u gone.

Lulu: 
He'll get over it.  2 many other girls on his chain 2 worry much bout me.

SPalm: 
But none 2 marry & gain crown.

Lulu: 
2 true.  Stay n touch, k?

SPalm: 
Will do.  B safe.  Luv u.

Lulu: 
Me 2.

 I'd been texting my sister since that first night, usually just a couple of lines to let her know I was still okay.  But her feedback on that night, especially considering her inclusion of my ex-fiancé's response to me leaving had me seeing red.  After catching him dead to rights with his hand down Tonya Meyer's expensive Carine Gilson panties, which start in the $200 range, had only seen him shrugging off my righteous indignation.

"I'm not a man who'll ever be satisfied with just one woman," he'd given as his excuse, totally unconcerned with getting caught.  After shuffling Tonya away and coming back to me only his hand moving over his head to signify anything untoward had happened, he drolly continued, "being the daughter of Mike Palmer, you should understand that.  And know your place and role in my life as my future wife."