Breaking Chains (Fallen Saints MC Book 4)

by Winter Sloane

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2021 Winter Sloane

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0317-6

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  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.

  BREAKING CHAINS

  Fallen Saints MC, 4

  Winter Sloane

  Copyright © 2021

  Chapter One

  With a long sigh, Chains took another pull of his beer. He knew he should stop drinking, but he had a hard time breaking the habit. The amber liquid tasted cool on his tongue.

  If he continued at this pace, he’d end up on a downward spiral like his old man. His father was born into the MC life just like Chains. However, death by motorcycle accident wasn’t the way Chains wanted to go. He finished the rest of his bottle in one gulp.

  Iron took a seat next to him, interrupting his line of thoughts. Huh. Chains barely noticed he had company. He must really be hammered. His MC brother leveled him a serious stare. That told him Iron was about to deliver bad news.

  “What?” he asked, almost slurring his words. Chains immediately hated himself for showing weakness.

  “Tank’s in the hospital.” Iron paused, watching for his reaction.

  It always annoyed him that some of his MC brothers treated him like a live bomb about to blow up at any moment. Chains couldn’t blame them. He’d been in a funk for a few months now. There was no rhyme or reason for it.

  Chains just didn’t know the direction his life was heading. He didn’t understand what the hell was wrong with him either. He didn’t just love the MC life, he embraced it. Belonging to the Fallen Saints MC gave him purpose, but he was beginning to lose his way. He focused on what Iron was saying.

  Tank. In the hospital.

  “How?” he asked.

  Iron knew Tank and he were tight. Tank and he became prospects at the same time. They rose through the MC ranks together. Chains was closer to Tank than his own blood brother.

  “Three Red Dragons MC members ganged up on him while he was at the gas station,” Iron said.

  Chains swore. His rage spiked up, like a living storm inside his skin. A few weeks ago, their MC went neck-to-neck with the other rival MC. Their President, Saint, shot Rooster, the Red Dragons MC’s President in cold blood. With the head of the snakes cut off, Chains thought the Red Dragons would scatter, would no longer pose a threat to them. Chains guessed he was wrong.

  For a second, he couldn’t think, couldn’t form the words he wanted to say.

  Iron awkwardly patted his shoulder. Chains flung his hand aside.

  “He’s a little bit up, but Olivia says he’ll be up and walking in a few weeks,” Iron said.

  He breathed in and out, trying to get a handle on his rage. Lashing out at Iron wouldn’t get him anywhere, or the information he needed.

  Olivia was Saint’s old lady and she worked as a nurse at the local hospital. Chains liked her. She didn’t mince words. Some days, he found himself a little envious of Saint, Devil, and all the others who’d found a woman to spend the rest of their lives with. That was only wishful thinking. Chains wasn’t wired that way. He couldn’t imagine being stuck with one woman his entire life.

  Chains shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about pussy. Right now, Tank needed him.

  “I’m heading to the hospital,” he announced.

  “You’re drunk. You can’t ride there,” Iron interjected.

  He glowered at him. “I’ll be fine. Leave me the fuck alone.”

  Chains got off the barstool. He swayed slightly on his feet. Thank God it was only Iron with him in the MC clubhouse. He didn’t want his other brothers seeing him like this. They all knew he had a little drinking problem of course, but who didn’t? Half the MC members were addicted to one thing or the other. Sex, drugs, booze, and gambling. Chains was no different from the rest of them. Iron had no right to judge him or anyone else.

  He heard Iron’s footsteps behind him and Chains bared his teeth. His Harley was just a few feet from him, but he had a feeling Iron wasn’t going anywhere. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

  “I can’t let you ride to the hospital alone. What if you get into an accident?” Iron demanded. “We’ll take my bike.”

  “Fuck yourself.” Inwardly, Chains knew Iron was concerned about him. He’d been unmanageable, a beast to deal with lately. Right now, he didn’t care.

