Chase (Savage Kings MC Book 1)

by Lane Hart

  “What?” I ask.

  “Torin’s unable to lead, so it falls on Chase’s shoulders. He’s the man in charge now,” he explains.

  “Really? You think so?” I ask. “Chase hasn’t mentioned it.”

  “My youngest son isn’t cut out to run things. He’ll need you to help him stay level,” Mr. Fury tells me. “Take care of my boy.”

  “I will,” I agree, even though I’m starting to worry even more about what these changes in the club mean for Chase and me.

  …

  Chase

  I take my usual seat at the table, leaving Torin’s chair at the head of the table empty. It still belongs to him, and I know he will be back. In the meantime, I guess that means I’m the one who will be calling the shots.

  And fuck me, but I’m already feeling the pressure of everyone’s eyes on me, like they know I’m not equal to the load I’m about to try and lift.

  Picking up the president flash from the table, I rub it between my fingers, and then tell the group, “Given what happened yesterday, Torin has decided to step down.”

  There are murmurs around the table.

  “I’m not taking over for him. I won’t even take his seat, but I will be the club’s leader until he’s able to come back,” I tell them. Lifting my eyes to look at every single man one at a time, I give them the cold, hard truth. “Over the next few days, weeks, hell, maybe even months, this club is going to be in an all-out war with Hector Cruz. The fucker’s apparently overlooked the word Savage in our goddamn names. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been stupid enough to kill one of our old ladies on our fucking turf. He has to pay for what he did. The reasons why the feud with him started don’t matter anymore. I accept responsibility for the role I played, but if he wanted to kill someone, it should’ve been me, not an innocent woman and her unborn child.” Taking a deep breath, I add, “I want every single one of you to think carefully from now until the funeral. We always talk about loyalty and brotherhood, but now it’s time to step up and back those words up with action. Dig deep and decide if you’re ready to kill for this MC and die for your brothers. Going forward, both those things aren’t possibilities; they’re certainties.”

  Some of the guys slap their palms on the table over and over again as a show of their support and agreement.

  “We’ll meet again the night of the funeral, and I only want to see men who are ready for war at this table.”

  More hands join in slapping the table.

  “I don’t need the time to think. Count me in,” Abe says from my left.

  “I’m in,” Sax agrees from the other side of him.

  “Me too,” Dalton adds.

  “I can’t wait to kill some fucking rat bastards,” Miles says.

  “Let’s do this,” Gabe agrees. “For Kennedy.”

  “For Kennedy,” Reece agrees.

  “For Torin and Kennedy,” Cooper speaks up as the table comes back around to him, sitting next to War’s empty chair.

  “I know War and Torin are in,” I tell him. “The other chapters will be coming into town from across the country for the funeral. We’ll see who wants to join us. If nothing else, we could use the other members to keep the police out while we hit the motherfucker.”

  “Agreed,” the guys say.

  Reaching for the gavel, the wooden handle feels all wrong in my hand. Still, I slam it down, calling an end to our meeting.

  “You’ve got this, brother,” Abe says when I get to my feet, and he stands up to clasp me on the back.

  “We’ll see,” I tell him. “Now, I have to call the funeral home and see when I can bring Torin in to make arrangements,” I grumble. “It’s so fucking wrong. Even seeing her in the hospital and saying goodbye, I can’t believe she’s gone.”

  “Fuck, me either,” Abe replies. “I couldn’t sleep last night, kept seeing that damn scene outside in the parking lot over and over again. Kennedy bleeding and none of us being able to do a goddamn thing to stop it.”

  “I hate you had to witness that,” I tell him.

  “I’m pretty sure that shit is gonna haunt me for the rest of my life,” he says with a shake of his head.

  “You need something to help you sleep? My dad or Sasha can probably hook you up with some pills,” I tell Abe.

  “Nah, man. I’m gonna go find some tits to drown myself in for a little while, see if that helps.”

