Brave as It (Hellions Ride On #7)

10. Wesson

TEN

WESSON

Boomerism: There is no peace in chaos.

Living life on the edge both in my military career and as a Hellion, I have never been this consumed by fear. Even with my accident, I wasn’t this anxious. Some of the people I love the most are in danger, and I can’t simply fix it.

Truthfully, we are both anxious as we get off the plane. I can only imagine the level of emotions plaguing Karma right now. Hollis is his whole world even above the club. He is the man he is today because he’s Hollis’s dad.

In these couple of hours, we have been out of reach, what may have changed? We have to get out of here, get an update, and make a plan. Having no carry-ons or luggage we don’t have to go to baggage claim. Grab a ride share or taxi and get to our family. My adrenaline pumps knowing we are close, not only to Emmalee, but to getting Dia, Maritza, and Hollis.

Family is everything.

I just hope my chair doesn’t hold Karma up more than it already has. Time is everything in these situations and dealing with the stops for me to transfer matter. It kills me inside. I want nothing more than to take off running right into the situation.

I can’t.

And that kills me more than anything.

Growing up, we used to chant, “can’t never could.” Never in my wildest nightmares did I envision truly experiencing a can’t. I was the man who believed everything was possible.

Until it wasn’t.

I can’t fail these people and I can’t let my limitations hold anyone back. This one matters more than any mission I’ve ever been a part of both in the Army and on the home front. Even now, years after my accident, there are times things pop up and fuck with my head more than the usual.

Flying as a person in a wheelchair is a problem. I don’t care what airline it is and how inclusive they intend to be, there is always, and most likely will always be hiccups in flying compared to an able-bodied person. The aisles aren’t fit for standard wheelchairs and while I have a custom, smaller one, it still doesn’t work easily through planes. Due to the position of the locks for my chair I am always forced to be the last one off. Normally it’s fine, but right now every second counts, and my lack of legs is causing Karma delays. The guilt gnaws at me, but I don’t have time to dwell.

Everyone around us ceases to exist. One focus pushes us both. We are coming out of the airport to catch a taxi or try to book a ride share when we see a man in a cut. We aren’t home, this isn’t our territory, but neither of us are about to take off our colors. If our cuts piss this man and his club off, he can get in line until we are done with our business here.

Most clubs, even the Hellions, don’t react when someone passes through. It’s when an outsider stays, or trouble is stirred that problems begin, and we do whatever is necessary to protect our own. However, not every MC is the same. Some kill for fucking sport. I don’t know what we are coming into with another club already present at a fucking airport.

Getting closer, he twists looking around him with his sign and we see the prospect patch on the back. At least he has no power. He won’t shoot first and ask questions later, that will cost him his rocker regardless of the level of risk any club plays at. The sign has my name on it making me wonder how he knows to look for me. He catches my eye taking in my chair. His stare lingers a bit and I feel the acid burn in my stomach.

Same look most people give and right now that pity makes me want to throat punch this motherfucker. Territories be damned, fuck my code, and take out my aggression wherever I can. Right now, that feels like him.

“Busted?” he asks as we approach.

“What’s it to ya?” I counter even knowing my cut states my name in plain sight for him.

He motions behind him, and a van begins to pull up. “I’m Tubs and a prospect for Sinister Sons. Supposed to take you with me.”

I jerk my head back. “And I’m to blindly trust you? A prospect?”

“We’re here to get you to Emmalee.” He explains like I should already know it. There hasn’t been a spare second to turn on our phones and touch base with Tripp. I know I told him to call the Sons but that doesn’t mean it was successful.

Karma and I look at each other stunned. Nothing goes this easy and the Sons, well they damn sure don’t owe me shit. Hell, I threatened war. No way I’d meet someone at the airport to give them a lift after that. I asked Tripp to give a marker for them to keep eyes on Emmalee not give us a red-carpet welcome.

Maybe Stone was trying to get a rise out of me on the phone. I don’t know what Emmalee told him concerning her past and where she comes from. I’d fuck with someone I didn’t know if a woman didn’t seem comfortable with the conversation. Her declining my calls made it clear, she was anything but okay with talking to me. I’ll handle that situation later. First things first, find Hollis and get the boy safe with his dad.

The van door opens, and I lean back in my chair to get the tilt. As soon as my front wheels hit the side of the van, Karma lifts the back rolling me up as I transfer to the seat behind the passenger seat. Karma folds my chair with practiced ease before rounding the van to the sit beside me. When going on transports, Karma and I have an easy system to get through the runs. He’s dealt with my wheelchair plenty. The driver turns to look at me. He isn’t fazed by my missing legs.

Impressive, there aren’t many people who can take it like it’s everyday normal.