  “You want to go out like your old man?” Iron asked in a quiet voice.

  Like Chains, Iron’s old man was also born into the MC. Their no-good fathers knew each other.

  Chains gave Iron a shove at those words. How dare he bring up the past? He balled his fists against his sides. He didn’t have time for this useless pissing contest with him. His friend was hurting in the hospital. Chains envisioned crashing his bike into an eighteen-wheeler and the rest of his MC brothers finding his crushed body under the wheels.

  He reeled in his temper. His anger always got the better of him. Chains knew that. Iron was only trying to help. Iron cared about Tank, too. The hunger to find out what happened to Tank overcame everything else. Screw his pride. Iron was right. He was too tipsy to ride.

  “Fine, but if you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you,” Chains said in an empty voice.

  Iron looked bored by his threat. He gestured to his own Harley. “Get on.”

  It took thirty minutes to get to St. Luke’s. Once Iron found a spot at the parking lot, Chains immediately got off. He didn’t wait for Iron. He strode straight to the reception desk, relieved to see Olivia manning the desk. St. Luke’s was always understaffed, he remembered. Olivia must’ve seen the expression on his face because she told him immediately, “He’s in room 1C. It’s in the west wing of the hospital. Turn right, then left.”

  “Thanks, Olivia.”

  Chains made his way to his friend’s room. He grimaced, seeing Tank. His entire face was puffy. Bandages covered Tank’s body. His right arm and left leg were in a cast. He looked like a fucking mess. Chains gritted his teeth. Tank must’ve heard him enter because he turned his attention to him.

  “Hey,” Tank rasped. “I fucked up.”

  “I can see that.” Chains took the chair next to the bed.

  He had plenty of unspent energy. Chains wanted to punch or knife someone. Seeing the man who was like a favorite brother to him all beaten up and broken only stoked the fires of his growing rage. Chains wanted vengeance for his friend. He’d make the bastards who hurt Tank bleed and suffer. They didn’t deserve a clean death for what they’d done to Tank.

  “Tell me about your attackers,” Chains pressed.

  He knew he should let Tank rest, but he needed more information. After Saint eliminated Rooster, everyone thought the Red Dragons MC wouldn’t have the balls to try anything again.

  “There were three of them. I don’t recognize the other two, but I know the leader. He’s Bulldog, Rooster’s son.”

  “You sure about that?” This was good. Tank remembered one of his attackers.

  Tank let out a dry laugh. “That facial tattoo of his is a damn eyesore.”

  Chains tried to remember what he knew about Bulldog. Saint didn’t do things half-assed. He had their reside
nt hacker Wizard find out everything he could about their rival MC club.

  They all knew the faces and names of the men in the Red Dragons MC. Bulldog had a reputation as black as tar, just like his father. Chains cracked his knuckles. He no longer felt drunk. Adrenaline surged through his entire system. His thirst for vengeance fueled him.

  He wanted nothing more than to get back at the fuckers who hurt his friend.

  “I’ll get Wizard to look into Bulldog. Find out where he lives,” Iron chimed in.

  Iron and he traded looks of understanding. They wanted justice for their fallen brother. Not fallen, he reminded himself. Tank survived. Letting him live had been a mistake. Did they beat him up and abandon him because they were sending some kind of fucked-up message?

  “I think they were planning to kill me,” Tank said, answering his unasked question. “But they fled when they spotted an approaching police cruiser. Deputy Murphy brought me here. He was the one who phoned Iron.”

  Deputy Murphy was one of the local cops under their payroll, Chains recalled. Chains doubted the deputy saved Tank out of the goodness of his heart. He probably did it out of fear and greed. It didn’t matter now.

  Iron finally got off the phone while Chains sat with Tank. He didn’t know how long he stayed rooted to his chair, saying nothing. Olivia entered the room to check on Tank. She also changed Tank’s bandages.

