by Evelyn Glass
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, events, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
BREAKING THE RULES: Forsaken 99 MC copyright @ 2017 by Evelyn Glass and E-Book Publishing World Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.
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BREAKING THE RULES: Forsaken 99 MC
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
Chapter Thirty Eight
Chapter Thirty Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty One
Chapter Forty Two
Chapter Forty Three
Chapter Forty Four
Chapter Forty Five
Chapter Forty Six
Chapter Forty Seven
Chapter Forty Eight
Chapter Forty Nine
EPILOGUE
LOGAN: The Fallen Thorns MC
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
OTHER BOOKS BY EVELYN GLASS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BREAKING THE RULES: Forsaken 99 MC
By Evelyn Glass
I’M BREAKING ALL THE RULES TO MAKE HER MINE.
She thought she was safe.
Well, she thought wrong.
I don’t obey rules – I break them.
And I’m about to do the same thing to her.
Off limits.
Beyond my reach.
What a joke.
There’s nothing in this world I can’t have.
And this sweet little princess is no exception.
She thinks she can hide out in her little oasis?
That’s laughable at best.
Freedom comes at a price, and she’s gonna have to pay it.
With her lips.
With her moans.
With blood, sweat, and tears.
There’s a war going on outside.
But in here, I only want to hear three things:
“Yes, sir.”
“Please, sir.”
And her moans.
Prologue
Julian “Jules” Rivera crouched in the scrub brush as he absentmindedly brushed a finger along his right eyebrow, wiping away the droplet of sweat before it could roll down into his eye, his shirt already plastered to him like a second skin from his sweat. He had been living in the hot Texas sun for three years, but having grown up in Montana, he didn’t think he would ever adjust to the heat. Unlike that asshole, Fish, Jules thought as he glanced to the man on his right.
Charles Fisher, his best friend, was crouched in the brush with him with not a drop of sweat visible. Jules was of the opinion that Fish, an Arizona native, could walk on the surface of the sun without breaking a sweat. He envied Fish’s cool. Of course, when Fish is freezing his ass off in fifty degree weather, I’m still walking around in short sleeves. Unfortunately, Vallecito saw a lot more ninety degree days than it did fifty, so…
Jules was pulled back from his private bitching when his earbud squawked. “We got a box van on the way,” Marsh’s voice came over the radio. Jules looked around and watched the other six men on his team become deadly serious. They had all heard the same report.
A moment later, a late model Ford box van, driving far too fast down the rough and washboarded dirt road, swung around the corner on the edge of control. The driver must have known he was in bandit country… and he was about to meet the bandits.
A jacked up Chevy pickup lunged across the road, blocking the truck’s path. They had picked this section of road for their ambush because the blind corner hid their presence until the last moment and the deep ditches prevented the truck from driving past their roadblock. As the van shuddered to a stop, another truck surged across the road behind, pinning their quarry in.
Jules and the other six men on foot came out of the brush on each side of the road in a fast-moving combat crouch, their deadly-looking semi-automatic rifles pointed at the driver and passenger. Their truck drivers joined them a moment later.
Sergio “Bell” Guzman yanked open the door of the box van and hauled the driver out and shoved him to his knees while Fish did the same with the passenger on the other side. With two high-powered rifles pointed at the driver’s head, Bell spoke to him in rapid Spanish. Jules let Bell handle it since he couldn’t speak a word of Spanish unless it involved getting drunk or getting laid.
Sure they had the situation under control up front; Jules motioned four of the guys with him to the back of the truck. The men took up station, two to each side of the rollup door with weapons at the ready, as Jules counted down from five on his fingers. When he gripped his hand in a fist, he quickly unlocked the door and threw it up before ducking to avoid a potential hail of bullets.
When no one fired, Jules stood up and looked into the back of the truck. Inside were twenty or more Mexicans crowded at the front of the truck, hunched over the children, all their eyes wide with fear. Jules had to grit his teeth to avoid gagging from the stench of human waste pouring from the truck.
“Fuck…” Jules muttered as his lips curled in disgust. “Somebody get Bell back here.