The driver talks not at all concerned with my missing limbs. “Stone, President of the Sinister Sons MC and Emmalee’s boss. This is my brother, Racer,” he looks to the man in the passenger seat before pushing a button to open the rear hatch. The prospect climbs in and they close it. The back seats are gone leaving him to slide in and hang loose.

“Got a situation,” Stone begins to explain, and I want to laugh, situation is not even the right word. “Emmalee is havin’ a situation. Don’t much like you involvin’ my employee in your shit.”

“Got a history with Emmalee. Saw the video and saw a familiar face,” I elucidate.

“Tripp called down here, explained there is a boy been kidnapped.” He puts on a turn signal and heads away from the airport. “Don’t like the shit, but kids aren’t really an area the Sons step into.”

“That’s my son,” Karma interjects. “He’s not any kid, he’s a Hellion.”

“Yeah, Tripp said that, too.” Stone continues, “Don’t know what you told her or what she said to the woman.”

“What do you know?” Karma jumps in not hiding his aggravation with the idle chit-chat. He wants answers and quick. I get it. This is his only son.

“Had to put things in place once I found out you weren’t just callin’ to try to win back that pussy. Took time to get boys where they needed to be after I talked to Tripp.”

I have to bite back the need to choke him for making it like Emmalee is simple pussy.

“We got eyes on Emmalee’s place. The kid is there. He’s okay. Can’t say the same for everyone else.”

No.

Just no.

This shit is not happening right now. I am not stuck in a van with a stranger driving and being told Emmalee is hurt … or worse. Fuck!

“Not big on games, Stone.” I let him know while looking at Karma who is ready to jump out of this moving vehicle.

Stone laughs unfazed by the two of us. “Not playin’ games. One woman is dead, another has been shot. The boy is fine. I got my other brother Hunter watching them. Got the rest of my club headed back. We were on a run as support so I’m short my guys until they can get back to the area. Hunter was sitting alone with too many unknowns to make a play yet. Once shots were fired, numbers didn’t seem to be against him, he moved in. Sorted what he could of things while I was waiting for your plane to land. Figured we can chat. You hacked our shit?”

His question toed the line between question and statement.

“Technically me, no, but was it for me? Yes,” I explain. “Didn’t hack for gains just information.”

Working relationships are a balance. A give and a take of sorts. In order for him to give me what I need then I have to give him what he wants. I can play this to keep things even … for now.

“The woman on the video with Emmalee. The one with your boy,” he says looking at Karma through the rearview while navigating through traffic and ignoring speed limits. “She’s dead.”

Karma runs his hand through his hair. I don’t know how to process that Anna is dead, I can’t imagine what Karma feels. Did Hollis see it? Didn’t have the best early days myself. That shit scarred my soul. How will this impact Hollis?

“My kid?” Karma inquires the panic rising.

“Told you, he’s okay. There is another woman, he calls her Zizi, she covered him with her body. She’s refusing to let our doc take out the bullet in her stomach until someone the kid knows is here to be with him. We need to put her under, doc says, but she’s refusing. We have the bleeding under control, but bitch is crazy about your son. Won’t let us near him.”

“Fuckin’ Maritza,” Karma says to no one in particular. “She got shot, where is this brother of yours?”

“Where is Emmalee?”

Stone’s face changes. “Hunter is on site with Zizi. Emmalee, that is the unknown. O’Leary came to get her. Something about money from her dad. Which we knew about her dad back when we hired her. Just couldn’t understand why she was in Florida. It didn’t make sense. She worked hard and didn’t bother anyone, so we’ve let her be without asking questions. We have beef with O’Leary on a deal he fucked up. He’s not supposed to come anywhere near Crest. We get to him, we’re gonna handle that. Hunter was alone, I got guys out on a support run, like I told you. We were short. Right now, I got men moving in to help and our doc ready to help the woman and anyone else who needs it. It was my call to make. Hunter saw things escalating and wanted to step in. Too many variables. I told him, make no moves, only watch and keep me posted until I had you two. Didn’t know O’Leary would roll in. Once he did, shit changed. Emmalee left with O’Leary before we could make a play. Hunter took the next steps to access who was left and what was needed. Hunter called our doctor to help Zizi and is waiting for us to arrive.”

“Is Emmalee with O’Leary then?”

“Yes, and so is the other woman, Dia.” He casually lets out like it isn’t a big deal.

“Get up with Link,” I tell Karma. “If he can get any kind of lock on Emmalee or Dia have him send me the pin.”

“Don’t know much about you Hellions,” Stone continues without missing a beat, “but I know Dia is your president’s daughter. Tripp made it clear who she is and the depths he will go to for his daughter. I’m not fucking around with that. Got a good relationship with Ravage MC. Cruz said no war. The only reason I took Tripp’s call was because Cruz cleared him. You get me? For Cruz, I’ll stand down. You threaten me again, I’ll wipe out your entire club.”

