The Possibility of Trey (33 page)

"And that means…?" Trey settled his face into a look of confusion even though he wanted to reach across the desk in order to slam the old fucker's face repeatedly into the faux wood top.

"You're fucking with the wrong man, boy."

"Really? Hmm. Seems to me that a man and a company who has to have outside help in order to win bids isn't much competition. Not in our industry anyway." Trey was prodding the lion in the cage but didn't rightly give a fuck. "There were plenty of opportunities for you to win bids fair and square but you chose not to play that way. And blaming HC for your decision to stack the deck is straight up chicken shit."

"Why you…"

"In fact, once word gets out about your way of doing business I think your time even in our fair city is pretty limited, Emil."

He watched the other man reach for his waistband which Trey thought was to pull up his pants as bantam cocks were wont to do.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

The first bullet went into the area above Trey's kneecap and the second in his lower belly before his brothers disarmed and held the older man face down on the floor until MPD and the ambulance arrived.

Trey by that time had conveniently passed out.

.
.
.
.*

Silo was the one that picked me up from the job site, giving me the info about Trey and racing me to the hospital. By the time I got there, the waiting room in Emergency was filled with Hellions as well as Honeys.

Dee, Reese and Carly immediately peeled off from the pack and surrounded me.

"How is he?" I asked and could feel the wetness on my face in the cold air of the hospital's a/c.

Carly pressed a tissue into my hand as Dee described what she knew. "Although we won't know much more until his folks get here since the hospital can't release info 'cept to family."

Reese pulled me in next to her and began to speak on a rough whisper. "Like me, all this biker shit stuff is new and weird to you. So I need you to listen to me because you're gonna get a crash-course in how things are handled within the club, okay?"

I must've nodded because she went on, her beautiful brown eyes serious. "I know you're worried about Trey, probably out of your mind, but you're gonna have to put that aside for a bit. As the president's old lady, everybody is gonna be looking to you for guidance on how to react and what to do. I know, I know. Intrusive, right? But that's how it works in the Hellion family."

"Family?"

"Yeah, Dallas.
Family
. And like most families, they're all up in your shit when you don't want or need them to be. When you need a bit of quiet to work it out in your head. But, you aren't gonna get it." She gave me a hard squeeze around my waist. "What you are gonna get is the care and support of more people than you know what to do with. Myself included. If it gets to be too much, you give me a signal and we'll do a girls confab in the Ladies room. Okay?"

I felt my eyes begin to leak at Reese's words as a little of my fear eased a little. After using her thumbs on my cheeks, she took a step back as if to give me room to absorb what she'd said.

So we stood, our little huddle of four, waiting for Trey's parents, Trike and Cutie, to arrive. Their names were actually Barry and Melissa and they'd been in the club until a few years ago but still carried and were known by their biker and Honey names. I'd met them when Trey had taken me to the family home one Sunday where we'd had good food and a good time. I discovered my man had gotten his height and bulk from his dad but his gorgeous brown coloring was all from his still-beautiful mom.

About twenty minutes later, the Morrows bustled in and made straight for the desk before turning back to the almost silent room.

"They're taking him to surgery," Trike announced loudly and I saw him grab Cutie around her waist, seeming to gain strength from having her near. "Is Dallas here?"

I raised my hand and began to weave in and out of the crowd to get to them.

"Aw, girl," Trike breathed, pulling me into his chest by the back of my neck. I felt Cutie's arm around my waist as she moved to press against my side.

"Is he going to be okay?" My voice was small and timid as I asked my question into Trey's dad t-shirt.

"They don't know, baby," Cutie replied, her lips close to my ear.

"Not much for praying but it seems to be appropriate right 'bout now." I heard Trike's growl more through his chest than his mouth. On the outside, with his folded bandana holding his long gray-streaked hair back he was all biker. But as I'd discovered when I first met him, Trey's dad was a teddy-bear on the inside.

I'd had an inkling that bringing a girl to dinner with his folks was a big deal but really got the rest of it by their inclusion of me within the family circle at the hospital. A fact that settled me at a core level.

"Did they tell you the damage?" I asked, turning my head so I could see his mom. She was so beautiful with her long dark hair and expressive red-brown, long-lashed eyes.

I felt Trike's movement and saw Cutie was copying it with a negative head shake.

"According to Bishop and Si, he got hit above the knee and just above his groin," I said, somehow both saddened yet glad I was giving them the news.

"And the motherfucker that shot him?" I recognized the menacing growl that Trike had bequeathed his son.

"All the offices are wired for both video and sound," Bishop said from behind me. "We took Brechot down and MPD carted his motherfucking ass away."

"This better not play out as goddamned aggravated 'cause this is fuckin' pre-planned attempted murder. Real and true," Trike bellowed. Seemed his temper was even shorter than Trey's.

"Let's go talk to the troops, baby," Cutie suggested as the three of us disconnected. "You too Dallas. As Trey's old lady and the club's queen they're gonna expect you to give comfort."

Me?

Wait was this what Reese had meant?

But, I wasn't a queen.

Dee was a hundred times more of a leader than I was, for god's sake.

I was only his girl a fact he damn-well reminded me of every day. But as I turned to the room at large I saw she was right. The men and the Honeys were looking to me to get through them through this. And that thought scared me to death.

"I don't know how," I confessed on a whisper leaning towards Trey's mom so as not to be overheard.

She rubbed my back the same way Trey liked to do and shot me a small one-sided grin. "Guess you're gonna learn then aren't you honey?"