  “Good luck,” I tell him, thinking he’s a lucky bastard.

  I’d rather be losing myself in Sasha right now, but my head’s not in it, and I’ve got too much shit to do. I need to find my brother and take him to pick out a casket.

  Going back to my room, I pull my phone off the charger and then call War.

  “Yeah?” he asks, sounding dead tired.

  “Where are you?” I ask.

  “Torin’s house.”

  “Really?” I ask, surprised he’d want to go back there so soon.

  “Or I guess I should’ve said what’s left of it,” War adds.

  “Fuck,” I grumble as I scrub my hand down my face. “How bad is it?”

  “It’s still standing,” he answers. “I tried to talk him out of it, told him that in a few days he would regret it, but he wouldn’t listen. I figured he needs the physical exertion.”

  “Has he slept any?” I ask.

  “No. He was up shooting rounds out back until we ran out of ammo. He’s gonna crash soon, and hard.”

  “I know,” I agree. “I’m on my way over so that you can go home and rest.”

  “Appreciate it. I really wanna hug my kid, you know?”

  “Yeah, man, I get it,” I tell him. “See you in a few.”

  I start to find Sasha before I leave the bar, but for some reason that I can’t put my finger on, seeing her right now is just too fucking hard. Probably because I can’t stop thinking that it could’ve been her in that hospital bed and that if she stays with me, one of these days it likely will be.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sasha

  “So, you and Chase went out in high school?” one of the club girls asks while I’m washing dishes and she’s rinsing and drying. Cynthia, I believe is her name.

  “Yeah, we did,” I reply with a smile as I scrub the coffee pot. “We dated a little over six months.”

  “What happened? Why did you split up?” she asks. “It must have been serious if he got your name inked on his chest.”

  “We had a wreck one night when we were out on his bike, the night he got that ink,” I admit to her. “I was hurt pretty bad, had to have a few surgeries. After all these years, I thought he didn’t want to see me, but it turns out my parents told him I blamed him and didn’t want to see him. Which were flat out lies. They ruined what we had with just a few words…”

  “So that’s why he doesn’t let anyone on the back of his bike,” she says while she rinses out the coffee pot to get the suds out.

  “He doesn’t?”

  “Nope.”

  “Ever?” I ask as I hand her a sudsy coffee mug.

  “No. He rides alone, always has since I’ve been coming around. The other girls that have been here longer say that it’s a no-go. And that he only likes blondes, so not to waste my time.”

  “Oh really?” I reply.

  “Yeah. But Abe likes redheads, so it’s all good,” she says with a grin.

  “So I’ve heard,” I say as I grab the next dish, a frying pan to scrub. “He’s a good guy, right?” I ask.

  “Who? Abe? Oh, yeah, he’s great. He’s the only one who actually likes to cuddle afterward.”

  “Really? That’s surprising. Although, he does look like a big bear.”

  “Yeah, he’s a big ole teddy bear,” Cynthia agrees with a grin.

  “Have you, you know, been with the other guys?” I ask curiously.

  “Not all of them. Never Torin or Chase, of course; but I’ve been with Sax and Miles a few times.”

  “Wow,” I mutter. “And you don’t mind them…sharing you?
”

  “God, no,” she replies without hesitation. “It’s no different than dating a few different men. Just so happens the men I date know each other.”

  “Yeah, but don’t you eventually want more?” I ask.

  “Well, yeah,” she says. “That’s why I sleep with them. Hopefully one will keep me in his bed and never let me go.”

  Poor girl. I don’t want to bust her bubble, but I don’t think it works like that with these guys.

  “What if none of them ever want to settle down with you?” I ask.

  “Then I’ll have had enough great sex to last me the rest of my life.”

  Can’t disagree with that since Chase is a much better lover than the other men I’ve been with. But that’s not the only reason I love him. He’s sweet and hard headed and loyal. Chase looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world and like he would do anything under the sun for me. What woman doesn’t want that?

