Bastard in It
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About this ebook
Rags to riches, this is one passion-fueled ride ... are you ready?
Red
Raised the son of a Hellion, born with the blood of a villain, I wear my patch with pride—earned never given.
Frank “Tank” Oleander gave me his name, his club, and his respect. I earned my cut, my place, and even this ride as a bastard child.
I am Kenneth “Red” Oleander.
I find comfort in chasing skirts, raising hell, and the open road.
Kylee
I was born to the struggle.
Life is my hustle.
I am Kylee May Grayson.
I know hard knocks, trouble, and defeat.
Fate lands her in his world, she’s got one choice—keep fighting or learn to enjoy the ride.
Chelsea Camaron
USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author Chelsea Camaron is a small town Carolina girl with a big imagination. She’s a wife and mom, chasing her dreams. She writes contemporary romance, erotic suspense, and psychological thrillers. She loves to write about blue-collar men who have real problems with a fictional twist. From mechanics to bikers to oil riggers to smokejumpers, bar owners, and beyond she loves a strong hero who works hard and plays harder.
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Bastard in It - Chelsea Camaron
PROLOGUE
KENNETH
Bastard in It
The Tail of the Dragon, Deals Gap, North Carolina.
The ride for life is love, loyalty, and respect. This is how I ride, because this is the legacy. This is how the Hellions ride.
I am my mother’s son.
In my mind I repeat the mantra over and over, I am my mother’s son.
Shake off the thoughts plaguing me and stay in the moment, mentally, I coach myself.
I am the enemy as much as the trusted soldier. I am both friend and foe, brother and betrayer. To question my family, to question my beginning, is a betrayal all its own. Even if no one ever knows what goes on in my head, I know it and it goes against everything I’ve been raised to be.
As I stand in front of the mirror, I pull my SIG nine mil from its resting place in my shoulder holster. This piece is the first gun I ever purchased on my own. It wasn’t given to me by my father or grandfather or another Hellion. This is all mine.
Lifting the gun, I let the weight of the metal settle in my hand. It brings me no comfort only an end to the lies.
I don’t know the man in the reflection in front of me.
I thought I did.
I thought I knew everything.
But like so much in my life, I was wrong; so very wrong about who I am, where I come from, and even where I’m headed.
Twenty-six hours ago, it all changed.
I look around me. The hotel room is small. Not that I give a shit. It’s nothing fancy, but more of a room with a bed and a bathroom to handle the essentials. Normally, I would be bunked up with BW, not today though. Nope today is everything.
Today is the day I have waited for my entire fucking life.
At least that’s what I thought… until twenty-six hours ago.
Everything changed in the blink of an eye.
Everything I thought I knew now is up in the air. All from one stupid call. My entire existence, from the beginning until the very last breath I take, it will all be forever marked by one lie after another. That is according to the man on the other end of the phone call.
Could it be true? Could it all be a way to lure me away from my family?
I’m twisted inside. For the first time, I want nothing more than to cease to exist. I want to be dust, dirt, or a gentle breeze in the air.
Who am I if I’m not Kenneth Red
Oleander? Who am I if I don’t have Tank’s blood in my veins? How can I carry the name of a man who isn’t shit to me?
I am my mother’s son.
He told me that was true.
Her bastard child, though, not a Hellion through and through like I have been raised to believe.
The man on the phone was right about so much of my history. He also said a great deal on how my mother and the man I thought was my father came to be. What he said about her, about us, was also true. I just never knew it until now.
She and I, we were a package deal. For of her flesh I came to be.
Tank claimed my mom, and me with her. It wasn’t about me. It wasn’t for me, love for me, dedication to me.
It was for her.
It was all for her because he loved her. Me, I was a seed inside her womb, I was just part of what came with claiming her.
In the blink of an eye my entire existence is different. I have no validation. I have nothing but questions that I’m not sure I can handle the answer to.
Does Tank really know the truth?
The stranger on the phone line swore to it all.
According to him, just that call was his death sentence, but he wanted me to know everything. No matter the cost to him. To him, I was everything, but he was too young, too blind, and too stubborn to see it. Now, though, what changed?
What is true? What is a lie? Where is my reality? Black, white, there is nothing inside me but shades of gray shadowing everything.