Rage boils inside me but I don’t have time or energy for this tit for tat shit. “I get you. We can settle our battle of whose balls are bigger after I have Emmalee back safe.”

“She’s a fine piece of ass, you got,” Racer says with a smirk.

“You don’t want war; I suggest you shut your brother up. She’s mine.”

Stone laughs while I find none of this funny. “Calm down, Racer likes to rile people up. Emmalee is hot but she’s never been open to anyone around her. Bitch has walls up and we ain’t the kind of fuckers to put forth the energy.”

“How far out ‘til we get to my son and Maritza?” Karma asks deterring the conversation from Emmalee which is probably for the best. He knows me and these two keep up this shit, I’ll lose it. We need them and all of it without the distraction of a fight.

“Two minutes, for the boy and the woman” Stone replies. “For Emmalee and Dia, your club is on the way, but I don’t think we got that kind of time Hellion. I got my guys digging in to get a location, but no luck yet. Once we have it, we ride out to get her and Dia. Hellions will need to give us a marker, but Tripp understands our terms already.”

“I go with you.” I mutter through gritted teeth. O’Leary has Emmalee and Dia; he’s crossed a line bigger than coming to Haywood’s Landing. He should have brought this fight to the Carolinas.

“We’ll have a location in the next sixty seconds, Busted.” Karma states looking at his phone. “Link got it.”

Racer twists in the seat to look at me. “Get it, man, you got pride. But you got no legs. You’re gonna hold us back. Don’t worry, we won’t let Emmalee think less of you.”

I lunge forward wrapping my arm around his throat pressing him into the seat. The only thing that keeps me from falling out of my seat is the seatbelt. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ underestimate me. I can do anything any one of your mother fuckers can do and I can do it without my fuckin’ legs. And you may not want me there, but I’ll be there, and I’ll be the one with one shot, one kill. I’ve got more training in my non-existent pinkie toe than you have in your entire able body.” I release him and to my surprise both Racer and Stone laugh.

“Got balls, Busted. You’re in.” Racer says clearing his throat. “Didn’t see how far you’re willing to go ‘til now. Emmalee, she matters.”

I don’t reply as I sit back in the seat the rage inside me boiling over. We pull into a small parking lot of a motel in front of door number seven. Harleys are parked around so I know we’re in the right place for Maritza and Hollis.

“Karma, here is your stop,” Stone explains. “Looks like Hunter got the Tampa chapter to ride in to take his back. You’ll have support until you leave.”

“Pin is coming, Busted.” Karma says giving me a somber look, “They aren’t far away. You give me a second to tell my son that I’m here, I’ll ride out with you. Gotta get Maritza to trust these guys with Hollis and get treated. I’m with you, brother, after that.”

“Karma, Maritza need you and Hollis needs you more. Go do you. I have my new friends here and I don’t know that Emmalee or Dia have a second to spare.”

He nods. “Don’t like it, but I get it.” He looks to Stone, “shit goes down and Busted is not okay comin’ out of this, I’ll personally end every person in your fuckin’ blood line.”

I don’t like separating. It’s always good to have a brother you can trust at your back. These Sons I do not trust at all. Beggars can’t be choosers and right now I have to get to Emmalee and Dia.

“You Hellions like to fight, it seems,” Racer taunts.

Ignoring him, I hand my phone to Racer who shows it to Stone as he backs out from the parking spot. The prospect moves in to sit in the seat Karma vacated since the third row of seats have been removed from this van.

“That’s the old air strip of the Buchanan family.” Racer explains studying the screen. “He’s got a private plane coming, I’ll put money on it.”

“Fuck,” I roar. “They get in the air; we got nothing until Link can track her again.”

“Your man has skills, we been at this shit half an hour or more and got nowhere,” the prospect chimes in.

All the Jacoby brothers are the fucking best, but I’m not about to get into that. “How far out are we?” I ask trying to get an idea of our distance to close in on her.

“Eight minutes max,” Stone tells me while looking around. “O’Leary is a smart son-of- a-bitch. Can’t go in on bikes because he’s gonna watch for Sons. We got the mom van which is good. Do you shoot?” He asks me.

“Army before my accident. Sharpshooter.”

Racer gives a proud smile before pushing a button on the middle console that slides a drawer open to me. “Prospect will get the AR from the back. Busted, pick your nine from those. Vests are under your seat. Suit up, grab some clips and get ready for battle, soldier.”

What kind of crazy motherfuckers are these to outfit a van as a battle machine? I don’t give a fuck right now, I’m ready to kill anyone who gets between me and Emmalee and Dia.

O’Leary or Sinister Sons be damned.