I stuck by her side for the first five or so meet-and-updates before feeling comfortable enough to work the rest of the room. Even more brothers, and whoever they were with, kept streaming in, causing the hospital staff to encourage us to take it outside. I got a lot of comfort from them as well, as I took on hugs and their words of hope. Which, Reese reminded me, is how it works in families. Even biker ones.

A phalanx of police entered and made for the reception desk before coming to find Trike who again had Cutie curled against his side. As I watched it came to me that both Trey and I had grown up with parents that were openly affectionate.

I stepped outside and grabbed my cell to call my parents.

"I'm sorry but I won't be by after work. Trey's been shot," I told my dad who'd answered. I'd kept up the habit of swinging by their place every day after work just to check on them and catch up. Answering his questions to the best of my ability, dad said he'd relay my delay to my mother. Which told me he wouldn't be telling her about Trey knowing it might send her in a tailspin. "Well girl, I guess we'll see you when we see you. Until then you keep yourself and your man safe."

It was one of his typical goodbyes which had just started with the advent of me and Trey living together. A goodbye I'd treasured the first time I'd heard it knowing dad meant it as both a blessing and a benediction.

It was a long-assed night.

After five hours in surgery the doctor had met with Trike, Cutie and me in the visitor's waiting area on the surgical floor.

"Your boy did good, Mr. Jackson. Although we still have septicemia looming due to his perforated bowel, I think he's going to recover," the surgeon said.

"Thank God," Cutie cried before bursting into tears.

I wasn't far behind her and felt myself being pulled into one side of Trike's chest as Cutie held the other.

Our hands met and entwined over Trey's dad's heart.

Four fucking days in the hospital was too much Trey decided. Okay, three of those days had been a blur with all the drugs they'd loaded into his IV, but still. Allegedly, he'd been in ICU for two but that time didn't count because he couldn't fucking remember them. But the latest doings?

Oh, hell to the no.

His ass hurt, which he was goddamn convinced was because of his position due to the heavy cast and traction on his leg that the nurses kept fucking with every time they made an appearance. The angle of which only pulled on the goddamn stitches in his belly.

Dallas had been with him every moment although he remembered some kind of brouhaha that had happened regarding her staying until his dad had stepped in. Yeah, his old man had straightened everything out in his own brusque, ex-biker way. But even his girl was getting on his last nerve though she wasn't doing anything but sitting quiet in the chair next to him. Just holding his hand.

She must've felt his eyes on her because she turned to face him instead of the silent TV hovering in the top corner of his room.

"Need something, sweetie?" she asked.

"To get out of this motherfucking room," he stated, his growl attesting to the amount of patience he had left. Which was none. "I want to go home."

"Yeah, well. They say you have to stay a few more days and your parents are not signing you out. You just have to be patient, Trey."

That was utter bullshit. He wasn't allowed to eat though he was fucking starving and the stitches in both his lower stomach and above his knee under the cast were itching like motherfuckers. Having his leg lifted in such a weird position and immobilized meant he couldn't move and was basically stuck in the same goddamn pose without being able to find a comfortable way to rest.

He didn't even have business, club or otherwise, to keep his mind busy. Calling each member of his council he got basically the same fucked up message of 'everything's good. Under control, brother. You just concentrate on healing'. Fuck that and fuck them!

"But maybe I can make the time more pleasurable," Dallas's soft voice continued. He watched her stand as a small smile spread over her face along with a cute blush. "I bought something I think you might like and I hope will take your mind off the attitude you've got brewing."

Trey felt his eyebrows meet as he tried to imagine what his girl was talking about. Pleasure? He could get down with receiving some pleasure although he was sure his version and Dallas's definition were two completely different things.

She glanced towards the closed door before she lifted her boxy t-shirt to expose a deep red low-cut bra with a front closure. Her beautiful pink nipples were just shadows behind the lace. It was a straight up girlie piece of underwear compared to the bras he'd normally seen her in, those tortuous tubes of spandex and elastic that flattened out her beautiful chest. This new piece was something he never would've thought she'd fucking pick out much less wear.

His eyes devoured the sight as another portion of him both filled and lifted his hospital gown and the sheet that covered him.

"It's not really my style but Reese thought…"

His hand interrupted her speech as it flicked the clasp open, spilling her bountiful breasts into view. She gasped at his quick move, grasping at both sides of the now loose cups. But at his muttered, "don't", she dropped her hands allowing him to take in the full view before him.

Fuck, yeah. Now
that
was what he was talking about.

"I want…" he started, barely able to speak clearly with the need that was pounding throughout him.

"Shh, sweetie. I know what you want." Dallas's voice was as sweet purr as she reached for him her t-shirt remaining tucked underneath her arms and away from her fucking awesome tits. He felt her hands on his neck but instead of one going to his hair as usual he felt her release the tie of his hospital gown before she stripped it down to his waist.

Leaning up on her tiptoes, she dragged and stroked her firm, hard nipples over his pecs. All the while watching his face as he followed her every movement.

"It this what you need, Trey?"

All speech left him and he felt like he could barely fucking breathe as the heart monitor became almost a monotone with its increased beeping.

She snaked a hand underneath the sheet as her sexy fucking mouth hit his. Even before she'd worked out to go underneath the cotton johnny he wore, his hips were thrusting up in anticipation. His action pulled at his stitches and had his leg bouncing but he absolutely didn't give a fuck.

And when her hot palm finally, fucking finally, hit his steel-like hard on?

Goddamn heaven and so fucking satisfying that he groaned long and loud.