Page 1 of Trip (Sons of Hell MC #11)

I had just left Rosewood Ski Resort after having the most asinine conversation with a bunch of overgrown, meddling, bored adults who definitely had way too much damn time on their hands.

As if planning a major wedding wasn’t bad enough, they wanted my help to interfere and force my club brother George into a relationship with his best friend.

Like I could force anyone to do anything.

Hell, I couldn’t even contain Cameron, or the rest of the club brothers, or my wife for that matter, who, by the way, was on another tear because she firmly believed in that unstable mind of hers that her bestie was conspiring against her... again.

I just couldn’t with those two. I had half a mind to just let them tear each other apart. Logically, I knew they would never intentionally hurt one another, but it was the buildup, the drama, the craziness of their friendly feud that drove me to seek shelter and hide away in my office most days.

Nope, the meddling adults were just gonna have to figure this one out on their own.

My bag of crazy had spilled over.

Besides, with the holidays right around the corner and with school getting ready to let out, I needed to be on top of my game, because there was nothing worse than a bored seven-year-old with a penchant for causing trouble.

Heading up Rosewood Mountain, my phone interrupted the radio with an incoming call. Connecting it, I said, “Speak.”

“Mr. Montclair, this is Principal Kellerman, from Rosewood—”

“I know who you are, Robert. We went to the same school, remember? What did the little shit do now?”

“Miraculously, Cameron has been on his best behavior for the last few days.”

“Who is he blackmailing?”

“No one that I know of.”

“So he’s behaving?” I asked skeptically.

“Well, yes.”

“Robert,” I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. “In all the time you’ve known Cameron Hobbs, have you ever known him to behave?”

“Well... no,” the man muttered. “No I haven’t.”

“My advice. Get off your ass and go find out what he’s planning, then call me back.”

Ending the phone call, I shook my head and headed inside the clubhouse to find most of the brothers just milling around doing nothing. Of course, the one I wanted was sitting at the bar talking with Enigma. Upon seeing me, the fucker grinned. “Hey, King. How did the meeting go?”

“Don’t ask. Get your ass in my office. We need to talk.”

“Whatever she said, it’s a lie!” Scribe damn near screeched. “I didn’t do anything. I swear.”

Narrowing my eyes at the guilty fucker, I just pointed. “Office. Now.”

Enigma snickered as Scribe slowly got up and marched to my office. The rest of the brothers were quiet as church mice, knowing shit was about to hit the fan.

Walking into my office, I shut the door and shrugged off my coat, saying, “Take a seat, Scribe.”

Watching my brother slowly lower himself onto the couch in my office, I headed for my desk and sat.

“How’s the adoption paperwork coming?”

“Oh.” Scribe sat up straighter and smiled. “All good on that front. I picked up the papers from Judge Tomlinson yesterday. The brat is now legally Cameron Hobbs Montclair. The official papers are on your desk so you can file those away. There is another copy to give to Cameron at Christmas.”

Nodding, I leaned back in my chair and looked at the man I’d fought a war with, confided in, trusted, considered one of my closest friends. “Scribe, I need your help.”

“Sure, man. Anything.”

Looking Scribe dead in the eyes, I clearly said, “I know what’s in the greenhouse.”

Scribe blinked, gulped and opened his mouth a few times like a gaping fish, but no words came out.

Leaning forward, I smiled. “So it’s going to go like this, bestie ,” I said, using his term for my wife.

“You will cease and desist this feud once and for all, or I will tell my wife what you’ve got in there and let her have her most fondest wish.

You, duct taped to a chair in her tattoo parlor with free rein to do whatever her heart desires.

I hear pussylips might be making a comeback in 2026. ”

Neither one of us moved.

Nor blinked.

It was a battle of wills, and I planned on winning.

However, what I didn’t expect was for Scribe to lean back on the sofa and smile. The second he did, I fucking knew I had lost. “Nice try, King. You don’t know what’s in the greenhouse and the only other person who does would go down fighting before he said a word.”

“Damn it, Scribe,” I groaned, banging my head on my desk. “Christmas is right around the corner. I don’t want Bestie Feud 2.0 wreaking havoc during the holidays!”

Scribe laughed, getting to his feet. “No worries, King. There won’t be any feud. I’ve got this.”

Looking up, I narrowed my eyes at the smug fucker and sneered, “That’s what worries me.”

“O ye of little faith.” The annoying bastard grinned as he walked out of my office, head held high as my phone rang.

Seeing the caller, I groaned and connected the call, immediately asking, “What’s he planning?”

“He won’t say. He’s got that look in his eyes, though.”

“The fire and brimstone one?”

“Yep. That’s the one.”

“He with you?”

“Yeah,” Robert muttered. “Looking at him right now.”

“Put him on the phone.”

Seconds later, I heard the little shit’s voice. “HIYA, King! How’s it hanging?”

“Kid, I don’t care what you’ve got going on at the school. Drown the place in bubbles for all I care. I need your help.”

I distinctly heard Cameron gasp. “You need my help?”

“You’re very own Special Request.”

“What do ya need, King? I’m your man.”

And just like that, I sat back and smiled.