Hush (Steel Valley Chains MC #4)

PROLOGUE

Hush

I’m simply existing. Not living.

There’s nothing left but emptiness.

Darkness.

Every time I close my eyes, the pain continues to consume me.

I want to claw out the organ from my chest every second of every day.

Rip out what’s no longer beating and feed it to the goddamn birds.

The agony never stops. It hammers away at me, day by day, night by night.

Then washes through me like a tidal wave, drowning every bit of humanity I have left with it.

Little by little. Until there’s nothing left.

I welcome the day. For it may be the only chance I have at breathing again.

The afterlife is uncertain, but it must be better than this. Before, I would have told death to go fuck itself, but now? Well, now it seems like a gift. A hope. A promise. There’s nothing left for me here.

“Hey, asshole. I’m talking to you.”

I still with the glass of ice water inches from my mouth. The large figure hovers over me and knocks the glass out of my hand, water spraying over my face. The counter. Everywhere. With an odd solace present, I reach for a napkin square and dab at the small sections on my wet skin.

The bartender eyes me before glancing over at the biker. He then turns, busying himself. It’s the look of someone who was used to this type of confrontation. But also, a warning.

“This is our turf. We don’t allow outsiders here.” The foul stench of the big biker’s breath hits my gut. “You got five seconds to get up and get the fuck out of here.”

My gaze never falters, staring straight ahead, studying the little swirls of the backsplash.

“One,” he seethes, and I slowly close my eyes.

“Two.” His musky breath lingers to my left. “Three.”

I turn my head and inhale, focusing on steadying my breathing.

“Four.” He pauses before spitting out his last number. “Five.”

I exhale.

“Time’s up, motherfucker.” He crashes his heavy hand on my shoulder, and I grab it, squeezing it like a chew toy. I then twist his sweaty arm back, slamming his head onto the bar’s countertop.

“My arm!” The biker’s pain echoes throughout the bar even over the loud music. Dislocating the shoulder is a pain beyond belief. If you haven’t experienced it for yourself, you don’t have a clue on how it feels.

Two of his buddies jump up from their seats, stalking over. I hurl my guy, whose cheek was previously enjoying the oak top, causing them to stumble like bowling pins and it gives me just enough time to reach for the pool stick resting next to me.

Twirling it once, I throw a beer bottle up and swing the stick, sending the glass flying. It hits the other biker in the face, and he screams in pain from the multiple cuts to his forehead.

“It’s over for you!” The bad breath biker regains his footing but before he can get to me, I swing again like I’m back in high school playing baseball, and it collides with his left kneecap right before it splinters in half.

He goes down with a shriek of misery, holding onto the same knee rolling in half circles.

That’s definitely broke.

They’re out of shape, making this way too easy. Though all I wanted was to be left alone. Hydrate in peace. That feeling was hard to come by.

Shouts and hollers surround me from each watching bystander. But they’re not cheering for me. They want the bikers to kick my ass.

Fair enough.

One guy pushes a woman out of the way, trying to get to me, but I hold out an arm before she can fall. This allows him to get a good blow to my jaw and my head snaps to the side from it. The taste of blood coats my tongue from my splitting lip.

He goes for another jab, but I duck, thrusting the broken end of the pool stick into his exposed arm.

A loud shot fires in the air, and I’m left staring at the end of a shotgun barrel.

“Get the fuck out of my bar.” The bartender cocks it keeping it aimed straight between my eyes.

For the first time in a long time, excitement roars through me. The temptation of telling him to do it itches to get free. Then something, I don’t know what, pulls at me and I take a step back. I wanted him to pull that trigger, even if the craving was short lived.

I snatch my bag from my previous seat slinging it over my shoulder. The crowd watches in silence as the barrel never leaves my sight. I pull my hood up and make my exit, heading straight for the open road. My boots crunch over the dirt beneath me, and I don’t look back.

It’s night with only a few cars on the road so there’s low risk of encountering another, whatever the fuck that was back there.

“You got one of hell of a right arm.”

My steps falter and I slowly turn toward an older man with a biker cut leaning against a beat-up pickup. I brace myself for another fight but notice his patch isn’t the same as the guys inside. None the less, I keep my hand in a fist as I wait for him to make an unpredictable move.

He stays in position; his beefy arms crossed over his chest, and he gives a knowing grin. “Relax. You did me a favor. Now I get to go home to my ol’ lady with my handsome face still intact.” He strokes his jaw hidden beneath a thick greying beard and prowls toward me.

Without so much as a blink, I study his every thunderous move. He’s massive and could easily overpower me if I let him.

“Name’s Chain,” he announces, and I stare down at his outstretched hand not accepting his friendly introduction. He clears his throat dropping it back down to his side. “Where are you going, kid?” He nods to my bag.

Kid? Hardly. But I guess in comparison I am younger than him.

I shrug. “Not entirely sure.” It’s true. I have nowhere to go. No plan for a destination.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Well. I got a club. A spare bed. And a woman who knows her way around the kitchen. When she’s not busy running things, that is. You want in?”

What the fuck is this? He’s asking me to join his biker club.

“No thanks. I enjoy being on my own.” I grip the strap of my bag, yanking it up higher over my shoulder, then turn to leave.

“I respect that. But I can use someone like you on my team. An enforcer.”

“Not interested.” I head down the side of the road toward nowhere and that’s when I get the tug again. A pull. The wind blows, leaving a chill running through me.

I stop to take in a steady breath, then with an exhale I turn back at this Chain guy. He hasn’t left his spot, but the smile he wears tells me he knows what I’m about to choose.

I take one last look at the open road, then join him. Because honestly, whatever my fate may be, I have nothing left to lose.