Princes of Hell MC Set
Page 1
ID 1974310 © Les3photo8 | Dreamstime.com Princes Of Hell
Copyright © 2019 KJ Dahlen Books
Editor: Leanore Elliott
Book Design & Cover: Wicked Muse
Also by Kj Dahlen
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Sinner
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Wizard
Raven
Taz
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Thunder & A Little Bit Of Lightning
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Pagan
Bratva Blood Brothers
Yuri
Mikial
Barshan
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Roman
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Kosta
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Trigger The Storm
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Legend
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Kings Of Wrath MC
Pride
Candyman
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Scar
Romeo
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Mayhem
Lost Sons MC
Creed's Return
Jack
Tate
Harry
Silas
Daniel
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Louisiana Heat
Ajax
Fireball
Stinger
Moon
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Player
Masters Of Mayhem MC
Rance
Bull
Korbel
Rocker
Nova
New Blood-Savaged Souls MC
Arrow
Beau
Hayes
Runner
Payback
Ghoster
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Condor
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Booker
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Texas
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Savaged Souls MC
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Gunner
Jett
Cobra
Thor
Gypsy
Grizzly
Moose
Skeeter
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The Quest
The Ride
The Brothers
The Game
The Fall
The Race
Coming Home
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Sinners MC
Hawk
Pony
Prosper
Saber
Sin's Bastards MC
Silk & Bones
Karma's Bite
No Regrets
Hell's Fury
Lies & Liars
Stone Cold
Sin's Bastards Christmas
Leon
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Chance
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Soldiers Of Hades MC
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Python
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Lightning
Whiskey
Spirit
Tennessee Breeds
Breed
Greer
Monster
Crow
Maverick
Cowboy
Blade
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Vengeance Is Mine
Bane
Damon
Bane's Shadow
Cane
The Priest
WarLords MC
Truman
King
Jack- WarLords
Deuce
Joker
Traven
Giving Thanks-Warlord MC
Whiskey Bend MC Series
Lucifer's Woman
Demon's Stand
At All Costs
Out Of The Shadows
Jinx
Shadow
Cooper
Bender
Saint
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Satan's Spawn & Sin's Bastards Collection
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Shadows Of The Past
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The Cartouche
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Kj Dahlen
Princes Of Hell MC Set
www.kjdahlenbooks.com
/> SPECIAL EDITION | BY | KJ Dahlen Books™
Chapter One
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
DESCRPITION
PREQUEL
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
EPILOGUE
DESCRIPTION
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Conclusion
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SPECIAL EDITION
BY
KJ Dahlen Books™
Chapter One
Talon sighed. Today wasn’t a good day. Hell, there had been a few of these lately. The club was on their way to bury one of their own. The final goodbye in the ultimate story of freedom and life. The ending they all faced. Shit, the ending everyone faced, except the MC ran a little closer to that edge, not afraid to look over it or spit off it, not giving a fuck when their time came.
Talon touched his leather cut then slowly lifted it from the bed and walked to the mirror. There he stood as he put the leather cut on, his six-six, three-hundred-pound frame of muscle feeling his outlaw heart starting to get a little heavy. He remembered the day he was patched into the Princes of Hell Motorcycle Club. Standing there, waiting for the vote, knowing that while his blood ran deep in the MC, there was still a chance that he could be voted as a no. He had caused plenty of problems with patched in members, so the vote took longer than expected. But when the table members emerged from their congregation, it was Hammer who handed Talon the leather cut for the first time. He pulled Talon close, kissed his cheek, and warned him not to get fucking killed on his first day.
Now it was Talon who would to be saying goodbye to Hammer.
The old bastard lived longer than any expected. And nobody thought it would have been his heart to give out and kill him because nobody figured Hammer had a damn heart.
Talon smiled and shook his head. He opened the top drawer of his dresser and took out a picture that he had kept close by since the news of Hammer’s death hit the clubhouse.
It was Talon as a baby, wearing nothing but a diaper, sitting on the leather seat of his father’s motorcycle. His father had been skinnier than Talon, but ripped with muscle. Standing next to the ride was Hammer. He was fatter then, had more hair, but forever with a cigarette stuck between his lips, flipping the bird.
“You son of a bitch,” Talon said as he thought about all the times he’d helped Hammer out.
A knock at the door prompted him to quickly put the picture away.
The door opened and in stepped, Eagle, the club’s President. “VP,” he said. “You ready.”
“As I’ll ever be,” Talon said.
“Let’s have a drink and then go bury our brother.”
Talon nodded. His presence was needed alongside Eagle’s to keep the formality going.
They walked the hallway side by side.
Once the hallway opened to the main floor of the clubhouse, it was Cobra who stuck his fingers into his mouth to kill the noise.
Everyone shut up as a young prospect hurried to shut off the music.
It was silent enough to hear someone’s stomach growling.
