A Civilian for Silo

A Civilian for Silo – A Hellion MC Novel

By

J. A. Hornbuckle

*.*.*.*.*

Published by J.A. Hornbuckle for Smashwords

*.*.*.*.*

Copyright © 2014 by J.A. Hornbuckle

Edited by: Laura Kingsley

Cover Design by: Brandi Doane McCann

License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this novel with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please buy an additional copy for each recipient.

No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information story and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of J.A. Hornbuckle or her authorized representatives.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction and is not a reflection or representation of any person living or dead. Any similarity is of pure coincidence.

Although, if you recognize yourself in any character represented, maybe we need to talk…

EPub Edition October 2014

ISBN: 9780991239177

Chapter One

Why aren’t you married, Si’? the sweet voice of the girl lying next to him asked softly, not even panting after their bedtime frolic. Which fucking meant that it hadn’t been his imagination and he really had done all the fucking work.

He shifted on the bed, moving the sheet up to his chest before running a hand over his bald head. Ain’t never been fucking asked, I guess. He smiled at his own joke. The joke being as if any girl would ever ask him.

You don’t even have a steady Honey. She rolled to her side of the mattress and sat up, reaching for her clothes that were still in a pile on the floor.

Propping an arm under his head, Silo watched as she slid her tiny t-shirt on. Yeah…and?

She twisted to look at him over her shoulder. I don’t know. It just seems like all of you on the council have found your other half. She reached for her panties and stood to put them on. All, except you and Bishop.

Silo picked up his phone and checked the time. Seeing it was still in the wee hours of the morning, he wiggled further down in the sheets, knowing he could squeeze in a few fucking hours of shut-eye before getting ready for work. And since the room he was in, the one behind the Hellion Motorcycle clubhouse, was only across the driveway from where his office was located, the commute was gonna be short and sweet.

Well? the Honey asked before pulling on the short shorts that gripped her pert ass, showcasing her legs to perfection and had given Silo the incentive and interest to ask her to bed.

He yawned before replying. Well, what?

How come you aren’t a part of a couple?

Turning his head to look at the woman, he shrugged his answer.

The girl made a pout. Don’t you want to be with someone?

I was just with you, Sukie. Ain’t that goddamn good enough? Sometimes, Silo wished whichever girl he took for the evening would just fucking shut it afterwards, but it seemed as if they all wanted to talk after playtime. And all he wanted to do was sleep.

Strapping on her towering heels, she looked down at him with a small, sad smile. You’re going to sleep here again?

Lots of fucking questions, girl, for the middle of the fucking night.

Why don’t you ever go home anymore? Carmi said you don’t ever seem to go back to your place. That you’re here at the complex 24/7 and… the woman’s voice wound down at the scowl that had crept across Silo’s face at her words. I didn’t mean to make you mad, Si’, it’s just that we’re worried.

We?

You know. The Honeys, she explained, waving her hand back towards the vicinity of the main part of the clubhouse.

The Honeys are talking about where I fucking choose to sleep? While he loved that the female portion of the motorcycle club took care of the Hellion brothers, sometimes their concern went a little too far in his opinion. Bordering on being nosy bitches. Need you to back the fuck off, Sook.

It was the girl’s turn to shrug as she planted a knee on the mattress and leaned into him to give a short kiss. Sleep wherever you want, sweetie. We’re just worried is all.

His eyes zeroed in on the jiggling of her sweet ass as she let herself out of the room, making a point of setting the inside door look before closing it softly. But his mind was on what she’d said.

It was true, he admitted to himself before rolling over and turning off the bedside lamp, pulling the sheet up higher on his shoulder. He and Bishop were the only unattached Hellions on council, a fact he threw in the face of the other four biker brothers frequently. ‘Footloose and fancy free’, he’d crow in derision when each of them started ending their after-work drinking sessions early in order to get home to their girls.

And as for staying at the compound instead of going back to his house? Fuck, what was there to go home to now that his grandpa had passed? No one there and nothing to do. No, he’d rather stay at the compound raising hell with the brothers, drinking and laughing until he had a mind for a little bed action and then grabbing whatever Honey caught his fancy for the evening.

He’d like to say he enjoyed the goddamn variety, of having a different girl every fucking night but he knew it wasn’t true. That a small part of him deep inside would be over-fucking-joyed to have a woman that was just his, that wouldn’t fucking leave when the deed was done. Someone just for him.