  …

  Chase

  As soon as I pull my bike into Torin’s driveway, War comes out the side door and down the stairs, probably having heard my muffler a mile back.

  “I love your brother, but he’s all yours now,” War says as he passes me and climbs on his ride.

  “Thanks, man,” I say before he cranks it up.

  The fact that War, my brother’s best friend, was so ready to leave means it must be bad.

  Holden and Maddox both look pitiful as they each sit on different steps out front, leaning their heads against the rails. “You guys can go home and get some rest,” I tell them. “We’ll take Torin’s SUV when we leave, and I’ll call you tonight when I need you back on him.”

  “Yes, sir,” they both murmur before they trudge down the steps and ride off in the MC’s van.

  Walking into Torin and Kennedy’s home, knowing how happy it was a few days ago and that it’ll never be that way again is agonizing. Even though I was a miserable sack of shit without Sasha these last few years, it was nice to know that my brother had someone he loved and who loved him back just as much. Now, he’s lost everything that mattered to him, other than the MC, which he’s trying to pull away from.

  I don’t hear anything as I step into the house, so I call out, “Torin?”

  He doesn’t answer. I walk past each room until I finally find him. He’s sitting on the floor in the nursery. His back is resting against the crib, and he’s holding one of the black and white sonograms of the baby that Kennedy framed.

  Looking up at me through glassy, red-rimmed eyes with bags underneath that are as big as carry-on luggage, Torin says, “I didn’t want to be a father. The day Kennedy told me she was pregnant, I was shocked and scared. I was a complete asshole.”

  “That’s probably the same thing every man experiences when he’s told that news,” I assure him.

  “I should’ve been excited. I was married to the most incredible woman in the world, and my first reaction was to want to bail.”

  “You didn’t, though,” I point out.

  “I know why. The first time I went to the doctor with Kennedy and saw the baby on the screen, I fell in love with it. Didn’t know if it was a boy or girl, and I didn’t care. It was ours.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I agree. “I’m sorry, Torin.”

  “I was a horrible husband. If Kennedy knew…”

  “You weren’t a horrible husband. And Kennedy knew you loved her. She loved you too, more than anything.”

  “And look how that ended for her,” he grumbles before he throws the picture against the wall, making me wince when it shatters. There’s something horrible about the sound of glass breaking; maybe it’s because you know, once it’s broken, you can never put the shards back together. They’ll cut you and make you bleed, but they won’t glue back into one piece again.

  It reminds me of the night I broke into Sasha’s house and scared her. I cringed the same way when I heard the wine bottle break, because I was worried she would hurt herself and it would be my fault. It is always my fault when she gets hurt.

  “The, um, the funeral home said that you could come by any time today,” I tell Torin, who nods from his seat. “We can go now, or you can try to get some sleep and we can go later.”

  “I don’t want to go,” he replies.

  “You wanna wait until tomorrow?” I ask. “I know it sucks, but we need to make all the arrangements. The other charters are calling, wanting to know…”

  “No, I mean I don’t want to make the arrangements.”

  Fuck.

  “Don’t check out on me, man,” I tell him. “I can help you, but I can’t do it all myself.”

  Torin doesn’t respond for a while before he says, “If I could go back in time, I’d call off our wedding…”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” I tell him on a heavy exhale.

  “Yes, I would’ve. I almost did. That morning, there was this gnawing in my gut telling me to bail, to leave because I didn’t deserve her after what I did. I should’ve listened. I just couldn’t stand the thought of her hating me for not showing up at the altar, you know? And she would have. God, she would’ve killed me if I had bailed.”

  “If you had bailed, you wouldn’t have had the time you did with her,” I point out.

  “I’d rather have nothing with her than this,” he says. “This empty fucking house that I didn’t spend enough time with her in. And this empty fucking hole inside of me that hurts with every fucking breath I try and take.”

  Going over, I grab his arm and try to pull him to his feet. “Come on,” I say, unable to listen to anything else. It’s too raw and too painful to hear.

