Pulling up to the clubhouse, I realize today’s barbeque is not just for the local Haywood’s Landing Hellions, but also, our affiliate charter and chapter clubs
. Rather than the usual fifty or so bikers with their families, it’s more like two hundred of them here today. It’s a sight that most would be intimidated by. For me, it’s comfort. It’s the safety found in my family. Most of all, it’s my home.

Once a year, sometimes twice, my dad invites all of the partnering motorcycle clubs out for a huge barbeque. The Hellion’s control all of Coastal North and South Carolina, as well as a few areas in the Piedmont and Appalachian areas of North Carolina. They provide protection, shelter, food, and fun for all affiliate clubs traveling through. The Hellions are respected and run Carolina Country. Some of the clubs we protect passing through our territories are into the more illegal side of motorcycle club life, while others are more of a band of brothers traveling together. Our club walks a fine line in what they do and do not participate in. As a female, I’m sure there is much more that goes on in the club then I will ever be made aware of. Having such a large area to cover, Dad makes sure to show his appreciation for the smaller charters and chapters whenever possible. Times like this are about family, relaxing, and business is off the table.

Our thirty acre compound area is now littered with bikes, trikes, and cars. Burly bikers abound. Ol’ ladies and kids are squealing and smiling at every turn. The kids are enjoying the food, games, bounce houses, and pony rides. It’s like a mini freaking carnival. With all the ol’ ladies present, the bar flies and hang around whores are at a minimum. Some aren’t so bad, but most annoy the shit out of me. They all respect the ol’ ladies and wives. Good thing they know their place, my dad won’t tolerate any disrespect of a claimed woman in his club by anyone, but especially not a bar bitch just looking for a night with a Hellion.

Getting out of my car, I smile. My girls are here today, standing on the other side of the lot, waving to me. Savannah Mae and Caroline are my two very best friends, my survival sisters in this crazy lifestyle. Savannah ‘Sass’ Perchton and I have been best friends from childhood.

Her dad, ‘Danza’, is a Hellion original, along with my dad, Roundman, their friend, ‘Frisco’, and the late ‘Rocky’ Fowler. The four men created the MC as a way to ride together and stay safe thirty-two years ago when they were in their twenties. Rocky and his wife passed away in a car accident a few years back. Their only daughter, Dina, was in college at the time, with no other family. The Lawson family and the Hellions MC have made sure to be a support system for her as much as she will possibly allow. She’s the reason Sass and I went to college in Charlotte. Our dads felt it was a good way to keep an eye on us, Dina and Maggie Lawson, another Hellion princess all at the same time. Dina is a couple of years older than us. She’s settled in life. She has a great husband and two beautiful daughters. Maggie and Dina both took care of Sass and I while we were in college. Especially the first two years, we were young and had been sheltered so much by growing up in our small town run by the Hellions, college was a wild experience. Dina and Maggie are like older sisters for both of us.

Freshman year, we decided to attempt dorm life. That’s where we met Caroline Milton. We lasted one semester in the dorm, before my dad put us in an apartment and we brought Caroline with us. She’s the complete opposite of Sass and me. Caroline majored in business, specifically accounting, where Sass and I took an easier path, not involving so much math, choosing arts and communications.

I stifle a giggle as I realize this is Caroline’s first time at a large club event. Of course, she knows that Sass and I have biker Dads, but her schedule has never allowed her to be with us for a party. She’s clearly overdressed in her cocktail length, spaghetti strapped dress, and wedge heeled sandals. The dress isn’t overly formal, but its fitted and not the casual feel that these barbeques are meant for. Sass and I are both in jean shorts and tank tops. Denim and leather are safe bets for anything at the clubhouse. A sundress would’ve been a bit more suitable for her to wear. Although, I don’t think Caroline is one to ever dress casually, except when cleaning her house or something, and that’s a maybe. I doubt she even owns a pair of yoga pants.

After college graduation, Caroline stayed in Charlotte. She works with Kenna, one of Dina and Maggie’s friends. Sass and I, on the other hand, came back to the coast to work for the Hellions storage business and motorcycle garage. I run the storage office, while Sass is like a girl Friday, answering phones, doing part runs and stuff for the bike shop. We share a condo on the beach. At twenty-five, neither of us wanted to live back at home, even though we both know we are never out of the reach of our parents or any of the Hellions. This has been our world for two and half years, living at the beach, while working beside our dads.

Weaving my way through the hordes of bikes towards my friends, I feel at peace, even amongst the chaos. Gazing around me, I admire the many motorcycles in our courtyard, each decked out in chrome and leather. I hug my girls for our typical greeting, as I reach them.

