Princes of Hell MC Set

by KJ Dahlen

  “I know you do,” Rogue said. He gave Talon a punch to the arm.

  “Just keep Fiona and Bret under good eye,” Talon said. “I can’t risk losing them.”

  “This club has your back, VP,” Rogue said. “Nothing will happen to them. You get up there and kill that motherfucker who killed your old man. Then get back here.”

  “That’s the plan,” Talon said.

  The door opened again and out poured the rest of the club.

  Someone jammed a shot glass into Talon’s hand, ordering him to drink.

  Talon raised the glass and looked around at his brothers.

  This was family.

  And so was Fiona and Bret.

  Something inside him just wanted it all to be right and be perfect... which didn’t exist in the world he lived in.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Talon thought of this short goodbye as he now rode alone along the road that was to take him to the joint, so nobody else got dragged down into the bullshit. This was personal now. The Bratva heat would keep burning, only getting hotter. They’d do everything to squeeze the MC out of every dime it had before blowing the place up. Same with those dirty Dogs. They were sniffing around for the scraps left behind after Hammer’s death. The club would deal with that as it happened. The Dogs were rough to deal with and the Bratva worse. Maybe there was a way to put them both against each other and let them kill each other.

  But this thing... going to prison? This was personal. And maybe a little MC business on the side.

  Old man Stevens had been a thorn in the side of the MC for a long time. His brother was a judge and had deep pockets and deeper connections. The old man knew how to use a camera and sniff around. He’d been a PI for a while before falling in love with a woman who didn’t know who he was. His picture taking and stalking ability took a turn for the worse and soon his brother was bailing his ass out of a long prison sentence. That left the old man with nothing to do but bother the MC. Killing him wasn’t an option because his brother would start a legal war that nobody wanted. But thanks to old man Steven, half of the Princes of Hell had seen time behind a jail cell thanks to his pictures and meddling.

  So breaking into his house and roughing shit up wasn’t going to put an ounce of guilt on Talon’s black heart. He kicked through the kitchen window without a care. He flipped the kitchen table and ran through the downstairs swinging and breaking anything that could be broken.

  It took the old man a few minutes to hobble his way down the stairs before Talon put his head down and charged at him, knocking him down to the stairs. Talon made sure to keep his black skull cap pulled down as far as he could without suffocating himself. And he kept the black hood of his hoodie up for good measure too. He wanted to be visible but not too much.

  “Fucking asshole,” Talon growled in a voice different than his own. “You’re going to fucking die if keep you this shit up. Stay out of everyone’s business. You old pervert.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Steven yelled. “I’ll call the police.”

  Talon walked around to the kitchen and got the phone off the wall. He threw it at Steven’s head.

  “Ow!” Steven cried out.

  “Make the call. Right now.”

  Talon went back to work at the house, ransacking it. He made sure Steven saw his leather cut, putting the bullseye on his own back. But this was all part of the plan.

  For one last good measure, Talon opened the front door and put his foot through the glass storm door. Then he left the house, climbed on his motorcycle, and took off. The engine roaring into the night, knowing the police would be hot on his tail soon enough.

  His heart raced with fury as he smiled. This kind of stuff made him think of the old days in life. When he and Rogue used to go out and do that kind of shit all the time. Busting up drug deals and gun buys and all kinds of wild shit that would help the MC step in and take control. Shit, with the spirit of his old man in his veins, Talon should have had a cut long before he was offered one. It never bothered Talon because if talks came up, Talon shut them down, wanting to keep living that wild life of being a complete outlaw. No leather cut. No care. Just his urge to destroy things and then go home, throw Fiona to the bed and have her.

  Fiona...

  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  Eagle had made the call that both Fiona and Bret were to be protected by the MC. And the guys would stay loyal to their VP, meaning they’d take a bullet for Fiona or Bret.

  No matter what, Talon still needed to kiss her. Tell her he loved her. Goddammit, he loved her. And he wanted to look Bret in the eyes, man to kid, and make him a promise that he was going to be okay in all of this.