His mind ran over the roster of the current group of Honeys but none of them struck him as being his ‘forever’ girl. Most of them liked the variety too and made no bones about it. And the few that might be interested in something more long term were not fucking interested in him in that way. Yeah, they’d give it up if he asked but they never sought him out, never came to him first.

Silo turned his pillow to the cool side and wiggled back down into the covers with a snort.

Let go of the emo shit, dude, he whispered to himself, smiling at using one of Dare’s favorite expressions.

He closed his eyes, knowing the next day was Monday. Which meant there’d be a manager meeting which usually ended with a Hellion council meeting. And with Trey’s idea of establishing a new chapter in Billings, there would lots on the agenda to keep his goddamn brain engaged and away from the pondering of couples.

And why he wasn’t a part of one.

*.*.*.*.*

Trey? Sorry to disturb the council meeting but Silo has an emergency call on line 1. Lulu’s normally dulcet voice sounded brassy over the intercom of the phone in the middle of the conference table.

Emergency call? Silo’s forehead creased as he caught the confused looks of the elite group of Hellions seated around him. Who the fuck is it, princess?

Since he had no living family and didn’t know of anyone other than the brothers he was currently sitting with who would claim him as an emergency contact, he just figured the phone call was a joke of the ‘unfunny’ variety.

But it had to be important if Lulu would go against Trey’s edict of no calls during their weekly meetings. He glanced at the large man at the head of the table who appeared as annoyed as expected by the interruption.

He says his name is Sheriff Sharpels. From someplace in New Mexico, she replied and he could hear the ringing of the main line behind her voice. Says it’s about your sister. I didn’t know you had a sister, Si!

I ain’t got no… Wait a fuckin’ second. Sister? Why did that word cause the hair on the back of his neck to stand up and take notice?

Well it would’ve, if he didn’t shave his entire head. He glanced again at Trey, looking for approval and saw the other man’s wide shoulders shrug. Before Silo was even up and out of his chair in order to take the call in his office, Bishop rushed by him with a muttered, ’Scuse.

As his long legs quickly took him down the hall, he let his mind roam on the word ‘sister’ and remembered wrapping himself around someone much shorter, warm and smelling sweet as their lips met.

‘I will, Si. I promise. If there’s trouble, I’ll call and tell them I’m your sister.’

As soon as his mind brought up the memory, the full recollection came to him. Of him and Shelly Palmer, Lulu’s sister, saying good-bye in the morning sunlight of the dining room of Hardwood’s house. Sharing a kiss and a hug after one of the best nights of his life, with a woman he could’ve only dreamed of being with as a Hellion biker.

Class, style and a sharp sarcastic sense of humor that had them laughing as much as they’d played over the course of the few hours they’d spent together.

But there’d been problems.

Shelly’s sister had caught her father red-handed trying to launder dirty money through his Albuquerque investment firm. She’d ran to Montana, taken a job at Hellion Construction in order to hide from both her dad and her ex-fiancé but had been found. And both of them had wanted her back in order to ensure she didn’t sound the alarm about their activities.

Shelly, though, had been convinced that she could work the paperwork to extradite both her and Lulu from the mess their father had eventually been caught in. And by untangling their assets keep, all their father’s charges from bleeding down onto them.

But Silo had known better.

Men that played the way Daddy Palmer did were notorious for getting even their children unknowingly involved in their stupid shit in one way or another, and Silo had made Shelly promise to contact him if she ever needed his help. Up to and including making her memorize the Hellion Construction main number.

‘But we can’t tell Lu, Si. If I’m in that much trouble that I need you, we can’t let Lulu know.’

‘Then when you fuckin’ call, tell ‘em you’re my sister. Since I don’t goddamn have one, that’ll be the fucking code word to get me to you, yeah? And I’ll be there as fast as I fucking can.’ He remembered her nodding, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing over her shoulders. Even as a memory, those curls caused his heart to do a double-thump.

‘Yeah. I will, Si. I promise. If there’s trouble, I’ll call and tell them I’m your sister.’

He reached past all the crap on his desk for his phone, idly noting the tremble in his hand as he did so. Silo Kettering, he growled into the receiver and felt his balls pull up towards his trunk as he finally recognized the fear moving within him at what might be doing with Shelly.

