Page 17 of Hot as Hell (Royal Bastards MC, Montreal, Canada #2)

Chapter Fifteen

Their first stop was at the condo and they found nothing out of place.

Hemlock’s work truck for the detailing business was in the drive, but his bike wasn’t.

Which didn’t surprise Truck. Hemlock rarely didn’t ride his bike.

Knowing the kid would come home sooner than later, Truck took Charlie back to his place so she could pick up Hemlock’s car.

But by the next day, neither of them had heard from him and Truck was beginning to get worried.

It wasn’t like Hemlock to stay gone. Not over a girl.

Picking up the phone he called the hospital and asked to speak with nurse Durand.

When they said he wasn’t at work that was the first red flag for Truck.

His second call was to Razor at the clinic. Razor told him Hemlock hadn’t shown up at the clinic, which was unlike him. That was the second red flag. Completely freaking out, Truck got on his bike and started riding all through town and the surrounding areas searching for any signs of the brother.

Exhausted, he stopped by Hemlock’s condo to check one more time.

Seeing the truck and car in the driveway, he parked, got off his bike, and knocked on the door.

When Charlie answered, Truck wasn’t ready for the girl to launch herself at him.

Wrapping his arms around her, he listened to Charlie tell him between sobs that Hemlock hadn’t come home.

“Let’s head to the clubhouse and see if anyone’s seen or heard from him.”

“Okay.” She sniffled, trying to gain some control over her emotions. Grabbing her purse and the house key, Charlie locked up, then followed Truck.

“Shit. I can’t put you on the back of my sled.”

Charlie didn’t see the problem, she’d ridden before. “I’ve ridden with Hemlock.”

Sighing, Truck faced Charlie when he realized she had no clue. “I can’t put you on the back of my bike because you’re my brother’s woman.”

Staring at Truck, Charlie tried wrapping her mind around the words coming out of Truck’s mouth. “I’m what?”

“Charlie. You’re his cinnamon girl.” He saw the shocked look on her face. “Don’t you see that. I mean you’re living in his house. Driving his car. He’s crazy about you.”

She was shocked. Hemlock… Hemlock crazy about her. It was news to her. Did she want it to be true? Yes, damn it, she did. “He hasn’t said anything. Hell, he hasn’t made a move.”

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Truck told Charlie something his brother should have already shared with her. “Hemlock’s got baggage. Like damaged baggage that’s held together by duct tape. And he hasn’t had the best track record with the ladies.”

Charlie didn’t understand why it mattered that Hemlock had a past. She had a past, it hadn’t stopped her… yet. “And?”

“And he’s slow to make a move,” Truck said with an over amount of frustration. The entire situation had spiraled out of control and he for one, could not figure out how or why.

With her hands on her hips, Charlie stared at Truck. “Then what do you propose we do.”

“Take his car. Better yet the truck, I own that bitch.” Pointing toward the driveway, he waited for her to walk before he took a step.

Driving towards the clubhouse, Truck passed a row of abandoned buildings and thought, could it be that simple. Pulling over, he parked the work truck and told Charlie to lock the doors as he climbed out. It didn’t surprise him when she got out and jogged up next to him.

“Why are we heading into an abandoned building, Truck?” Charlie asked as she shielded her eyes from the sun.

Honesty was a bitch , he thought. “Hemlock lived here when he was a kid.”

Charlie looked at the building and then at Truck. Surely the place hadn’t been abandoned when Hemlock lived there. Had it? “Truck, was Hemlock homeless was as

a child?”

“I think you should ask him that.” He was done digging a bigger hole for himself. He didn’t know what had triggered the kid to lose his shit the night before, but Truck did not want to add fuel to the fire by telling Charlie everything about Hemlock.

“He’s not here, so I’m asking you.” Charlie wanted to cry thinking about a small, scared Hemlock living in an abandoned building. Struggling to find food or any semblance of comfort.

“The kid had it rough. And that’s all I’m saying.” Stopping, he turned to face Charlie. “Please don’t ask me anything else about it.”

She could see by the look on the guy’s face he didn’t want to talk about Hemlock’s past. Knowing when to listen she responded, “Okay.”

After searching the abandoned building, Truck and Charlie headed for the clubhouse. When they arrived, they found Hemlock’s bike wasn’t in the parking lot. “Charlie, I need you to please stay in the vehicle this time.”

“I’ll stay in the truck,” she said and instantly crossed her fingers at her side.

“Thank you.” Truck got out giving her a tight smile before closing the door. Halfway across the lot he waved down Tank, one of the prospects. “Keep an eye on the truck and the girl inside.”

“Got it.”

Heading inside he found Vicious, and Razor, along with some of the other brothers sitting around the bar drinking. “Hey, have any of you seen Hemlock?”

“You haven’t seen or spoken to him yet?” asked Razor.