The enemy is beneath my skin.
It’s in my very thoughts. It’s in my every doubt. This is now more than the blood in my veins.
I’ve lost my way.
I’ve lost my footing.
I’m falling hard, fast, and sinking down the rabbit hole of darkness where the light ceases to exist. Who am I, if what he said is true?
And yet, no one knows that I know a single fucking thing about anything. No one knows I question the very name I carry. No one knows he told me who he is to me. He told me everything.
It’s ugly.
What he did is disgusting. Who he is, enrages me.
Why did I answer that call? Why did I listen to the man on the other end? Why did I let myself get in this deep?
I have tried to repress the information. I keep trying to take my mind back to what’s ahead.
I worked too hard and waited too long for this. I won’t change my plans now. I can’t. I won’t turn my back on my club even if I feel the sting of betrayal down to my very soul.
Lifting the weapon, I put the barrel under my chin. I have been and I will continue to be her reminder as long as I live. I will be the link that ties him and his filth to her. Every breath I take is one where the villain wins. There is only one way out.
I blink.
I pause.
The fog of my mixed emotions lifts.
If I end it all I betray my club too. How can I do that after everything I’ve done to make it this far?
Today I become a Hellion, fully patched, and every single job, task, detail that has been entrusted to me becomes a solid piece of my makeup. How can I pull the trigger after the club has given me everything?
This is about me and only me, not any of the bullshit that man spewed on the other end of the phone. I worked my ass off for this ride. I earned every second of today.
The end goal is here, my prize ready for the taking.
One ride to finish.
One ride to have my cut.
Mine.
The Tail of the Dragon, Deals Gap, North Carolina. This rite-of-passage for every patched brother in the Hellions Motorcycle Club is what we all wait for when we prospect and do the bitch jobs we loathe. I have paid my dues, earned my rockers, and today my journey is complete. No longer am I the prospect. No, today my blood, my biology doesn’t matter, my name, none of it. Today, I become a brother.
The truth about who I am doesn’t matter because in this club, family isn’t blood.
With the realization that I have a family of my own making, regardless of the past, regardless of whose DNA I have, I put the weapon back in its place. It’s heavy in the holster as I take a deep breath.
Fuck him and fuck the truth.
Today is about the Tail of the Dragon.
It’s not my mother’s history. It’s not my father’s blood. It’s not a damn thing outside of me and my club, my place in the brotherhood.
Today is for the Hellions.
Today is for me, my bike, and this one ride.
Over three-hundred curves in an eleven-mile stretch that carries across the North Carolina-Tennessee state line. A hidden gem of the mountains. A ride to make men out of boys. A ride to solidify my place in the club.
A ride where I claim the final patch.
Claim… like Tank claimed my mom and therefore claimed me. If only washing away my true identity had been so easy.
Nick Taggart called and changed everything I have known for twenty-one years. He took from my mother and according to him, the Hellions took me from him. Was I truly some pawn in a game I didn’t know about?
I’ve spent every waking moment dreaming of the day I had a full patch.
Except now it’s here and I can’t help but wonder if this is where I belong?
I know I want my cut. I want the brotherhood, the family. This is the life I’ve always envisioned and its literally moments away from beginning. Except if I’m not who I’ve been told I am does that change my place in this club?
Everything I ever thought about my life has been upturned in the blink of an eye.
I don’t even know if what Nick Taggart told me is true. I know some parts line up with things I’ve overheard over the years, but is he really giving me the truth?
I fight to shake off the negative feelings. I fight to shake off the betrayal I feel.
I look in the mirror.
I look for something to remind me of who I am.
Deep into my reflection, I seek to find where I really begin and wonder if the lies ever end? What is real?
Focus, I mentally slap myself. Keep shit in perspective.
I am my mother’s son. It’s the reminder I do belong here. It doesn’t matter who my father is, my mother was born to this life, she gave me this piece of her. This is the one piece he couldn’t take from me with his dump of information. He took from her everything he could, but he couldn’t take the Hellions away.
I give my attention to the freckles that cross my nose, the ginger tint to my buzzed hair. The way my jawline is perfectly straight under my thin beard and my nose has a curve to the end like her.
Savannah Sass
Perchton, daughter to Rhett Danza
Perchton, Hellions Original, I look like her.
