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Copyright© 2021 Winter Sloane
ISBN: 978-0-3695-0395-4
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Audrey Bobak
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WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BENDING IRON
Fallen Saints MC, 5
Winter Sloane
Copyright © 2021
Chapter One
I can’t fall asleep, Amber Chase reminded herself. She peered over the bus seats, heart racing. Amber half expected David to climb up the steps to the bus, wearing one of his expensive business suits and a Cheshire grin on his face. Her hands started shaking. David should still be at work at his fancy Manhattan office. He liked to drink with his lawyer buddies on Friday nights, she remembered.
A man entered the bus. Same height and muscular build as her ex-boyfriend. A woman, probably his girlfriend, said something in his ear that made him laugh. Not David. Amber checked the watch on her wrist. The watch with the big circular display and worn leather strap used to belong to her dad. She’d left behind the gold Rolex David gave her for their first-month anniversary. She had zero regrets. That Rolex felt heavy like shackles. David only showered her with gifts when he felt guilty about hurting her.
The bus was supposed to leave five minutes ago. Was there going to be a delay?
Her most valuable possessions were stuffed in the packed backpack at her feet. An elderly black woman in her early fifties made her way to the seat next to her. She gave Amber a warm smile, then sat down. Amber was too full shot of nerves to return her smile.
She pulled out her cell phone from the pocket of her jeans, then stared blankly at the black screen for a few seconds. Right. Amber had forgotten she turned the dratted thing off to avoid receiving any more calls and messages from David. Once she arrived at her destination, she’d block his number. Redemption, Illinois. Population? Less than two thousand. Amber had chosen Redemption at random.
Amber was a born and bred city girl. Small towns freaked her out, or maybe she read too many thrillers which were often set in small towns. Either way, David would never think to look for her in Redemption. It would just be a pit stop. A place to lay low for a few weeks before moving on to greener pastures. Hopefully, by then, David would have forgotten all about her. In a month or two, David would have a new girl on his arm. She didn’t envy that woman. Amber pitied her because she would have to live through the same nightmare Amber did.
Her panic subsided a little when the bus started to move. Finally, they were leaving the station. She leaned against her seat. The woman next to her busted out her knitting needles and yarn. Amber envied her. She wished she knew how to knit. She heard it was a calming hobby.
“I have an extra pair of knitting needles if you’re interested, dear,” the woman said, noticing her stare.
“No thanks, I’m good. I don’t even know how to knit,” she admitted.
“It’s a four-hour journey. I can teach you,” she offered. “I’m Mary, by the way. I own the Cherrywood Inn in Redemption.”
“Amber,” she said, not willing to offer more information about herself. David didn’t like her talking to random strangers, but she was no longer under his control. “And I’d like that. Thank you.”
Needles and yarn kept her mind occupied for the entirety of the drive. Mary turned out to be a patient and great teacher. By the end of her journey, she made a simple baby blanket. She held out the piece of bright red cloth. Emotions clogged in her throat. Memories she locked in a box weeks ago threatened to spill out.
What was she thinking, making something like this? Maybe her subconscious mind wanted her to remember what she had lost. Amber briefly touched her flat stomach, then she decided to tuck the ugly blanket away.
“Are you visiting relatives?” It was the first real question Mary asked her. The bus was pulling into the station.
“Taking a vacation actually,” Amber replied. Lies usually didn’t come smoothly to her. I learned from the best, she thought sardonically. As a criminal defense lawyer, David had a knack for convincing juries his very guilty clients were guilt-free. Nothing innocent about them or David.
“Vacations are good. A nice and bright young woman like you must be weighed down by a busy job in the city. Here in Redemption, we take things real slow.”
“Actually, I made this decision on a whim. I haven’t had the chance to make a booking. You mentioned you owned an inn?” Amber asked, recalling Mary’s introduction.
The big smile Mary flashed her seemed genuine. Her father, back when he was alive, always said she had good instincts about people. Amber had been terribly wrong about David, but she had a good feeling about Mary.
“Right this way, dear. We’ve just been newly renovated. I’m on my way right there,” Mary said as they got off the bus.
Amber shouldered her heavy pack, grunting softly at the weight. “It’s okay, I can make my way there. What was the name again? I can use Google Maps for directions.”
“Nonsense. It’s a short walk there. I can show you some of the town’s sights,” Mary said.
How could Amber say no? She’d worked out a plan during the bus ride. Once she reached Redemption, she’d go to a café and search for a place to stay. Staying at Mary’s inn would save her loads of research time. She only hoped the inn was as nice as Mary described.
They left the bus stop and emerged onto Redemption’s Main Street. Charming two-story shops lined either side of her. Mary seemed to know a good number of locals because they were stopped a couple of times. Amber couldn’t imagine living in a place like this. Back before she moved in with David and lived in her own apartment, she barely knew her neighbors. She noticed some of the locals giving her curious stares. Mary introduced her as a friend, and they warmed up to her a little.