Kettering? This here’s Bernalillo County Deputy Sheriff Micah Sharpels. The other voice, a tenor, already grated on Silo’s nerves at only the man’s greeting. We’ve found a girl…well, a woman, actually. Found her wandering, more like hobbling along one of the county firebreak roads.

The other man stopped on a coughing fit and Silo heard the sound of the man hawking up a ball of phlegm before continuing.

Just limping along that old back road in some kind of mangled ball gown and pert near coughing up a lung. We ain’t never seen the like. Only info she could get out was that she was your sis and gave us your number.

Where? Silo knew he roared the one word but his voice was naturally loud in the best of circumstances. At that moment in time, though, his volume had increased by tenfold.

Out there by Oso Springs, east of Albuquerque. She’s…

How do I get there from Montana? Silo could hear Lulu’s high heels rushing towards his office, and he tried to lower his voice in order not to have the rest of the managers storming to his part of the building.

Uhm. Dunno. But if I were you, I’d just make my way to Albuquerque, came the lazy voice on the phone. A voice that Silo was quickly coming to hate.

Where is she? Where exactly is…my sister? He glanced down at the hand he had on the desk and saw it was fisted so tight his knuckles were white.

Now? Uhm. At first we took her to one of them urgent care places but they’ve since transferred her to Presbyterian Hospital in Albuquerque proper…

Since? What the fuck does that mean? How long has it been since you’ve found her? Brand, his Hellion brother, co-council member and whose office was next to his, stood next to Lulu, taking up most of the space in the doorway.

Only a couple hours shy of a day. You don’t have to worry, Kettering. We’re treating your sister real good but she didn’t have no ID on her or nothing so we waited to contact you until we had no other option. Silo knew exactly what the other man was saying.

Fuckers!

Silo’s brain caught on one word but wanted clarification. "What the fuck do you mean ‘treating’?

Well now, she had a couple of problems when we first picked her up. No bleeding or nothing. But sick enough we took her to urgent care. But they had her transported to Presbyterian Hospital.

Shelly was in a fucking hospital in Albuquerque?

I’ll be there no later than tomorrow! Silo’s voice had dropped to almost a primal growl as he tried to process all the man had said. Silo slammed the receiver back into its cradle and covered his face with his hands.

Christ!

Fucking Christ!

Silo? Brand called, and Silo knew the man remained just at the entrance to his office in order to give Silo the space needed to pull himself together.

Gotta go see Trey, Silo rumbled from beneath the palms he had pressed against his lips and cheeks.

Understood. If I can assist…

You can’t. Appreciate your help, but I gotta go, Silo found himself saying baldly and in a deadpanned voice. Thanks, though. He pushed himself up and out of his chair, feeling a weakness in his knees at what he had to do in order to get to her. To get to his Shell, the name he’d christened her with in their one night together so many months ago.

Brand and Lulu stepped aside as he barreled out of his office and practically sprinted down the hall to where Trey held court, only to see his boss was on his cellphone as the other council brothers talked among themselves.

Even Bishop was back, albeit looking green around the gills, as if he’d tied one on the night before.

Closing the door behind him but not taking his seat, Silo shifted his weight from side to side, anxious to get the next part over and done with. He couldn’t get to her until he’d told Trey and the other members that he had to leave.

Shit, Si. Impatient much? Trey grumbled, setting his cellphone on the large table.

Actually, yeah, Si boomed on a scowl. He didn’t need any shit from anyone at the moment, but he knew he needed to be respectful about it. I’m taking off. Have some personal shit doing that can’t wait.

Trey’s brown eyes narrowed as he stroked his goatee while carefully studying Silo’s face. How long you gonna be gone, amigo?

Dunno. Silo let his gaze drift at the other members as he tried to think it through but until he got to her, he didn’t have a goddamn clue when he’d be back at work. As long as it fucking takes, I guess.

And this absolutely goddamn needs to be handled right the fuck now? Christ, Si! You know we’re behind on the Johnston Ranch job and over-budget on the Kearney Hills one…plus with Billings…

Can’t be helped, man. Silo ran a hand over his smooth skull. He knew he was putting Hellion Construction in a fix since he was the one that held the reins on the plumbing side for their jobs in Montana. But he needed to fucking go! Get Hardwood or Dice to cover the shit on my desk. And I’ll keep you up to date. But I’m fuckin’ going, Trey. I just gotta go, man.

Trey’s eyes were on him as if weighing his options and Silo chaffed under the steady perusal. All the other members were watching Trey silently. Seconds ticked by, precious seconds that Silo was sure were gonna cost him in getting to Shelly as soon as fucking possible.