I act like her.
I am so very much a part of her.
I am my grandfather’s first grandson. He always tells me, "Red, you’re the first boy I held in my arms with my blood running through those veins. I was given a girl to raise full of sass and sweet. You’re my first boy. You’re my legacy." Yeah, my mom gave him three more grandsons after me, but I have always been the most special, as my grandmother would say, because I am the first born.
This is where I belong. I am my grandfather’s legacy in a club he built.
The blood coursing through my veins doesn’t matter.
I’m a Perchton even if I’m not really Frank Tank
Oleander’s son. I still have Hellions blood in my body.
Not being Tank’s son, I can’t process the thought. Try as I might, the words don’t sink in. I know what Taggart told me. I know parts of his story align with the history my mom and Tank share. Tank has never treated me any different than any of my younger brothers, though. How can he not be my dad? He taught me to tie my shoes, to ride my bike, to change the oil in my car. He taught me what it is to be a man. Now, I’m supposed to believe he’s not my dad. No one has ever treated me like I wasn’t Tank’s first-born son. No one.
I have this family in my soul.
Except, even I don’t buy the lines of bullshit I’m trying to feed myself right now. I shouldn’t be so conflicted. I shouldn’t have doubt.
In one call, Nick Taggart single-handedly rocked my very belief in myself.
I twist up inside. Knotted so tight I want to puke, but more so I want to beat the shit out of something, someone. There is too much bottled up inside me.
Push it all down. I have to fight to keep going.
Don’t let him have the power. The man is full of shit. He has to be. There is no way they wouldn’t have told me. There is no way everyone I call family would hide this from me, right?
The Hellions are family. They wouldn’t keep me in the dark. If they did there had to be a reason for it. The darkness is clouding my mind again, threatening to swallow me whole. I fight back the negative. I fight back the doubts.
I study the flecks of gold in my green eyes, did they come from him?
They aren’t my mother’s, the lines of gold that is. Were they his?
I’ll never know.
Because I won’t ever seek him out. There is nothing about Nick Taggart that I want to learn.
He found me. He took his chance. He wanted me to know. He said he risked his life to tell me. I gave him the three minutes he requested. Then I hung the phone up and took off on my bike. I don’t owe him or any other son-of-a-bitch one motherfucking thing.
Forget it.
That’s what I plan to do.
I stand behind the life I know.
I stand behind the full cut that today I get.
In the end, if it comes down to the truth versus the Hellions… the Hellions will always win.
Reaching to the small table beside me, I toss back the whiskey shot. Normally, I wouldn’t dare drink and ride, but today, the emotions are too much. The confusion has my mind at war.
Fighting back my anger, I think about the leather cut that I’ve worked so hard for.
Every patch is earned.
Never fucking given.
Today, I’ll take my place in the club I was born to.
Yes, I was born into this… I let the word twist inside my head like a raging tornado.
Born to it.
I was.
No matter who Nick Taggart really is to me.
It can’t all be a lie. No one knows that I have been given the truth.
His truth.
My truth.
Her truth.
It cycles out of control.
I’m spiraling, and the only life preserver I can hold onto is my cut.
The selfish bastard I am won’t turn the other way. Though, knowing what I know now, I should probably drive the other way.
I shouldn’t go through with this not until I sort out the facts.
I’m not who they say I am.
A thought hits me, I am the man I choose to be.
And, I choose to be a Hellion.
Fuck the shit he’s put in my head.
In time, I will have to find understanding in the lies. In time, I will have to confront what I now know. In time, I will have to face who I was truly born to become.
Until then, it’s time to ride.
We line up. BW and I take our place in the back like we have more than a thousand rides before. There isn’t a single memory that I have where Blaine BW
Crews wasn’t at my side, always taking my back.
I want to tell him.
I want him to know what I’ve learned.
But today isn’t about any of that so, like every other emotion today, I fight it back. I push it all down.
This time as we settle in to our spots, two-by-two, the brothers of all the charters move. It looks like a parting of the sea of bikes. We move our way up the rows where we finally make it to the front. It’s crazy to be a part of this because this isn’t common.
