Brave as It (Hellions Ride On #7)

3. Emmalee

THREE

EMMALEE

Life lessons with Emma: Even the best laid plans fall apart. I can’t expect this one to succeed.

Drive until the gas light pops on the car.

That’s what I did one week ago.

Sort of.

The plan seemed simple enough to give me a new start. Not that I wanted this new start. I just can’t find another solution. There weren’t options given, cut and dry instructions. When will life calm down?

After getting shot in Wesson and Colton’s second home, I spent weeks in the hospital and then more time in a rehabilitation facility. When I first woke up, I was overwhelmed with my injury and trying to heal. The bullet hit my brain but didn’t ricochet around like most do. At least that’s what the doctors told me. Short term impacts of a traumatic brain injury were learning to talk again. Coming to, I couldn’t piece much together. In fact, nothing made sense, even the biker in the wheelchair that wouldn’t leave my room. With the patience of a saint, he calmly explained things to me. It took me some time for the memories to come back. When they did, my emotions overwhelmed me more than the physical healing I was doing.

I had no idea it was Thomas Reigns outside the house when my father was shot and killed in front of me. He fired from outside. The window shattered and in an instant my dad was gone. In the chaos, I tried to do what Diem asked and hide in the closet. But I love her like a sister and even knowing now what would happen, I would have still stood beside her in those moments. She didn’t need to be alone.

Sure, I assumed it was O’Leary since that is who my dad and Thomas crossed. In the end, though, I was wrong. I went to the closet as Diem asked of me and called Colton. I put the video on just before being found and yanked around. I had all intentions of coming out as soon as I got my phone ready. Fate had a different plan. Getting me out in the open in front of my friend, the man held me firmly as Thomas took a knife to Diem. I watched helplessly as her own father (that’s what we thought our whole lives and now knew to be wrong) caused her physical pain.

It didn’t end there, Thomas Reigns shot me. I got lucky that it didn’t kill me. A bullet to the brain. Thankfully, the damaged parts have healed mostly. I had to learn to do things again but endured. To this day, I struggle with short term memory problems and a little delay in my speech, but otherwise no stranger could recognize I have a traumatic brain injury. I know what I live with. I know the struggles I’ll never bother to share with anyone. They remain inside my head and my heart and will forever be mine alone.

Some things never change though.

Brain rattled or not, when my mom called and begged me to help, I listened. I had two months of life with Wesson after I healed before my mother reached out. She was very specific with her instructions. I didn’t have time to think or weigh my options. Family matters, right? How can I turn my back on her?

I did exactly what she wanted. I lied to Wesson. I lied to Diem. I have lived the last year playing the part. I call Diem and tell her another lie. I can’t let them find me. I can’t go home until I help my mom.

I’m stuck. From the moment I took my mother’s call until now I’m stuck. She was clear that I couldn’t tell anyone, and I had to make them think I was all over the place. Even now, she still pulls the strings.

It all started when I hung up the phone and I got in my Mustang and drove inland. Avoiding the major roads, I took the backroads. I was putting Haywood’s Landing and my shattered dreams behind me. The less scenery the less reminders. It’s North Carolina, these open highways should be mostly pine trees. That was my headspace. Leave everything in the rearview. At least for the short term. It wasn’t supposed to last this long, either. I should have asked more questions. I should have demanded more of an explanation. Or I should have hung up the damn phone.

Hindsight is always clearer. Now, though, there isn’t anything I can change or escape. My mindset is find a way to have a new life for myself.

It’s hard to do that, though, when everywhere I turned from the moment I left to now, I find myself face-to-face with a reminder.

My first stop was a bus station. I followed the instructions provided and left my car, getting into the silver Chevy Cruze that was in the exact spot they told me it would be. It made my first lie to Diem easy. I was on a bus trip across the country to see and explore. Knowing the trauma we both endured, she didn’t even question my abrupt need to escape life on the coast.

How is this real? I had hoped I would arrive at the bus depot and the car wouldn’t be there. This would all be some weird dream and I would wake up. Only at every step it all stares me vividly in the face.

I left my life behind. I am doing exactly as instructed. How long until the next step? I don’t know.

What I do know is I can’t escape the Hellions. They seem to be everywhere.

The first time it was blaring me right in the face happened in Salemburg, North Carolina. I wasn’t low on gas, therefore stopping here wasn’t a big deal. Minding my business, driving along, I finally got the tears to stop, I was pulling myself together in that moment. This was it; I began my next phase in life. Drive until the gas runs out and begin there until I knew what was expected next. That was the plan until I passed a garage and a reality hit me.