  “He’ll really make a full recovery?” he asked her.

  “He was lucky. He suffered no concussions, but it will take time for his broken arm and leg to heal,” she told him. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep a close eye on him.”

  “I know you will,” Chains said with a nod.

  Like the other MC members, he’d been initially apprehensive of Olivia when Saint started dating her. It turned out having a nurse on their side had been really good for the MC. Olivia had proven her loyalty a thousand times. She never hesitated to help an injured MC member. Most importantly, as Saint’s old lady, she kept her mouth shut about MC affairs. She was truly old lady material.

  “Just got word from Saint,” Iron said after Olivia left the room. Tank had fallen into a deep sleep and started to snore. Chains and Iron left the room to give him some privacy.

  “What did Saint say?” he asked. Their bonds of brotherhood were unbreakable. When an enemy hurt one of their own, they retaliated in return. Always. Their enemies always ended up wishing they never went after them in the first place.

  “He told us we can do whatever we see fit to the fuckers responsible for putting Tank here,” Iron said.

  “And Wizard? Did he dig up anything useful on Bulldog?” he asked.

  “Speak of the devil,” Iron said as his phone rang.

  Chains paced the room as Iron spoke with Wizard. Iron finally ended the call and looked at him. “Wizard says the bastard owns two properties. A house in Mountain Lake and a cabin not far from the town.”

  “We’ll check out both locations,” he said. “But if his intention is to lay low, he’ll be hiding out in that cabin of his with his buddies.”

  Iron nodded. “You want to bring in more men into this? Our brothers would also want vengeance for Tank.”

  Chains mulled over his question. Tank mentioned only three men attacked him. There could be more, but he didn’t want to bring attention to the rest of the Fallen Saints MC either.

  “Two of us will do just fine,” he said. “We’ll scout the place first. If there’s too many of them, we’ll call for backup.”

  Iron nodded. “We’ll ride out to Mountain Lake first thing in the morning.”

  The town of Redemption was controlled by the Fallen Saints MC. Likewise, Mountain Lake used to be the headquarters of the Red Dragons MC. Chains used past tense because he knew local law enforcement had wrestled control of the town once Rooster was gone. Chains and Iron would just be doing the cops a favor by helping rid their town of some cockroaches.

  Chains cracked his knuckles. He wanted to head there right away. Finish this sorry business, but he knew now wasn’t the right time. He was still feeling a little drunk. Chains would pop some sleeping pills, get a good night’s rest, and tomorrow, Iron and he would kill the fuckers who’d injured Tank.

  “Looking forward to it,” he told Iron.

  Chapter Two

  Not for the first time, Tanya wished she was elsewhere. Anywhere but here, here being the miserable musty cabin she was holed up at with her brother and his biker friends.

  “Where’s my toast, you useless bitch?” Arrow demanded.

  “It’ll be done in five minutes,” she answered.

  Arrow threw a plate at her. She ducked, wincing as it hit the sink instead and shattered into a hundred little pieces.

  “Clean that mess up,” her half-brother Bulldog said, annoyance in his voice.

  He threw it, Tanya wanted to retort, but she knew opening her mouth would only get her in further trouble. She didn’t use to be this weak. Ever since her father Rooster died, things only took a nasty turn. Not that her life had been sunshine and roses from the beginning. If there was a contest, then Rooster would win the worst father of the year award. He hadn’t given two shits about her, but at least he’d left her alone.

  She grabbed a broom and cleaned up the broken plate. By the time she brought Arrow his toast, it was already burnt.

  “I’m not eating this shit. What are you trying to do, poison me?” Arrow said, grabbing her wrist. Her heart thumped. At least Rooster used to keep his men away from her. In his own twisted way, Rooster protected her. He’d been verbally abusive and awful, but he was the only family she ever had. Rooster and Bulldog.

  “Let go of me,” she whispered.