“No and I’m worried.”

Vicious looked from Truck to Razor like he was watching a ping-pong game until he halted the conversation. “Truck, what’s going on?”

Once Truck told the story, he watched Vicious fold his arms across his chest. “You don’t get it, do you?” The Veep said, sounding annoyed.

Truck didn’t consider himself stupid but as the seconds ticked by, he thought maybe he was by the way Vicious stared at him. “Get what?”

Vicious leaned back in his chair. “You said you had just come in from working out in the garage?”

Trucked shrugged, still not getting what his VP was getting at. “Yeah, I was all nasty and sweaty.”

“Where was Charlie?” Vicious asked.

“She’d just come in from swimming and was in the kitchen?”

Vicious almost laughed at how slow Truck was at figuring out what had happened. “In a swimsuit?” he asked Truck.

His mood was going from concern to pissed off as Vicious continued the interrogation. “Yeah, with a towel wrapped around her.”

Dropping his chair back down Vicious did smirk then. “Could you tell she was wearing a swimsuit?”

“I guess so. I don’t know. I don’t see the problem.” Truck was done with the questioning. He needed to find Hemlock.

“If you would have walked in, not knowing she’d been swimming, what would it have looked like?” Vicious asked Truck, hoping the brother would put two and two together.

“I don’t fucking know. Maybe that she just had a shower.” And it hit him in the face. Using his thumbs he massaged his temples. “He thought we had been together.”

“Bingo. And that betrayal cuts to the fucking bone.” Vicious should know since he’d been on the shitty end of that scenario many years before.

“But why would he come into the house expecting us to have been together?” Truck looked at Vicious who looked at Razor. “What did you do, asshole?” Truck asked Razor, his voice laced with anger.

Razor felt bad for fucking with Hemlock. He had no idea the kid would go off half-cocked. “I was screwing with him at work that day. I had no idea it was getting to him.”

Vicious wanted to throat punch Razor for being stupid. “The kid has abandonment issues.”

“He also has a terrible track record with women,” Truck added.

“Fuck!” Razor could kick his own damn ass. It was time to come clean with his own shit.

“He’s been razzing me about Lottie and not pulling the trigger.

” He heard the comments and the grumbling from his brothers and knew one hundred percent they were right.

“I turned the tables on him and didn’t let up.

Every time he called or texted and got no response, I told him shit about the two of you probably getting it on while he was mooning over her. ”

“You’re an asshole, Razor.”

“I won’t deny that, Truck.”

About that time Teller decided to walk in. Everyone stared at Razor, but it was Vicious who took the initiative and handled the situation. “Prez.”

The last thing Teller expected when he woke up and stepped out into the common room was a room full of his brothers having a heated discussion. Running over his weekly agenda, he didn’t remember there being a meeting scheduled. “Vicious, are we having a meeting that I didn’t know about?”

Still sitting with his arms folded across his thick chest, Vicious kept his eyes on Razor as he answered Teller, “Hemlock’s missing.”

“It’s my fault,” Razor commented, sighing heavily.

Truck waved off Razor taking the blame for the situation. “Nope, it’s on me.”

Teller stared at the small group of men not knowing where he should even begin. “Is this about to be an episode of forty-eight hours or do we know something.”

“It’s over a girl,” Vicious said, risking a look at the Prez.

“Excuse me.”

Truck closed his eyes hearing Charlie’s voice. Turning around he was about to remind her she was supposed to stay in the truck. Instead, he stayed quiet as she mouthed sorry to him.

The sound of a female voice coming from the doorway had them all turning around to find Charlie standing there. “If you’re talking about Hemlock, I think it’s my fault and no one else’s.”

Truck immediately walked over to her and hugged the girl. He heard the brothers grumble about how hands-on he was with her. Ignoring them, he walked Charlie inside and settled her down on one of the many sofas. “It’s not your fault. Razor was giving him hell about us.”

“What about us?” she asked Truck while looking at Razor who stood across the room.

“Exactly.” Noticing he was holding her hand, Truck let go and stood up moving back, putting distance between them.

That’s when he realized he’d been doing things the wrong way.

Hugging her too long, having inside jokes that Hemlock wasn’t privy to, spending too much downtime with her in hopes of helping his brother out with the girl. “It’s my fault.”

“What the fuck?” Teller looked at Vicious. “Do we think Hemlock is in some sort of trouble or just trying to figure himself out?”

Dropping his arms, Vicious stood and stepped next to Teller. “I think he’s trying to figure himself out.”

Shaking his head, Teller headed for the office and a shit ton of paperwork he needed to deal with. “Keep me informed of any developments.”

“Will do,” Vicious said, glancing over his shoulder.

“It’s a fucking episode of the Golden Girls.” Vicious chuckled hearing Teller mumble as he walked away.