Honey’s Hot Rods.

The shop isn’t the problem. Well, not exactly. The set-up is similar to the Haywood’s Landing garage where Wesson works as far as appearance. Red metal building with black accents. There was a half of a truck attached to the deck at the entrance. That is different than Haywood’s Landing. They even put a skeleton wearing a beanie in the driver’s seat. It’s definitely eye catching and memorable. What got me though, was the sign. It was just like Haywood’s Landing, font, colors, logo, all of it, including the Hellions insignia on the sign in the bottom right-hand corner.

It's a brand burned into my very soul.

A Hellion came into my life on New Year’s Eve and stamped my heart in a way that is crippling as I try to put it all behind me. Wesson, the Hellions, my family, and everything in between.

How am I going to put Haywood’s Landing behind me if everywhere I go there is another Hellion something or someone staring me in the face?

As if a gift from God himself, there is a sign directing me to Interstate ninety-five right in front of me. Yes, main highways, time to pivot. Maybe there won’t be Hellions on a run or a transport that swarms around me. Honestly, I can ignore the motorcycles and the trucks. I know they have a transport company which means any man behind one of these rigs could be one of them. Pedal down and drive on out, forget Wesson, forget Haywood’s Landing, forget it all. At least that’s what my mind told me. It wasn’t long before I found the Interstate and south bound putting all things Hellions, Wesson, and home behind me.

My gas light in this nondescript car popped on in Florence, South Carolina. Not knowing this car and who had it before, I didn’t want to push my luck on how far I can go after the alert. I did take a moment at a rest area to check the registration, insurance information, and tags. Everything seemed legit, it is registered to a holding company and the insurance card in the glove box proved I had coverage as a driver.

I can’t decide if I want a cop to pull me over, question me, and take me away so I can get out of this or if I want to be under everyone’s radar, do what needs to be done, and then face what comes after. Since I don’t actually know what is expected of me which means I don’t know when this will end, all I can do is take things one step at a time.

Like getting gas in what is my new to me car. Sticking to the big stops, I decide to pull off and top off at the new gas station. My plan was to get gas, find a side road, and start life. It was the concept, drive until the gas ran out and that’s where I can plant myself until I get my next instructions.

There are a few flaws in this plan.

Once again, they were present.

Here I was at a huge gas station with I swear close to a hundred gas pumps and a giant beaver as a mascot and who pulled in beside me? A freaking group of Hellions. Their vests or as Wesson calls it a ‘cut’ say Conway, SC. Outside of the city and state, the shit was exactly like Wesson’s just different ride patches.

He once explained that the back of each Hellion cut would have the insignia of the skull with wrenches crossing over it and flames. Some places had the city and state on the back, some just the state. The front always had their road-name on the left chest and if they hold an officer position that patch is on the right side of the chest against them not when facing them. Any other patches present are ones earned on a ride or by some memory.

Fuck me.

I can’t stop here to start over. I didn’t get far enough away. I don’t know what I’m involved in and what will be asked of me. I can’t risk Wesson finding me. This is supposed to be a trip to find myself, at least that’s what I told him. Well, no matter the truth behind what I’m doing, I can’t do any of it with the Hellions around.

It’s a gamble if Wesson will miss me, look for me, or simply let me go. With everything my dad did, I’m certain my family is blacklisted by the Hellions, if that is a thing. Even though Wesson tells me he claimed me making me safe within the club, I don’t believe it. My dad and Diem’s not actual father brought a whole bunch of trouble to Haywood’s Landing. Even though it cost my dad his life, I don’t see how any Hellion can let that go. Why not punish me for sins of my father?

Then there is Wesson. As much as he promised me all kinds of things, I can’t tie up my faith in a man. My mom, Diem’s mom, even Diem and myself, we relied on Reign’s Enterprises for everything. When it all fell apart so did our lives. I can’t rely on anyone. Especially Wesson Vaughn.

Did he ask me to stay? Absolutely.

Did I stay? Obviously not.

Was he angry I left? Oh yeah, the fury radiated off him when I shut down any conversations to change my mind. Am I wrong for running away? Probably, but I have my reasons. Those very reasons I didn’t share with anyone, not even Diem, because they love me too much and would talk away my decision.

Using the new credit card provided to me, I filled up my car and got back on the road headed South. I had no specific destination in mind. I had no rules except get distance between me, Haywood’s Landing, and especially the Hellions. No place to be or time to be there. My only goal was to get as far away from home and start life again.