Talon Tripp
Crews, BW’s dad and overall Hellions President sits on his bike with my dad, Frank Tank
Oleander proudly to his left. Dad, the word still rolls around in my head. Does he know? What did he agree to? If I believe Nick Taggart, then Frank Tank
Oleander not only knew Nick was my father, but he sent him away. I can’t think about this.
Not right now.
Today is for me and no one is going to take this from me, dammit.
Every ride the club takes Tripp leads with Tank at his right side. If it’s a ride we haven’t done previously, then the Road Chief will lead because it’s his job to predetermine our course and any possible detours, but that rarely happens. It never happens on the Tail of the Dragon.
On any given ride, the officers fall in first behind them with a fading of the patched members all the way to the back where the prospects fall in at the rear.
Since all the charters are here, including the Catawba chapter, Drexel Rex
Crews, their President, and Andy Shooter
Jenkins, their VP, are staged to be behind our fathers. BW and I grew up knowing every single chapter and every single member. No one here is a stranger today. We’re a family. We all ride as one-unit, charter doesn’t matter today, we ride together, unity. We are the Hellions MC.
BW and I roll to a stop in front of our fathers.
Everyone drops their kickstands and climbs off their steel horses. Tank wraps his arms around my mother as his eyes lock onto mine.
Pride.
Unconditional love.
He is the doting dad today.
Just like every other day of my life.
That’s what really makes this burn so bad. Tank is a damn good dad. The best actually. There isn’t a game he ever missed. There isn’t a moment, milestone, memory—good or bad—where he wasn’t right by my side. If what the man on the phone said was true, well, Tank is a master of his emotions because I believed every second of my life, I was his son, not some bastard child in the club.
Tripp and Tank reach into their saddlebags. I have a pain in my gut as he lifts my cut high in the air.
Tripp speaks first to BW, Typically, this waits at the end of the ride, but you boys have busted ass and taken your shit. I’m honored to have you take this ride as my son and as my brother. The vote was unanimous. You’ve done your time, paid your dues. I couldn’t be prouder of the man you’ve grown into. Blaine Ward Crews, today you ride with this cut. You’re not just my son, BW, you’re now my equal. My brother, it’s time we take your ride.
He tosses the leather to BW as Tank steps closer to me.
From the moment your mom told me she was pregnant, I waited for this day, Red. Two lines on a pregnancy test, she told me, I remember it like yesterday, son. Two lines were the road before us. Much like today, two lines always take you where you were meant to be. Some roads are bumpy, some full of curves, but there isn’t a damn thing you can’t ride through in life because of the man you are today. I believe in you.
His eyes glaze over in tears and I wonder for a moment if he’s going to let one fall. He doesn’t, and I fight with my own emotions.
Anger.
Pride.
Love.
Betrayal.
Happiness.
Bitterness.
Accomplishment.
Before you were born,
he continues. I committed my life to you and your mom. I never thought there would come a day where I was filled with more pride than the day they laid your screaming, naked ass in my arms, but today, Kenneth, today I am truly humbled and honored to take this ride with you. The man you were destined to become, and the man I trust with everything. Let’s ride, brother.
I take in the moment. The way the air has a slight breeze to it. The way my mother beams with happiness. The way Tank looks at me as if I am his world. It’s the way I would imagine a father would look at a son. I twist inside with the knowledge I hold.
This isn’t the time or the place.
I don’t know that he isn’t my father. I don’t know that what the man said held an ounce of truth. I fight myself not to tarnish the memory of what today means to me.
He tosses me the cut. The leather is heavy in my hands as I slide it on. The way it settles on my shoulders comforts me.
I earned this shit.
My place.
My position.
I worked for it.
Sweated for it.
Bled for it.
I am meant to wear this cut.
I am destined to take this ride.
I am none other than a brother in the Hellions MC … blood in my veins be damned.
Bastard, I may be, be fucking damned.
ONE
KYLEE
Life will always burn you, it’s how you handle the ashes that defines you. Like a phoenix, I will always rise!
Five Years Later
The humidity here is not something I think I will ever get used to. It’s six in the morning and already I have boob sweat. Then again, sleeping in my car, locked up without it running probably didn’t help. What else can I do? Life keeps knocking me down. I get up every day and try, try again, no matter the stifling heat mother nature continues to deliver, I still work my ass off. No matter the shit life has taken from me, I still wake up