  “Leave me the fuck alone,” he growls.

  “No. Get the fuck up. We’re going to make arrangements, and then you’re gonna get some sleep, even if I have to knock you out to make it happen.”

  Finally, he stops fighting against me and lets me pull him to his feet.

  “I wish everyone would leave me the hell alone,” he says.

  “Come with me to the funeral home, and then I’ll take you to the farmhouse. No one will be able to find you or talk to you, and you won’t be surrounded by all of this,” I say as I gesture around the room with my arms.

  This house isn’t good for Torin. There are too many memories. He’s suffocating in them here. So tonight, once the tough part is over, I’ll take him to the empty house we grew up in before he ever met Kennedy.

  And when he’s not looking, I’ll crush some sleeping pills up and put them in his drink. If he doesn’t get some sleep soon, I’m afraid he’s gonna lose his goddamn mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sasha

  “Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen Chase?” I ask Abe after I look all over the bar and downstairs for him. That’s why I hated to do it, but I knocked on Abe’s door and interrupted him getting ‘consoled’ by Cynthia.

  “He slipped out on me earlier,” Abe tells me, holding a towel around his waist.

  “Well, where did he go?” I ask.

  “Dunno. I sent him a text, but he didn’t respond,” he says. “Figured he didn’t want me tagging along.”

  “He didn’t answer my texts either,” I say in concern. “What about his dad? Do you have his number?”

  “Ah, yeah. Hang on.” He shuts the door and then returns a minute later with his phone in his hand and calls out Mr. Fury’s number.

  “Thanks, and sorry again for bothering you,” I tell Abe as I walk off, trying to call Chase’s dad.

  “Hello?” he answers.

  “Mr. Fury, hi, it’s Sasha,” I say.

  “Oh, hi, Sasha.”

  “Sorry to call you, but I was wondering if you’ve seen Chase.”

  “Oh, yeah,” he replies. “We just left him and Torin at the funeral home. They were finishing up the paperwork.”

  “Oh,” I mutter, glad to know where he is but wondering why he didn’t tell me he was leaving, or ask me to go with him. Maybe he thought it would be best to go alone with Torin and his dad.
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br />   “Do you know if they’re coming back here to the clubhouse?” I ask.

  “Nah, I think Chase was gonna take Torin to our old house and stay there with him so he can rest. Torin asked that everyone give him a little time alone.”

  “Right, of course,” I say in understanding. “Then I’ll just stay here and wait for Chase to call.”

  “Sounds good, doll. Take care of yourself,” Mr. Fury tells me.

  “You too,” I say before I end the call.

  Earlier I was worried that Chase was keeping things from me, and now he up and left without telling me. I don’t mind that he’s with Torin; I just would’ve liked to know so I wouldn’t worry about him. Hector is obviously crazy, and Chase could be in danger.

  I just hope that everything is okay with us and that I’m overreacting.

  The problem is that I can’t help but think that Chase is pulling away from me because he’s still worried about me getting hurt. Does he think that what happened to Kennedy could happen to me? Of course, it could, but that doesn’t mean it will.

  I love Chase enough to stay with him even knowing all the risks associated with him being in the MC.

  The question is, does he love me enough to handle me being a part of his outlaw life?

  …

  Chase

  When we got to the farmhouse, Torin finally asked for something to drink. That’s when I found some Benadryl, chopped it up and put it in his beer bottle.

  I feel bad for drugging my brother, but he needs to take a few hours off from destroying shit and finally get some rest.

  At least he didn’t break anything at the funeral home before I got him out of there.

  Now he’s passed out on the sofa, snoring, and I feel like I’ve been run over by a goddamn bulldozer.

  When I pull out my phone, I notice several texts from Sasha and Abe. Since my battery is low, I message Abe back that I’m crashing at the farmhouse and I’ll see him tomorrow. Then, I step out on the front porch to call Sasha.