You doing this alone or can the Hellions help? Silo should’ve anticipated Brand’s question, since he knew that anything that affected a brother, affected the whole club. But he also knew that, at least for the moment, it was up to him and only him to see to Shelly.

Just me, man. If I...if things go tits-up, I call for backup, he assured the other men, trying to make his voice sound convincing even though he didn’t have enough info to support his words. But he’d spoken true. If things were too much for him to handle, Silo would have no problem involving his club in making sure Shelly was safe.

I can give you two weeks to get your shit sorted, Trey rumbled. Any longer and there’ll be hell to pay. You get me?

Even though Silo hadn’t been looking for approval, receiving it took a load off his mind. He nodded at the large man behind the table and gave each man one as well before turning and stepping into the hall.

Si? Glancing back over his shoulder, Silo saw all of the others were now standing even though Trey was the only one speaking. Good luck, amigo. I hope everything works out.

Silo did a finger-flick in response before racing out of the building and to his ride.

Chapter Two

…seems to be breathing fine on her own now. We’ve done as much as we can but with her refusing to talk about what happened to her... The voices were out in the hallway, just loud enough to carry into my room and wake me up.

My throat still hurt from them removing the ventilation tube that the nurse had said kept me alive until my lungs cleared enough for me to take in air without help. I was glad I only had the vaguest memory of feeling my chest inflate and deflate as the machine clicked and whooshed from somewhere beside me. Without its mechanical measured cadence, I could finally hear the other machines that I was connected to: the soft bleep of the heart monitor, the ticks and scrapes of another that spat out paper with jagged lines although I didn’t know what it was recording.

My eyes flipped up to the IV I was tethered to, seeing the steady drip of fluid as it fell into the tube that had been inserted into my arm.

From my vantage point, that appendage didn’t look like mine. Not with all the scrapes and bruises. Not without my rings and Cartier watch. With effort, I raised my head and let my eyes roam down over the bedclothes. There wasn’t much to see, being covered as I was. But I as I shifted, I could feel even further bruises and bandages that covered a myriad of cuts. Was it my imagination or did I appear thinner somehow? Which was weird because my body felt heavy and ponderous.

There was another voice, deeper and rumbly, coming from out in the hall, but I couldn’t make out the words. By the way it rose at the end, I could tell a question had been asked.

No, the latest tests shows her lungs are healing and the pneumonia is under control. But her dislocated ankle…

I dropped my head to the pillow and blinked up at the ceiling. The words had brought a hazy memory of me running in terror, sliding over rocks until my foot had been caught between them. When I’d used both hands to try and free it, I remembered the sound my ankle had made and the flare of pain so sharp and deep, I’d almost passed out. I felt the sharp tingle of sweat as it gathered at my hairline, armpits and groin—an almost instinctive reaction to the fuzzy mental image and the echoes of my abject fear.

My stomach roiled at the memory and I knew I was going to throw up again. Twisting, I pulled myself up onto an elbow and tried to point my chin over the side of the bed. But even though I coughed and gagged, nothing came up. Probably because there wasn’t anything to come up.

The flurry of squeaks and thuds let me know that whoever had been in the hall was now inside the room but I didn’t turn my head. From where I was propped I could see the bag of urine hanging from one of the lower bedside hooks.

She still has bouts of severe nausea and vomiting and until we get that under control, we can’t release her. I recognized the voice as Dr. Flynn, one of the nicer doctors I’d had fluttering around me since the ventilator had been removed.

What if we used one of them medical flight things to get her back to Missoula? The question had been asked by a voice that sounded as deep as the growl of motorcycle pipes. A voice I knew and had memorized in a very short span of time almost a year ago, if I believed the date the nurse had given me when I’d first awakened was true.

I don’t see a problem with that, but it’s costly, Dr. Flynn answered as he moved around the corner of my bed. Miss Kettering? How are you feeling?

At his voice and the use of the name the hospital staff had been calling me, my mind released the image of trying to give out the only emergency information it had in memory.

Silo.

Silo had come.

The knowledge that he was there, finally there to save me from all the bad I’d been through, made me dizzy and I lost my grip on the side rail flopping back down onto the mattress. I felt hands, gentle and strong, turning me over onto my back even as they scooted me higher on the mattress. My eyes were whipping around the room, frantically searching for a glimpse of him.

