Page 1 of Hell's Claim

Prologue.

Sunny

It was time, he decided as he watched the sun rise over the Black Hills. Since he had returned to Hellfire, he’d wallowed. Sure, Sunny had missed his club while he’d been in the army, but he’d had to escape them, too.

He idly rubbed the bullet scar on his chest—the one that had nearly killed him.

Faking his death had been easy. The doctor had been easily convinced, and Sunny had got the fuck out of South Dakota and headed for a straight fourteen years of serving his country.

Fury had been controlling recent events, but the war was yet to come. The backstabbing motherfucker Hellfire still had in their midst might show his face soon.

Sunny was alert to everything and anything. He was analysing every little thing he saw, and damn it, he was freaking tired. It was hard being constantly on guard and watchful and more tiring than people realised. But he could handle it. He was an ex-soldier, and nobody was going to pull the wool over his eyes.

Sunny’s gaze drifted to a vision of sheer beauty. How he got so fuckin’ lucky, he didn’t know. A smile crossed his lips as she pulled herself out of his swimming pool and caught sight of him.

A glowing smirk was returned to him. “Hey, Dad!” Olivia called.

Sunny’s baby girl. His reason for living. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. She was everything special and beautiful in his life. He was back to clean Hellfire for her.

Sunny realised now that Olivia was older, someone might come looking for her. Chance had a thing for family, and Olivia was a Hellfire Princess.

Fuck no. He wouldn’t let that happen. Nobody would harm his daughter.

“Sweetness. What do you have planned today?” he asked.

Olivia wrung her hair out. “I thought I’d hit the mall. And don’t worry, I’ll take Diaz and Ashford with me.”

Sunny allowed a ghost of a smile to cross his lips. Liv shouldn’t have to live like this. When he’d resigned from the army, four others left at the same time from his unit. Diaz, Ashford, Ackers, and Solace. Diaz and Solace were women that Sunny wouldn’t ever cross. He valued his life too much to risk their ire. When he’d left, he had explained why, and they came to South Dakota with him.

They were a team and would remain so. No—a team was a lie. They were fuckin’ family, and that counted for something.

Sunny should have felt torn. Hellfire was his family too, and then he had his team. Yet, he didn’t. Sunny’s loyalty extended to both; he’d never pick one over the other. He’d get Hellfire clean, as was his duty, and then think about the future. Maybe it wasn’t with Hellfire; who knew? Not him, for sure.

Ackers was trying to get a candidate’s place in Hellfire to watch Sunny’s six. Meanwhile, Solace was drawing up plans of priority members of the club to rule them out as suspects.She’d already hacked into their systems and found nothing incriminating or dodgy. Now Solace was organising who to stalk first to see if they led to something illicit or secretive. As soon as Sunny gave the go-ahead, Solace would start her investigation.

Sunny would find the traitor, and when he did, blood would spill.

Chapter One.

Sunny - 1990.

Shit was going downhill fast. The MC he loved was taking paths Sunny didn’t agree with. He held a rank—enforcer—but had no loyalty to Zeus. Sunny’s allegiance was to Chance Michaelson, whose father had started the club with his.

Sunny had been fourteen when his stepdad had been killed by a Hellfire brother. An unknown person had murdered Enigma. Neither he nor Chance talked about their father’s deaths.

Chance had still been grieving when there was an attack on the other founders of Hellfire MC. Fourteen-year-old Sunny had lost his dad that night four years ago when Bullet had been shot multiple times. Cutter, Slash’s son, had gone on a rampage, Sunny had no doubt that Zeus had sanctioned it.

Chance, then sixteen, and Bear had saved the one last founder Hellfire had, Big Al. Hell, Cutter had even slaughtered his own parent, Slash.

In retaliation, they’d killed Cutter, which marked Sunny’s first kill. Fourteen and he’d a body under his belt, something his dad would have hated.

But Sunny owed Bullet that. The man wasn’t his blood father but had got with Sunny’s mom when he was one. His sperm donor, a Hellfire brother called Primal, ignored Sunny and had been kicked from the club when Sunny turned four. Primal had attacked Enigma in a drug-fuelled haze. Needless to say, Sunny didn’t remember him.

In the years since Bullet’s death, Sunny had grown up. Eighteen to Chance’s twenty, they had both matured quickly. Then they received fuckin’ awful news.

Arrow, Rage MC’s founder, had died from cancer. Chance had been working with Arrow to reclaim Hellfire. The fight had just become harder. No way would Arrow’s son claim the presidency. Drake Michaelson was still a kid. Sunny didn’t see a clear path to Rage and Hellfire staying clean.

In the four years since Zeus had stolen presidency from Chance, Hellfire had been on a steady decline. It hadn’t happened at once, but gradually, with good members blacking their ink and shit replacing them. Over half the club was stoned most nights; cheap, tacky pussy was in abundance. Sunny was sure ninety per cent of the bitches attending had some sort of sexual disease.

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