Together, we make our way inside the clubhouse. I nod and wave at my extended family. Taking in the many unfamiliar faces, I smile knowing I’m safe even with these “strangers” around. It’s an unspoken code. Women are protected and cherished in the Hellions. I’m no one’s target for trouble here, and not because this is our territory, but because I’m a lady of the Hellions for life, ride until I die.

The affiliates seem to understand who I am, even without introduction. I’m not an ol’ lady. There is no cut on my back. I’m not claimed with a property patch. That doesn’t mean I’m available either. No, I’m not one to be found riding bitch on anyone’s bike. There is only one motorcycle I’m permitted to place my derriere on and those opportunities are few and far between.

I’m not available to guys outside the club either, which suits me just fine. I was born into this life. My heart beats to the same steady tick of a Harley Davidson V-twin engine. I’m Delilah
‘Doll’ Reklinger. Princess to the Haywood’s Hellions MC. Daughter of ‘Roundman’, Hellion original, and Prez for the last thirty two years. I’m the kid sister that each of these badass bikers look out for. They will gladly kick your ass all because you simply looked at me. I’m a daughter to each and every ol’ lady to nurture, love, and treat like one of their own. This is my world, my home, and my happiness.

Haywood’s Hellions annual barbeque is one of the best parties of the year. Due to business needs, last year we were unable to attend. Roundman scheduled the run so our absence was no sign of disrespect for our parent chapter.

This year, we’re expected and happy to oblige. When Roundman, or any patched Hellion calls, we answer. All the charters are represented today, complete with families in tow. The turnout is outstanding for the small town of Haywood’s Landing, North Carolina. The compound is located in the boondocks, making functions like these a non-issue for the neighbors. Each charter may have their own Prez, but we all answer to the Haywood’s Hellions and Roundman.

Taking it all in around us, my crew and I are relaxing, leaning up against the bar. Rex smacks my chest as he tips his beer bottle in the direction of three females. One of them clearly didn’t get the message, this is an MC event. She is dressed more for a day of shopping, or a night out at a club, than a barbeque at the clubhouse.

“Those are definitely not hang around hoes.” Rex states.

“That’s for damn sure. Walking with class and a whole lot of confidence. None of them are hanging on a man. No property patches. Ahhh shit, Rex, fresh pussy for you.” I reply laughing.

Drexel ‘Rex’ Crews, he’s my cousin, Vice Prez of my Catawba Hellions chapter, and my lifelong best friend. We are the Piedmont chapter to the Haywood’s Hellions, located in Catawba, North Carolina, about an hour outside of Charlotte.

Our Moms are sisters. They both had us out of wedlock and at a young age. We were taken in by our grandparents and raised more like brothers, and proudly carry our Grandpa’s last name. Only eighteen months apart in age, we are still, and have always been, inseparable. Rex’s mom tries, whereas my mom bailed early on. Our grandmother passed when we were eight or nine and our grandfather followed in our teens. Having no one to really care for us, we roamed the streets. My aunt Jolene, Rex’s mom, tried, but she worked so much to provide a house and food for us that there wasn’t enough time in the days for her to keep up. Drugs, alcohol, petty theft, and girls were our day to day. Until a chance meeting with Roundman and his boys at a gas station one day. He set us straight and set us up. We owe everything we have to him.

Rex is a ladies man with little to no standards. His only real boundary is that of an ol’ lady. If you don’t want Rex to hit on your woman, then you damn sure better claim her. Hang around hoes, sisters, friends, exes, and complete strangers are all fair game in his mind; married or not. As long as it’s new pussy, he’s happy. There are no encore performances.

‘Hit it, get it, and go. No repeats,’
is the motto Rex lives by.

“That dress is screaming to be plucked off. She needs to be devoured by D-Rex, my brother. She just doesn’t know it yet.” He says with a snicker as he steps away in the direction of his new conquest.

The brunette in the dress may be what has caught Rex’s attention, but my eyes are glued to the long, straight blonde haired beauty next to the dress. Her face is round and flawless, her skin smooth like that of a glass doll. She’s in a black Harley Davidson tank top and short as sin jean shorts. Damn, this broad is stacked; nice rack, skinny with a plump ass, screaming to be smacked. I watch as she’s laughing, carefree with her friends, as Rex joins them.

I begin to approach, when I see Roundman walk to her. She hugs him innocently and it dawns on me exactly who she is. That’s Roundman’s Doll. She is off limits. All lust filled thoughts I have are momentarily gone. She isn’t just any Hellions princess, she’s
the
Hellion princess. We had to keep an eye on her from afar when she lived in Charlotte.

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