Si? My voice was only a whispery croak comprised of more breath than sound.

Right here, Shell. And as his face came into view directly above me while the doctor stepped back, I felt the tears start. Felt the first couple of trickles roll down my cheeks before the dam behind my eyes opened fully, obscuring my view of his beautiful face.

At that moment, I didn’t care if he was just a biker and that he had been my one and only walk on the wild side. Nor did I care that he wasn’t a part of the social strata I inhabited. Or had until my dad’s actions had destroyed even that, making me a pariah in our social circles.

No.

Silo, my one and only one-night stand from ten months before, gathered me close into his chest and held me, wires, tubes and all. And continued to hold me tight against his chest until the familiar blackness claimed me once again.

*.*.*.*.*

He’d had to school his features when he’d first seen her even though it was from behind. But even from the back, he’d been shocked by her appearance.

Although the doctor had tried to warn him. Had given Silo the 4-1-1 on what they’d found out about her through visual exams and all the different tests they’d performed—which was all they could do since Shelly refused to talk about what had put her there in the first place. The last he’d heard from Lulu, Shelly had been doing good in Albuquerque. Getting on with her life and all that.

Common sense and his own fucking eyes told Silo that it had been an out and out lie.

At the sight of her hunched over the far side of the bed with the gown gaping from shoulder-blades to ass-crack, he was shocked at how she appeared. With all the visual bruises and welts, it almost looked as if she’d been beaten and then rolled down a thorny fucking hill or some such.

But it was when he’d turned her onto her back, seeing the cuts, scratches and bruises on her face, the cracked lips and her dull, dark circled eyes that he’d began to lose his control. Fury had roared through him as fast as a flash fire but died out just as quickly when he’d seen her tears. The doctor had said that she wouldn’t talk and hadn’t shown any curiosity, concern or emotion for her current circumstances.

She sure as shit was showing it now, he thought as he did the only thing he knew to do in that moment. Which was to hold her and let her lose her shit in peace. To grip her tight with one shaking hand as his other roamed lightly over the damaged skin of her back.

Fuck! Even her hair, whose color and shiny curls had first captured his attention, was now a dull, nappy ball of fuzz. What the fuck had happened to get her to that state?

Shelly’s crying didn’t really last all that long but Silo’s t-shirt was thoroughly soaked by the time he eased her limp body back against the pillows.

Her body is depleted, Dr. Flynn advised kindly. She won’t have any kind of stamina for a while, even for extreme emotions.

You mean her crying made her pass out? Silo had never heard of such a thing.

Not a faint, I don’t think. She appears to be sleeping. The doctor lifted Shelly’s eyelids and whisked a small flashlight over them. Yes, just sleeping. We’ve been keeping her sedated to allow her lungs and ribs to heal.

Silo shifted his position, not realizing or caring he’d gone into his take-charge pose of arms crossed on chest and feet planted wide. Want that med-flight thing arranged as soon as fucking possible. I’ll be traveling with her.

Like I advised earlier, it will be costly, the doctor murmured, eyes wide behind his glasses. And we aren’t allowed to release her until we have some assurance that her medical bills will be paid.

Silo reached into his back pocket for his wallet. The chain that ran from the worn leather and secured it to his jeans clinked at his movement. Use this card to pay the goddamn bill and this one for the plane.

I don’t think you understand, Mr. Kettering, the doctor stuttered, but reached for the small rectangles of plastic anyway. Both bills will run in the thousands…

Don’t give a fuck. Have limits on both in the thousands. He turned to the smaller man, not aware of the deep scowl his face held at the doctor’s disbelief that Silo could afford to take care of his girl. You gonna stand there with your goddamn mouth open or are you gonna get to it?

The doctor nodded, his eyes on the small plastic rectangles in his hands.

I’ll want a fucking copy of the bill before I sign the receipt in order to review the goddamn charges, Silo barked. He was no longer using his ‘indoor voice’ and saw the doc jump at both his volume and probably his tone. Since this is an AS-fucking-AP sitch, need you to make that happen. Standing here with your mouth open is not the way to do it.

Sitch? Dr. Flynn questioned with a frown.

Situation, Silo explained turning back to the broken girl on the bed. Neither he nor the doctor moved or spoke for a few moments. Not until Silo glanced at him over his shoulder. What part of haul ass didn’t you get?

"As soon as the paperwork in printed, I’ll have