Slammer san francisco st.., p.1

Slammer (San Francisco Steel, #1), page 1


Slammer (San Francisco Steel, #1)

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Slammer (San Francisco Steel, #1)

  PHOTO Credit: ID 91752073 © Arturkurjan |


  San Francisco Steel

  Copyright © 2019 KJ Dahlen Books

  Editor: Leanore Elliott

  Book Design & Cover: Wicked Muse

  Also by Kj Dahlen

  Bratva Blood Brothers






  Brothers United








  Bratva Enforcers-Nomads




  Devil's Advocates MC



  Devils Trifecta MC




  Hell's Bloodhounds MC


  Hell's Fire Riders MC

  Pappy's Shadow


  Trigger The Storm

  Birth Of Hells Fire Rider

  Lost Sons MC

  Creed's Return





  Princes Of Hell MC




  Rivers Foundation


  San Francisco Steel





  Satan's Spawn MC

  Spawn & Spitfire

  Revenge and Retribution

  Babies & Bastards

  Savaged Souls MC


  Sin's Bastards MC

  Silk & Bones

  Karma's Bite

  No Regrets

  Hell's Fury

  Lies & Liars

  Stone Cold

  Sin's Bastards Next Generation











  Vengeance Is Mine


  WarLords MC



  Whiskey Bend MC Series

  Lucifer's Woman

  Demon's Stand

  At All Costs

  Out Of The Shadows




  Hell's Fire MC Series Set

  Satan's Spawn & Sin's Bastards Collection

  A Life For Luke

  Chasing Eve

  Saving Sebastian

  Shadows Of The Past

  Never Forget Me

  The Cartouche

  A Wrath Is Born

  The New Brotherhood



  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By Kj Dahlen

  Slammer (San Francisco Steel, #1)


  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  About K. J. Dahlen

  Sign up for Kj Dahlen's Mailing List

  Further Reading: Spawn & Spitfire

  Now that K.J Dahlen is out on her own, she has released 73 books at

  FREE books, 99 Cents Sales, Flash Sales and Print Books for $6.99 shipped at low cost, all over the world.


  Book One- - President- Slammer- AKA Ben Hagen- 37 years old, 6’4” 300 lbs. of pure muscle. Dark Hair, worn on the long side, lots of ink. Got his road name because he can put a man down and out with two punches ...... Ivy Choler, teacher for the Deaf.. 27 yrs. old 5'7"Emerald green eyes, satiny red hair down to her butt.. has one Brother. Raised by step-parents who have now passed away, she returned from teaching to raise her brother to adulthood, Ivy has a love for animals and children.

  Book Two - -VP- Shotgun- aka Lucian Masters- 38 years old, 6’3” tall 257 lbs longish blonde hair, full beard, grey eyes, got his road name because he likes to carry a sawed off shotgun as a weapon. In fact, he modified his own weapon. Has a deaf daughter Bess, 8 years old but he’s only known her for a few months, mother Nancy is long gone.......River Haliday .. 27 yrs old in a women's shelter, 5'5" silky cherry red hair, but a natural brunette, raised on the streets.. a runaway so to speak .

  Book Three—Treasurer – Grinder Jonah Robbins- 34 years old, 6’2” tall, .. weighs in at 275 ..shoulder length dark hair, blue eyes, full beard.......Andrea “Andi” Tennant- 27 short black hair, green eyes, free lance photographer-

  Book Four—Sergeant at arms- Mammoth aka- Danny Coullier- 36 years old, Long blonde hair, full beard grey eyes. 6’6” tall 300 lbs...... Zoe Brackett, 29 years old is 5'7" dark strawberry blonde ..grew up sheltered by single mom who is now passed.. bartender with a secret....

  Book Five—Road Captain- Booker aka Malachi Crew 31 years old. 6’4” .. weighs in at 310 ...shoulder length red hair and scruffy beard, green eyes.....Quincy Marlow dog trainer .. 28 yrs old 5'5" deep long red strawberry blonde .. Friend to Ivy Choler for 7 yrs.. has an older brother former marine wounded, and has a hard time being accepted due to PTSD...helps with her dogs as well and becomes close friends to the MCs

  Book Six—Spider .. AKA Mike Davitt – Doctor -. 34 years old 6'5" ... weighs in at 360 solid muscle .. cropped hair midnight black, scruff beard, deep sea blue eyes .....Sophie Marlin , 27 years old 5'8" green emerald eyes ..Midnight black hair .. shoulder length, ER nurse.