“Sorry for the delay,” Mary said.
“This town seems charming,” she murmured.
“It does, doesn’t it? You just have to watch out for the bikers.” Mary stopped in front of a charming, two-story cottage-style home that had been converted into an inn.
Amber’s mouth went dry. Did Mary just make a joke? “Bikers?” she pressed.
“The Fallen Saints MC. They own this town.”
Amber stared at her. Mary had sounded so matter-of-fact, like a town controlled by a bunch of rough bikers was a perfectly acceptable thing. Mary walked her to the reception area.
“What about the local authorities?” she asked.
Mary paused, as if she regretted saying anything at all. “Some folks here would say the MC taking control of the town is the best thing that ever happened to Redemption. Before they came along, Redemption was riddled with gangs and drug dealers.”
“But you believe otherwise?” she asked.
“Those who stay in power, abuse that power. Please, just forget what I’ve told you. Enjoy the town as much as you can. Candy here will tell you all about the activities you can sign up for while you’re here,” Mary said.
“One room?” the twenty-something brunette manning the reception desk asked her.
After receiving her key, Amber went to the second floor, where her room was located. Candy had given her a room with a fantastic view. Dropping her backpac
k by the bed, Amber walked to the opened window facing the rest of the town. She started to wonder if coming here was a bad idea after all. It had taken her weeks to gather her courage to leave David. Then she made the awful decision of coming to a place governed by controlling and ruthless men just like David.
Despite the generously sized room and all the opened windows—Amber counted three total—she began to feel a little claustrophobic. The walls seemed to close down on her, and she needed to get some air. She planned on taking it easy today. Soak in the bath, stay in, order room service, and eat dinner on the bed in her bathrobe. Those plans went out the window right this instant. What Amber needed was a drink or two. God. She could practically taste the cold beer in her mouth.
She hadn’t been able to drink for months.
Amber settled for a quick shower. She felt refreshed afterward. The urge to go out and let her hair down was still there. After she moved in with David, he seldom let her out of the apartment. It didn’t help that as a freelance graphic designer, Amber worked from home. For the past year, she felt like a prisoner. Now she was free to do whatever she wanted.
She left her room and asked Candy where the closest bar was.
“O’Riley’s,” Candy answered. “It’s just two streets down from here. I overheard Mrs. Thompson warning you about the bikers. They’re not as bad as she makes them out to be.”
“Really?” Amber doubted it. She wanted to avoid a run-in with any of these bikers tonight. Have a drink, a couple of dances, and some dinner. That was all she wanted. Then she’d head back to her room and try not to think about what she was going to do next. Amber had planned on staying here for a week, but maybe that wasn’t a wise idea.
“Yeah, she’s still a little bitter because one of her nephews got into a car accident with one of the Fallen Saints MC members,” Candy told her.
Amber would be a little angry if she was in Mary’s position, too. She thanked Candy and headed to O’Riley’s. Before David, she had a few girlfriends she went out for drinks with. That ended when the controlling bastard decided he wanted her all to himself. He didn’t allow her to meet anyone. It was only later Amber realized David had slowly but surely isolated her from everyone she once knew.
“I can do this,” she whispered to herself. Amber took deep breaths. She waded through the crowd and somehow managed to find an empty seat at the bar. She ordered a local beer. The cool amber liquid tasted heavenly on her tongue.
“Never seen you in these parts before, sweetheart,” slurred a voice.
A portly man wearing a dirty cowboy hat occupied the seat next to her. Her skin crawled when he looked her up and down. He took his hat off, revealing a balding patch of hair. He flashed her a mouthful of cigarette-stained teeth.
“Daryl McGibson,” he said, offering her a hand, which she didn’t shake. Amber took a sip of her beer. “You a tourist?”
“Amber,” she said. “Yeah, I’m just passing by.”
“Another drink for the pretty lady!” Daryl yelled to the bartender.
“You don’t have to do that,” Amber said quickly. “Sorry, but I just want to be alone tonight. I just came from a bad breakup.”
Another lie. David wouldn’t let her go. She wondered what he was doing now. It was only 8:00 in New York. Was he working late in the office? Or was he already roaring drunk with his colleagues at his favorite sports bar?
Maybe she would luck out, and David would choose to hook up with some random woman at the bar. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he brought another woman to their apartment. It always seemed strange to her that David seemed to think it was completely fine that he cheated on her all the time and yet refused to let her have a little bit of freedom.
“Then I’ll keep you company,” Daryl said. “Tell me about yourself.”
This wasn’t good. She had forgotten how to say no, to stand up for herself. Living with a monster like David for months had beaten all the fight out of her. She noticed her hand on her glass bottle beginning to tremble. What was she thinking? After leaving the nightmare that was her life, did she think she could just forget about the past and start anew?