  Talon took the back roads to his place, where he had Fiona and Bret were staying again. The apartment had been cleaned up and Talon sent out two prospects to make sure they got every possible toy for Bret to play with. The apartment was theirs now. Complete with matching curtains and linen smelling candles and all that womanly shit.

  As Talon, knocked on the door, he took out his key and gently opened it. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s just me,” he called out.

  Fiona stood at the sink, a knife in her hand. She let out a long sigh and put it on the counter. “Fuck, Talon,” she said.

  “I gave warning.” He grinned.

  “I hate this,” she said and waved the knife.

  “Put it down and take a breath.” He entered the apartment and smelled something like cinnamon. “You look sexy holding a knife.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that,” she said.

  “Where’s the kid?”

  “In the bedroom,” she said.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Everything okay?” Fiona called out.

  “Fine,” Talon said in a cold voice. He walked into the bedroom.

  Bret sat on his knees on the bed, holding a dinosaur in the air, making it do flip after flip. “Oh, now you’re dead, man.” Bret brought the dinosaur to the bed. He picked up an action figure and in a deep, kid voice, he said, “I am the winner of this war. No more robot dinosaurs allowed.”

  “Tough gig there, huh?” Talon asked.

  Bret looked up at him. “Talon.”

  “Hey, buddy. Can we talk for a second?”

  “Okay,” Bret said.

  Talon walked to the bed and sat down. There was a moment when Talon stared at the kid and it did something to him. He felt his heart swell up a little. As though he loved the kid for some damn reason.

  Talon figured it was just the understanding of not having a father. This kid’s father was some asshole who dumped his load into Fiona and left. Then again, Fiona was the one who spread her legs, right?

  And damn, did that piss Talon off.

  He didn’t want to imagine someone touching Fiona. Ever.

  “I have to take a little trip,” Talon said. “Not sure how long I’ll be. But I want you to know I’m not leaving. I’m coming back. I won’t leave you or your mother. And my guys are going to take care of you. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Bret said. “Where are you going?”

  “A trip.”

  “A vacation?”

  “A work trip.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “I need you to be strong, Bret. I need you to be super strong.”

  “Like you?”

  “Like me,” Talon said.

  “I don’t have muscles.”

  “Show me your arm, buddy.”

  Bret flexed his arm.

  Talon put his hand up. “Whoa, Bret. That’s... insane. You’re freaking huge. I bet you can arm wrestle me and win.”

  “No way.”

  “Come on,” Talon said. He fell to his knees and put his elbow on the bed. “You and me.”

  Bret got on his stomach and locked his tiny hand to Talon’s massive hand.

  “Go,” Talon stated.

  With a breath, Talon could take Bret’s hand down. Anyone with two eyes knew that was obvious. But Talon gritted his teeth and grunted as he fe
lt Bret pressing at his hand. Little by little, Talon’s hand fell down until it touched the bed.

  Bret gasped and his eyes went wide.

  “Holy moly, buddy, you just beat me!” Talon exclaimed.

  “I beat you...” Bret stared at his hand. “I really beat you.”

  “See how tough you are. You take care of your mother. Promise me.”

  “I promise,” Bret said. “Wow...”

  Talon stood up, grinning.

  Why do I feel like I should love this kid?

  Talon exited the bedroom and saw Fiona standing a few feet away.

  With tears in her eyes.

  Fiona heard the entire thing.

  He wasn’t just a bad ass outlaw. He was a bad ass father too.

  Now it was time for the truth.

  “You okay?”

  “You’re good with him.”

  “He’s a kid,” Talon said. “I need him to be strong. You too.”

  “You said something about going away?”

  “Yeah,” Talon said. “That’s why I’m here right now. I need to talk to you, Fiona. I need you to know something.”

  “I need to tell you something too... about Bret.”

  “What about him?” Talon asked.

  “You first.”