  Chapter One

  The sun was just coming up in the eastern horizon as Ben Hagen AKA Slammer sat on the sandy beach. As per his usual, he’d traveled from his home to the beach fifteen miles away to start the day staring out over the water of San Francisco bay.

  No one else in his club was aware of his habit and that was the way he liked it. The early morning bustle of his city was behind him but he liked the few minutes alone that it took the sun to come up. This was his time. No matter what happened in his life he always took a few minutes to watch the dawn of a new day.

  As the sun’s heat warmed his face, he took a moment to feel the awe of what was in front of him. The new dawn’s light across the waves of the flowing water as the light made the shadows of the night disappear. Some days, the Bay waters seemed so still, it was like looking at a mirror, and then other days the water moved slowly like the tides were ebbing and flowing. Then there were days the water churned, as if hidden beasts were playing war under the murky waves.

  That reminded him of his current problem— Playing war...He was troubled by what had been going on lately. His club, the Steel Renegades MC had been attacked in different ways and no one knew why or who was behind it. Over the last six months, there had been a series of accidents. Well, they seemed like accidents, but there had been a sense somehow, that all were deliberate acts. Not only that but these accidents had been getting closer to becoming more dangerous.

  One of their alcohol shipments w
as waylaid and the driver pushed out. The truck was burned and had exploded. Next, one of their prospects had been shot behind one of the bars they owned and he was DOA when the cops showed up. That investigation led the cops over to their compound to ask questions.

  There had been more of these so called accidents and he felt they weren’t accidental. Slashed bike tires. Broken windows. A few employees being stalked and robbed. He felt that someone was playing with them, testing them to find their vulnerable places. What he didn’t know was why or who was behind them.

  They were for the most part a legit MC. They owned prosperous businesses in Frisco, they didn’t run drugs at all. They did run guns on occasion and only guns. The Renegades didn’t run drugs at all. They owned and operated a strip club, two tatt clubs and three bars in the city. They earned a good living and over the last few years, they had grown as a club, and now they were expanding yet again, with a new construction business.

  Their clubhouse was located at the edge of south Frisco and it was a few miles from the bay. The clubhouse itself was a two-story warehouse with underground tunnels to the second warehouse next door. Both warehouses were connected to a series of tunnels leading to the bay and the dock they owned. The tunnels were hidden and only the MC knew about them but that was their safeguard against someone unwelcomed getting in. Their part of the bay had been used as a smuggler’s dock when the people first settled in San Francisco. It was rumored that pirates once brought their boats here to exchange goods from their raids.

  Slammer knew his time alone with the bay was over for today. It was now time to see to his business of running the MC and its various ventures. He strolled over to his bike and swung his leg over the engine then revved the engine and took off. He loved the sound of his cycle, to him it sounded like no other. There was so much power in the sound of that engine. some days he felt it might just take him beyond the stars.

  As he hit the highway, he knew this was where he belonged. This city was his home, one he hadn’t had growing up but one he was connected to now. The streets and highways surrounding the city were like the arteries inside the body of San Francisco. Each was connected and each one vital to the overall good of the city.

  Turning to the west, he followed the highway till he came to the last turn into a small community. This was his hood, well one of his hoods anyway.

  His club owned and operated a couple of businesses here. One was a tattoo parlor and the other was a bar. He was on his way to the bar at the moment. There had been some trouble there last night and he had to assess the damage. Two of his regulars had mixed it up, so some tables and mirrors had been busted up in the free for all that resulted.

  As he parked his bike across the street, from the bar, he saw a truck and another bike pull up behind him. It was two of his men from the MC. He nodded at them and began walking toward them.

  Just then...

  Without any kind of warning at all, the bar exploded. One minute, it was there and it looked like it always did and the next a loud bang sounded and debris was flying everywhere.

  The explosion threw Slammer off his feet while pieces of brick and glass rained down on him. For a moment, all Slammer could do was cover his head and hold on. When he lifted his head, he turned stunned eyes to the wreckage.

  “What the everlovinfuck?” his MC brother, Shotgun called out. Slammer might have been the President of the Steel Renegades MC, but Shotgun was the VP and they both struggled slowly to get up on their feet and stare at the burning building. Although burning was the wrong word to use in this instance as the building wasn’t so much burning as it was smoldering.

  Once the initial blast went off and the dust and debris settled down what was left of the building was pitiful. The explosion had imploded on itself reducing the chance of the fire spreading to the nearby buildings.