  Arrow tightened his grip on her wrist. She didn’t like the ugly gleam in his eyes. He’d been constantly eye-fucking her ever since the four of them moved to this godforsaken cabin in the woods. Why had she even agreed to come, to allow herself to be trapped in the first place?

  Bulldog’s words came back to her.

  “Because the Fallen Saints MC wants all of us dead, including you, dear sister.”

  Tanya didn’t get it at all. She was nobody, just a waitress barely making ends meets week after week. Being Rooster’s daughter didn’t make her special. It only made her a target to savages who lived and breathed violence. Bulldog painted the Fallen Saints MC as monsters. Tanya sometimes wondered if the enemy MC were worse than the Red Dragons or maybe they were the same. All of them were cut from the same cloth.

  “We don’t have time to screw around,” Buzz interrupted.

  Mercifully, Arrow released her. The three men started talking about what they’d done. Something stupid, no doubt. They didn’t include her in her plans. Tanya was just the equivalent of a maid. Maids got paid for their hard work at least. She was more of a servant.

  She returned to washing the dishes from last night. Ever since Rooster had been killed, her entire life had been uprooted. Bulldog had become super-paranoid. He insisted the Fallen Saints were out for all their blood. Tanya had probably lost her job at the diner by now. Nothing in her life was ever the same. There were no friends she could vent to because her father and half-brother always kept insisted family was the only thing she needed. The MC wasn’t her family. They were just a bunch of thugs and criminals who got their kicks breaking the law and making dirty money.

  “I told you we should’ve killed that fucker. He probably talked by now,” Buzz was saying.

  “Well, let him talk. Those bastards ought to know they’re not safe,” Arrow said.

  “Look, all we need to do is lay low. That’s all there is to it,” Bulldog said. “We’ll wait and grow our numbers. Once we’re a force to be reckoned with again, we’ll hit them good and hard.”

  Tanya rolled her eyes. She left the kitchen and started cleaning the living room. There were beer bottles and empty take-out boxes everywhere. Men are pigs, she thought, grabbing a black garbage bag. She tossed the trash inside. No matter how often she cleaned, Bulldog and his bud
dies just messed up everything the next day.

  Arrow laughed at a crude joke her half-brother made. So their serious discussion had concluded. Rooster was many things, but he was a better leader than Bulldog would ever hope to be. She loathed his guts and hated his men, but at least his men respected Rooster. Bulldog used his fists first before his brain.

  Tanya privately thought provoking the Fallen Saints MC was a stupid move. Sure, they killed Rooster and a couple of MC members, but Tanya wouldn’t be surprised. It was bound to happen sooner or later. The Red Dragons MC never lacked for enemies.

  “I’m heading to town to get some beer,” Buzz announced.

  “Are you stupid?” Bulldog asked.

  The two men emerged from the kitchen. Buzz was putting on his leather jacket.

  “Let Tanya get it,” Bulldog said. “She has nothing to do, anyway.”

  Except clean this filthy cabin, she thought dully. Tanya learned early that opening her mouth would only earn a cuff, punch, or slap from her brother. Bulldog thought he was the new king after their father had passed away. King of nothing, more like.

  “Nah, man. I’m sick of being cooped up all the fucking time,” Buzz argued.

  “Didn’t we have this discussion earlier? We’re supposed to be lying low,” Arrow added.

  Buzz gave Bulldog the finger. Both men argued as they left the cabin, leaving Tanya alone with her least favorite person in the world. She continued her work, but the fine hairs on her arm stood up. Tanya knew Arrow watched her in that creepy way of his. Bored men resorted to reckless actions.

  “Let me help you with that,” Arrow offered, taking the black garbage bag from her hands. He flashed her an empty smile that raised goosebumps all over her flesh.

  “I can handle it on my own.” She tried to snatch the bag, but he only tossed it aside. Tanya cringed at the sound of beer bottles breaking as the bag hit the floor. She took a hesitant step back as he neared her.