  “No fucking way.” He moved at Fiona and grabbed her by the hips. His strength was insane as he drove her back toward the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

  “Talon...”

  Behind them, the apartment door thudded with a heavy knock.

  Talon walked to the door and ripped it open.

  A police officer stood there.

  “Werley,” Talon said. “Fuck. Give me a minute.”

  “Can’t do that.” The officer entered the apartment.

  “Wait a second,” Talon said.

  “I have four guys out there. Don’t make this bad.”

  “Talon?” Fiona asked. Her heart was pounding.

  “She doesn’t know yet, Werley,” Talon said. “Give me a second here.”

  The officer reached back and shut the door. “One minute.”

  “Fiona, this is Chief Werley,” Talon said. “He’s a fucking prick. He’s going to take me to jail.”

  “To jail?” Fiona cried out. “Why?”

  “Long list of charges,” Werley answered.

  Talon walked to Fiona and grasped her arms. “Listen to me, sweetheart. I have to do this. I can’t explain it. But this is a club thing. I wanted to tell you and Bret. I have to go.”

  “Come on, Talon,” Werley said. “You’re making me look bad here. My guys are going to bust in soon. I don’t want to scare the kid.”

  Fiona looked back and saw Bret standing in the doorway to the bedroom. “Go back in the room, sweet bear,” she called out.

  “It’s okay, buddy,” Talon said. “I’m going on that trip now.”

  Bret backed up.

  “Look at me, Fiona.” Talon cupped her face in his hands. “Everything will be okay. The club will protect you and Bret. I promise. You’ll hear from me soon.” He kissed her.

  “Time’s up,” Chief Werley said.

  Talon stepped back and put his hands behind his back.

  Fiona felt tears fill her eyes as she watched Talon get handcuffed.

  “What did you have to tell me?” Talon asked.

  “No...”

  “Fiona...”

  “Bret,” she said.

  “What about him?”

  “He’s your son,” Fiona blurted out, relieving the eight hundred pound weight off her chest. “He’s your son! I’ve never been with anyone else but you.”

  Talon looked stunned as he stepped forward.

  The apartment door opened and in came four more officers. Fiona saw the way Chief Werley’s demeanor changed.

  He pulled at Talon’s wrists. “Come on, asshole. We’re out of here.”

  “Fucking wait a second!” Talon roared.

  Now he had four officers and Chief Werley pushing him out the door.

  Fiona ran after them. “I’m sorry, Talon. I didn’t know this was going to ha—”

  “Are you fucking sure about this?” Talon called out.

  “He’s your son. There’s no other way. I swear on my life. I swear on his life.”

  Talon wrested himself free and ran back to Fiona.

  “I’m scared,” Fiona said as her whole body shook.

  “Don’t be scared. You’re my family, Fi. You always have been. I’ll be back for you. Both of you. My woman. And my son.”

  One of the officers pulled him back. Talon roared as he struggled. The officer punched Talon in the jaw while the others all but tackled him.

  They dragged him away as Fiona stood there, covering her mouth, tears running down her cheeks.

  Talon now knew the deepest truth about her and Bret...and instead of being able to talk to her to ask her what happened—he was going to jail.

  But for how long?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Talon had his own cell with his own privacy until he was woken to the sound of the door opening and two men the size of eighteen wheelers came into the cell with homemade knives carved from some kind of wood, hell bent on gutting him. He woke at the last second, was able to kick, punch and knock one of the guys out, but not before taking a hit to his right side. That fiery feeling of his flesh ripping away was all too familiar to him.

  Guards came and took the second guy down.

  Before he was taken away, he looked at Talon and growled something in Russian.

  That gave way who the two men were and why they were there.

  The Bratva was making their presence known inside these walls too.

  But that was a while ago.

  Now Talon was in a new part of the jail.