Chapter Two
“I just want to drink my beer in peace,” Iron heard the out-of-towner whisper.
He leaned against the bar, considering the pretty brunette perched at the end of the bar. She was a real beauty. Long, flowing brown hair. Dark eyes. Under the dim bar lights, Iron couldn’t exactly tell what color they were. She was exactly his type.
Judging by her clothes, she wasn’t from around here. In fact, most of the women who frequented this bar wore short skirts and dresses and tops that revealed way too much. This woman was the opposite. She wore black jeans and a matching black turtleneck. Iron also noticed she didn’t bother with any makeup—not that she needed it.
She’s also way too young for you, a voice in his head whispered. Iron was turning forty this year, and this woman was what? Definitely half his age.
He didn’t like the way Daryl McGibson was leaning too close to her when all she wanted to be was to be left alone. Daryl whispered something in her ear. Iron’s jaw tightened as she began to tremble like a leaf. He thought he glimpsed a fading ring of bruises under the collar of the turtleneck she wore.
Iron knew the signs of abuse. He’d had to witness his old man reduce his mother to a punching bag until Iron was strong enough to put a bullet between his eyes.
“Here’s your beers,” the bartender said.
Chains and three of his other MC brothers were waiting for him by the pool table, but they could wait. Daryl put a hand on the woman’s arm. She cringed.
“I should go,” she blurted.
“Nah. Why don’t you stay a little? I can show you a good time,” Daryl was saying.
He found himself walking in their direction. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around Daryl’s neck and throttle him. That would make the pushy bastard back off. Iron couldn’t forget the last time he lost his temper. When he’d been younger, he’d been headstrong and made reckless decisions all the time. At his age, he prided himself on having better control over his emotions. The younger MC members often relied on him for advice. They looked up to him.
“She said no. Didn’t you hear her?” Iron practically barked out the words. Heads swiveled in their direction.
The woman looked up at him and paled. She probably only saw his size, his tattoos, and the MC patch on his jacket and concluded he was up to no good. Just like everyone else. Well, it didn’t matter. Once he got this bastard off her back, he’d go his own way. She’d do the same.
“Hey, buddy. Why don’t you bark up a different—” Daryl couldn’t finish his remaining words. Iron shoved him hard against the wall.
“Don’t make me warn you again. Back off,” Iron said. He leaned in close, so only Daryl could hear his next words. “She’s mine, you understand?”
Iron knew he was making a commotion. This wasn’t like him at all. He seldom lost his cool. Usually, it was the younger and rowdier members of the MC who caused trouble. Not him. Iron took deep breaths and released Daryl.
“I get it. She’s yours. The bitch ain’t worth it anyway,” Daryl grumbled.
“What the fuck did you call her?” Iron demanded. Someone grabbed his arm. The woman. That gave him pause. He figured she would’ve taken the opportunity to run by now. She looked up at him with those big and grateful brown eyes. He sucked in a breath.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She must’ve realized she was still holding his arm because she dropped it. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“You could’ve told him off.”
She slumped her shoulders. Iron regretted his words immediately. He remembered asking his momma once why she never fought back. Her answer remained ingrained in his head.
Because if I do, it’ll only get worse.
The woman tugged at the collar of her turtleneck, a nervous gesture, Iron realized. The sight of the fading bruises there only incensed h
im further. Was she running away from the bastard who left those ugly souvenirs on her? She came here alone, after all.
“Why don’t we get out of here?” he asked her.
She blinked up at him. Iron wanted to punch himself when he realized how he sounded. What his words implied.
“I’d like to walk you back to your hotel, or wherever you’re staying,” he said.
“Oh. Okay. I just need to pay for my drink and grab my coat,” she said.
“I have that covered.” Iron slipped a few bills on the bar, then walked her out of the bar. Daryl, he noticed, had slipped out like the weasel he was. They passed by the table where Chains and the others were. Chains let out a whistle. Iron glared at his MC brother and gave him a silent warning with his eyes. He knew exactly what they were thinking, but they were wrong. Iron had no designs on this woman, no matter how tempting she was.
If he wanted sex, then one of the club whores back at the MC clubhouse could satisfy his needs. This was different. He just wanted to see this woman, this stranger, safely home. They finally exited the crowded bar.
“I’m Amber,” she told him.
“Iron.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Is that your real name?”
“Nope, but most of the folks here call me that. Where are you staying at?”
She hesitated, then answered, “The Cherrywood Inn.”
“That’s a great place,” he said. The MC knew every business owner in town. Ever since one of their members got into an accident with Mrs. Thompson’s nephew, she hadn’t been exactly warm toward them.
“It is. I only arrived today, but the building and room’s beautiful.” She paused. “I guess I stick out, huh? You immediately knew I’m an outsider.”
“You do. You’re not like dressed like anyone at the bar.”
Bending Iron (Fallen Saints MC Book 5) Page 1