Jules lowered his weapon so it dangled nonthreateningly from his shoulder. “Tómalo con calma . No vamos a hacerte daño,” he said while maki
ng calming motions with his hands. He hoped he got it close enough that they understood they weren’t going to be hurt. Judging by the fact they still cowered at the front of the truck, he assumed he hadn’t.
Bell appeared at the back of the truck. “Fuck… I hate this shit,” he snarled as he took in the situation.
“Yeah. Me too. See if you can get them calmed down. Some of them look like they have been beaten. Find out if any of them are hurt and I’ll get them some water. It must be a hundred and fifty degrees in there,” Jules instructed. He then turned to the other men. “You know what to do.”
One of the men made a motion across his neck, then two gunshots echoed through the surrounding canyons, making the illegals in the truck whimper in fear.
With a grimace and a shake of his head, Jules walked to the Chevy and returned with a dozen cold waters. He and his men would have to go thirsty, but it wasn’t the first time they had given up their water... and it probably wouldn’t be their last.
“They’re a little roughed up and couple of the women were raped, but nobody is seriously injured. Not physically anyway,” Bell reported when Jules returned.
“Tell them this is all the water we have and they will have to share,” Jules said as he handed up the bottles.
Bell translated and the men nodded and smiled in thanks as they took the water.
“We’re loaded and ready to go,” Fish said as he stepped around the corner of the van.
“Okay. Let Marsh know we’re ready to roll. Tell him we have to make a delivery first and we’ll catch up. Bell, Fish, you’re with me. The rest can head on back.”
***
Twenty minutes later, Jules stopped the van just inside the Mexican border. “Let’s do this,” he muttered to Bell.
Jules and Fish dragged the bodies out of the back of the Chevy, letting them thud to the ground like so much meat. Bell hustled the people out of the truck and herded them around the truck so they could see the dead men displayed on the ground, a great gaping wound in each man’s head.
“You see that?” Jules snarled, stomping around the scared men, women, and children as Bell translated. “You see what happens when you cross into Forsaken 99 territory? You die. You will be gunned down without mercy as these men were. But I’m feeling generous today. You were just cargo, locked in the back of the truck like cattle. So I’m going to let you go. But if I ever see you in our territory again, you will end up just like these two men. This is your only warning. Now go.”
When Bell finished speaking and the crowd didn’t move, Jules fired two quick shots into the ground at their feet. That got them moving. As the illegals disappeared into the brush, Jules watched them go, his lips pursed hard together. “This is worse than the drugs,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” Fish agreed.
“Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Bell said, slapping Jules on the shoulder. “I’ve got better things to do on a Saturday afternoon than stand around and watch the buzzards eat these bastards.”
Chapter One
Rachel Wallace watched as Jules, Fish, and Bell joined the rest of the Forsaken 99 Motorcycle Club members already in her bar. He’s Not Here, a local watering hole started by her grandfather back in the forties, was a favored hangout for Forsaken 99. Judging by their dour faces, they must have run another intercept this afternoon.
While not a member of the club, Rachel heard things... things that most of the people of Vallecito de Grande, Texas liked to pretend wasn’t happening – like the killing of drug mules and Coyotes running illegals. But as far as she was concerned, Forsaken 99 was the best thing to have happened to the town in years.
Nestled into the “U” between Big Bend Ranch State Park and Big Bend National Park, less than ten miles from the Mexican border, and with a natural shallow in the Rio Grande River, Vallecito had once been a warzone. With the desolation afforded by the parks and surrounding ranchland, Vallecito had been a natural exchange point for the drug and illegal alien traffic flowing into the United States from Mexico.
Then, ten years ago, Forsaken 99 had moved in and set up shop. They had made a tacit deal with the town. If the town would give them a home, and not hassle them too much, they would work to push the drug and illegals traffic around the town. Forsaken 99 had lived up to their end of the bargain, and more. As they added new members, their sphere of influence had spread, and they had taken in the surrounding community, providing protection that the police could not.