  Resting on the top bunk listening to Will on the bottom bunk as he faced the stone wall, taking care of personal business as he enjoyed to do more often than Talon cared to hear. Will ran protection for the MC on the inside. He was seven feet of muscle, fat, and attitude. He could pop someone’s head like a balloon and had no problem doing it. His sentence was a life sentence, so the only thing waiting for him was death.

  The squeaky mattress died down and Talon swung his legs over the top of the bunk. “You good, man?”

  “Yup,” Will said.

  “I need get moving here. I need to see Johnny.”

  Will’s head appeared from the bottom bunk. “You fucking kidding?”

  “It’s been long enough. I can’t fuck around anymore.” Talon pushed himself off the bunk and his bare feet slapped the floor. “I’m not here on vacation, brother. I have shit to get done and then I gotta get back to my kid.”

  My kid...

  Talon had dropped that line too many times.

  It still hadn’t fully sunk in.

  Bret was his son. And Fiona confessed there had never been another man but him. That meant even after she caught him slamming into some kittie she left him and stayed loyal. She also didn’t know he hadn’t been balls deep in that chick. But he had been with others since then. He figured it couldn’t matter now. For her to know he did it the way he did, that it had all been fake. She had been carrying Bret at that time too. She went through that pregnancy alone. Birthing him alone. Raising him alone. Living on the edge of freedom and death, trying to make ends meet and feed a kid.

  This made Talon a piece of shit. But he was an outlaw. His heart was created differently, molded differently, and it worked differently.

  He’d figure out this kid stuff when he got out of prison.

  But that was the bigger problem.

  It left him uneasy. Fiona was out there, exposed, protected by the club, but she was raising Talon’s kid. He knew damn well if any of his brothers tried to touch her, he’d kill whoever it was. But Fiona had a history of running. That was her style. That’s what made her and Talon work. The chase that always ended up between the sheets. Only now, they were a family...

  “Deep thoughts, my friend?
” Will asked as he stood up. His round shoulders were covered in faded tattoos and a thick coat of hair. He stunk like a dead deer on the side of the road. But anyone that dared point that out wouldn’t be talking for months. One punch from Will to the jaw and your jaw would sound like a sack of marbles.

  “Life, brother. I got a family out there.”

  “Yeah, you do. So what the fuck you doing in here?”

  “Serving my time,” Talon said.

  Will laughed a deep laugh that almost shook the dust off the walls. “Bullshit on that. You can come and go as you please.”

  “And right now, I want to talk to Johnny. That a problem?”

  “Hardly,” Will said as he walked to the cell door and let out a whistle. A few seconds later a guard appeared. This little guy dressed in all black, with a black baseball cap far down over his eyes. He opened the door and gave a nod to Will as he exited. When Talon tried to exit, the guard stepped in front of him.

  “What the fuck do you want?” Talon asked.

  “What do you have for me?” the guard asked.

  “Morning breath, body odor, and I have the urge to shit,” Talon said. “Pick your poison.”

  “Protection, Talon. Inside. And out.”

  “Fuck yourself,” Talon said.

  “Want to get back in that bed, prisoner?”

  One of Will’s massive paws came down on the guard’s shoulder. “Problem here?”

  “No,” Talon said. “We’re negotiating.”

  “Finish the deal later,” Will said as he ripped the guard away like he was a toy soldier.

  See, in prison for the VP of the Princes of Hell, it was a double edge sword. He had the run of the place. He could come and go as he pleased. Anywhere he wanted. He had the best meals, all the free time he wanted, and any amenity he could ask for. In some ways, it was a glorified vacation. But with that came a big target. Everyone wanted to kill Talon. From the Bratva to the Dogs to the street scum serving years for drugs and hookers, they all knew if they could kill Talon, it would send a signal to their bosses on the outside. Talon was almost a trophy.

  A get out of jail card to a lot of people.

  On top of that, he missed his leather cut.

  Wearing the red jumpsuit didn’t feel right. Being reduced to a number and the initials of the prison painted on his clothing wasn’t going to cut it for the rest of his life.