Eagle reached into his pocket and took out a handful of black patches. He handed all but one to Talon.
Talon stood as Eagle pressed the patch to his chest and nodded. Talon made a first around that patch and placed the others on the bar. He then took one and offered it to Eagle. Eagle stared at the patch in his hand, nodding, his eyes getting misty.
Talon snapped his fingers and two prospects hurried to line up the shot glasses while Talon put a black patch next to each one. They would all wear that black patch on their cut as a remembrance to one of the originals. Hammer was part of the found of the Princes of Hell Motorcycle Club. Sitting with Talon’s father, coming up with the idea and taking the chance to begin a life of outlaw freedom, Hammer made the club, all the charters, even the fucking town what it was.
When the shots were poured, Eagle took the first glass. He dropped a bullet from his favorite weapon into it.
With the nod of his head, everyone else came to get their drink. They all did the same with their bullets. Even though Hammer wasn’t taken by a bullet, the tradition was the same. He lived hard and so they figure he died the same way.
The only sound in the clubhouse was the footsteps and the creaks of the old floor.
Eagle looked around at everyone and slowly raised his arm into the air. “Our brother,” he said.
“Our father,” Talon added.
“Hear, hear!” Raptor called out.
“Fucking right,” Rogue said.
Everyone started to make noise. The quiet clubhouse quickly got loud. The pressure building, ready to explode, waiting for Eagle to give the call to have the last drink to Hammer’s honor.
From the corner of Talon’s eye, he saw one of the prospects dart toward the clubhouse door. Talon nudged Eagle and pointed.
“What the fuck is this?” Eagle asked.
“Not sure, Prez,” Talon said.
The prospect opened the door for a second and looked back. His face was white with fear.
Talon called out, “What is it?”
“Badges are here...”
“I’ll handle it,” Talon said. He walked to the door, ready for a fucking war. What was this supposed to be? A power play at the club because they felt the club was weak right now? He shoved the prospect out of the way and ripped open the door.
Two officers stood there, hats in hands.
“What the fuck do you want?” Talon growled.
They side stepped and there stood Chief Werley. “Thomas,” he said.
Talon curled his lip. Anyone that used his real name these days deserved a bullet to the head.
“I wanted to pay my respects.”
“Excuse me?” Talon asked.
“Chief,” Eagle said, stepping up next to Talon.
“Eagle.”
“We were just about to salute our fallen brother.”
“Mind if I join?” Chief asked.
“Not a problem,” Eagle said.
Talon gritted his teeth. He and Chief Werley had too much history together.
Chief stopped at Talon. �
��I know he meant a lot to you. He meant a lot to all of us.”
“How many times did you arrest him?” Talon asked.
“Enough times that he had his own set of cuffs,” Chief said with a hint of a smile.
“You’re a real prick.”
“I brought some of my guys to give you an escort to the cemetery,” Chief said. “My honor to Hammer.”
“The only way I want a police escort is when you haul my ass to prison,” Talon stated with a glare as he stared defiantly at Chief Werley.
“Talon is a little out of sorts today,” Eagle said.
“We all are,” Cobra said. “Now if we’re letting a badge drink with us, we better start drinking right now.”
Eagle snapped his fingers. “Prospect.”
One of the prospects hurried to get Chief Worley a glass.
“To freedom,” Eagle said, raising his glass. “To the life Hammer lived and to the way he died.”
“Face down in pussy,” Rogue called out.
“I heard he was suffocated by some big tits,” Raptor said.
Talon grinned. Leave it to Hammer to let his reputation live on after death. If they only knew the old bastard had fallen ill while...He shrugged no need for them to know. Hammer would have his honor. “To Hammer,” Talon called out.
“To Hammer,” they all yelled.
Everyone took their shot then flipped their shot glasses upside down and left them where they were standing.
They exited the clubhouse in a line, walking to their rides. The front headlights of all the motorcycles had a black strip across them.
The entire thing sort of bothered Talon. He kept it to himself but he didn’t like the slowness and that it was so drawn the hell out. Plus, everyone somber, black stripes, all this shit, it made them look weak. And with Hammer dead, there were no more original members alive. That was more or less a formality but it made the MC look weaker now. All the guys that started the club were buried or would be soon enough in Hammer’s case which meant any big changes were going to be done through the table vote.
A hearse waited at the end of the lot.
The motorcycles all passed one by one, each of them giving some kind of salute to Hammer as he rested in the casket in the hearse.
For Talon, he decided to keep it simple and honest.
He threw the middle finger and smiled as he drove by the hearse.
Talon looked at his pinky. The skull ring was all kinds of fucked up. It used to fit on his pointer finger, but that was a long time ago. When he was a skinny little punk, switching between riding bicycle and skateboard, trying to figure out what he wanted. Thanks to Hammer throwing his ass into a gym and a late growth spurt, the skull ring barely fit his pinky. He took this ring off some guy that pulled a gun on Hammer.