Later, a group of ranchers had banded together to provide funding and support for what Forsaken 99 was doing. It was a working relationship that had lasted for ten years to the benefit of all. Officially the police were getting the credit for keeping the town safe, but everyone knew it was Forsaken 99 doing the heavy lifting. They had a…freer hand…to deal with the problems, and so long as they kept the violence out of the town, the Vallecito police tended to look the other way.
Rachel smiled as she drew up beers for Jules, Fish, and Bell. Forsaken 99 could be a little rowdy sometimes, but they were all good guys. Each member of the club was ex-military and having them in her bar made her feel just a little closer to her brother.
***
Jules sighed as he settled into his chair and stretched out his legs. He’s Not Here, or HNH as the locals called it, was the best place in town for something cold and wet. And the food was pretty good, too, with Rachel serving up the best burgers and fries in town. It also didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eyes…very easy on the eyes. Jules, Fish, and Bell placed their orders and watched as Angie, the waitress, flounced to the bar. Angie wasn’t exactly hard to look at either.
Jules watched as Rachel drew their beer with an expert touch. Rumor was she took over HNH less than a year before he arrived, but she moved behind the bar with an easy grace and comfort that spoke of years of experience.
She looked up and caught his eyes as the beer poured down the side of the final mug, rewarding him with a smile that made his cock tingle. There was no arguing that Rachel was sexy as hell, with her dark hair pulled up in a ponytail, but there was something much more than just her good looks. She was smart, witty, tough, and he liked talking with her. She stopped the fill just as the beer reach the top of the mug and set in on the tray, her eyes never leaving his. He snickered to himself as he broke eye contact with an admiring shake of his head.
***
Rachel caught him watching her, and she smiled. She liked all the Forsaken 99 guys, but Jules was her favorite. Clean cut, quiet, and soft spoken, he was always good for a funny turn of phrase or interesting conversation. She held his eyes with her own, showing off a little by stopping the fill of the mug at just the right moment without looking down. Her smile widened as he chuckled at her showmanship and looked away. He looked so much better when he smiled…and she wished he would do it more often.
Being that it was Saturday, HNH was hopping. The townspeople had mostly accepted Forsaken 99 into their midst and didn’t mind sharing bar space with them, especially since Jules was elevated to Vice President. He had gone out of his way to give the club a more upstanding image and had been instrumental in getting the club involved in various charity events. He also functioned as the spokesman for Forsaken 99 and gave a speech each year to the new eighth grade class about the evils of drugs and how the kids should be true to who they are. Riding his bike into the cafeteria and up a ramp onto stage in full Forsaken 99 regalia, his speeches were the highlight of the school year.
Rachel grinned as she accepted the next order. For a bunch of average guys, the fifty-one members of Forsaken 99 had done more good for this town than all the politicians in the last twenty-five years. The town was a haven, and growing, as was her business. Her dad wouldn’t even recognize the place now.
***
Jules sat down at the bar. “Draw me another?”
“Tough day?” Rachel asked as she snagged another mug from the freezer and filled it.
“Yeah. Illegals. Looks like some of the women m
ay have been raped.”
Rachel lips tightened in disgust. “But those responsible won’t be doing it again, I assume?”
“That’s a safe assumption.”
“Good.”
“Yeah. Thanks,” he said. As he accepted the mug, his eyes searched the head for answers.
“Jules… you’re doing a good thing here. You know that. It’s not like you go into Mexico, you know? They don’t have to come through Forsaken 99 territory.”
Jules stared into his beer. “Yeah. I know.”
“Look, it’s Saturday. You should be celebrating. I’ll make you a deal. If you can give me a genuine smile, that beer is on the house.”
Jules’s smile formed without conscious thought.
“Enjoy the free beer,” Rachel said with a wink as she moved off to serve another customer.
***
Jules was about halfway through his second beer when an angry voice captured his attention. “Don’t give my any of that shit! I saw you hanging all over her last week at the chili cook-off! I want to know where Vicky is!” a twenty-something shouted while getting into Fish’s face.
“Whoa there, hot-rod,” Bell said, positioning himself between Fish and the guy, placing his cue in the kid’s chest like a baton.
“Back off… skunk,” the kid said, sneering at Bell’s black hair with the white streak down the center. “My business is with this asshole!”