I let the signs pass by and the miles move under me when I crossed the state line to Georgia. The Hellions are in the Carolina’s, I remember Wesson saying something like that. Maybe Georgia is the place for me. I like peaches, this could work.

I start paying attention to the exits waiting for my gut to tell me where to pull off. I hit the exit and make a right onto some road. In Brunswick Georgia, at least that’s what the last sign said, I head west on highway eighty-two. Get away from the coast , I think to myself. As much as I love the beach and it calms my soul, I can’t be found easily. The miles move on as I now work my way inland in Georgia. God, I would miss the beach. There is something comforting while inhaling the salt in the air and feeling the sand between my toes.

Pressing on, I’m in the middle of nowhere when it’s time to find a gas station. At a quarter of a tank, I always begin to get anxious. Dad always told me it was bad to let the car get below that since it would work the crud from the gas tank into the engine. The thing is, I told myself go until I needed gas and start over.

How many times have I failed to keep a promise to myself?

The last stop, I couldn’t stay. The point is to get away from the Hellions, not land myself in another one of their towns. If Wesson asked me to come home, I don’t know that I’m strong enough to say no. When he asked me to stay it killed me inside to deny his request. I want nothing more than to be with him. Only fate doesn’t seem to want that for my destiny.

Finding a gas station, I filled up before parking to the side of the store. I grabbed some snacks and more water since the ones I packed in my cooler had long since ran out. The day drags on when all I have done is drive. It was a little over six hours into my adventure when I got off the Interstate in Brunswick. According to my phone, I’m now in Sumner, Georgia and it’s been almost three hours on this country road to get here.

I’m in the process of reserving a hotel room when I hear them.

The pipes.

I know that sound.

It played over and over in my head. Diem told me how it feels to ride with Colt. Wesson doesn’t have a bike anymore. He said after the accident it wasn’t something he wants. Bike or not, he lives that life and it’s beautiful. The passion, the loyalty, the love, and everything about being a Hellion is much more than a motorcycle.

The accident that changed him forever may have taken his bike away, but it didn’t take away the Hellions.

He thinks it makes him less than, I think it makes him everything. Wesson Vaughn is the strongest man I’ve ever met. Loyalty, he has it to the core. He wouldn’t run far away from me even when he should have. He is a total package. The way he gives me confidence I’ve never had before. The way he can talk me down every damn time the anxiety creeps in threatening to take over. The way he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room even when we are in a crowded place. The way he protects me and guards me always looking out for my comfort and safety.

And he does it all after losing his legs.

I’m the idiot leaving him behind.

What other choice do I have?

The tears fall down my face as I try in vain to see the screen of my phone. A tap at my window makes me jump. Turning my head the sight in front of me has my anxiety rising to a fever pitch.

Right outside my car is a woman with black and red hair. Her eyes pierce into mine as I roll the window down.

“Who are you?” She asks with a tone so sharp I feel my own throat close up.

“Emmalee,” I manage to speak.

She nods, “Emmalee from North Carolina, what brings you to Sumner?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Needed gas.”

“Seems you got your gas, got your food, and yet, you’re sitting in this car, with your head slumped over and tears running down your face. Are you on something?”

I gasp! “Oh God no! I … I …I,” I stutter, “I’m on a road trip.”

Her face gets this edge to it, more so than before if that is even possible. “Don’t know you, don’t want issues with you. I’m Princess, my man is Cruz, President of the Ravage MC. We don’t like visitors and I damn sure don’t like damsels in distress. You need to find yourself sweetheart, this ain’t the place for you to do it.”

A man wearing a leather cut calls out to her to come on. Only then does her face soften. “Seriously, you’re too soft to be in this town with my club. Get going and don’t look back. You aren’t meant to be an ol’ lady. Been around long enough to read that all over your face.”

Before I can respond, she walks off like she didn’t just judge me in the harshest of ways.

No, I’m not meant to be an ol’ lady in a motorcycle club, fate has made that clear. How can she think I’m a damsel in distress, I didn’t ask her for anything. I’m trying to figure this out! I’ve been shot. I have battle scars outside and inside.

Her judgement sparks a fire inside me. I won’t cry anymore. Fuck anyone who thinks I can’t tough it out as an ol’ lady or not. I’m stronger than anyone thinks. With this new resolve. I hit the road once again.

South bound.

It’s the only thought I have as I pull away with her stone-cold eyes watching me go.

A place where a stranger can’t read me in less than sixty seconds. One thing about this trip, it’s going to make me stronger or kill me.

I don’t know which.