  All three men stumbled forward to see what had happened. They moved closer in disbelief to what was left of the Dancer’s bar and grill.

  Slammer went around the back and swore. The blast had completely destroyed the entire building. The back of the bar was piled high with debris as well. Broken bricks, shattered glass and twisted lengths of wood was all he could see in the rubble. Until he looked a little closer, that is.

  Kneeling on the ground beside what should have been the back door, he saw and arm, as well as a bare foot sticking out of the wreckage. A bare foot connected to a jean covered leg. Looking closer, he found a mangled shoe nearby.

  Slammer began pushing the debris away trying to uncover the rest of the body. Soon he could see it was a she he was uncovering as the fragments of the building was being cleared away. When his brothers Shotgun and Grinder joined him, they also quickly helped to move the scraps of metal and such, to finally expose the girl’s body. She might have been dirty and covered in rubble but she was still alive. Even though the back of her head had taken a blow and was covered in blood—the girl was still alive.

  When they heard the sirens coming their way, Slammer made a quick decision. He lifted the girl’s body and began carrying her around front to the bed of the truck. He glared at Grinder and told him, “Take her back to the clubhouse, and get her medical attention. If she’s found here, the cops will take her away before we have a chance to talk to her and I want to know some things before we turn her over to them.”

  Shotgun snorted, “Yeah, like why she blew up our bar and who she’s working for? Yeah, I’d like to find out that myself.”

  “Just take her back and get her cleaned up,” Slammer told Grinder. “We don’t know anything yet.” He saw the flashing red lights turning the corner about three blocks down. He turned toward Grinder. “Go, I’ll need Shotgun here with me.”

  Grinder got behind the wheel and took off while Slammer and Shotgun waited for the fire department to arrive. Looking over at the bar, they noted the fire was out but there was still the explosion to deal with.

  When the police showed up a short time later, it had been the beginning of a damned slow headache that Slammer wouldn’t get over so quickly. The police had found blood on the scene and with no body, they assumed the worst. Slammer and Shotgun didn’t tell them about the girl as they had plans for questioning her already.

  It was midafternoon before they were free to leave and everything was secure. With a police escort, they’d been able to retrieve the money and receipts from what was left of the office, everything else was lost in the explosion and resulting fire.

  The fire marshal had done a quick exploration and determined the explosion had been deliberately set and the police were suspicious that the Steel Renegades had done it themselves. Then the insurance adjusters had assured them that the coverage they had wouldn’t make up for the building itself and that it would have been stupid of the them to bring down a building which they didn’t have full coverage for. This loss would be on the Renegades not the insurance company. They were only covered for the inventory inside the building.

  When they finally got back to the clubhouse, both men were dirty and starving and more than a little pissed off. When they joined the other two dozen men or so inside the building, everyone was present except for Spider Mike. He was still tending to the girl Grinder had brought back with him this morning.

  The men were grumbling, as they were more than pissed at this unseen enemy.

  “Pres, what the hell happened this morning?” Rock, one of the Sergeant at arms of the club asked.

  Slammer shook his head. “That, my friend, is a very good question. One that I don’t have an answer for yet, but I will. Someone set a charge and blew up the Dancer.”

  “Do we know that for sure?” Rooster asked. He was one of the Road Captains for the group.

  Shotgun nodded. “Yeah boys, that much we know for sure. The fire captain said as much. We’ll get the full report in a couple of days, about the same time as the police do. The explosion took out the building itself but was rigged in such a way the resulting fire burned out quickly enough so as not to torch the res
t of the buildings around it. Only the Dancer was destroyed.”

  “So this isn’t one of the accidents that might or might not be an accident huh?” Rooster asked.

  “Whoever is behind this shit is stepping up his game,” Slammer told them in disgust. “This game is now becoming very deadly. Though they could have set it for when people were there, so that is a puzzle.” He shook his head. “Where is the girl?” he asked Grinder.

  Grinder motioned to the hallway down to the offices. “She’s in with Spider Mike. He and Mindy cleaned her up and he’s been watching her all day. She’s still out cold.”

  Slammer, Shotgun and half the men walked down the hall to where Mike kept his first aid station. He was a full-fledged doctor and all they had to patch them up when they needed it.

  Spider was just checking her vitals again when everyone showed up. When Slammer saw her again, he frowned. When he’d seen her last she’d been covered in dust and debris, now at least her face and hair were clean. He couldn’t say too much about the rest of her. The rest of her was still dirty and her clothes looked to be in tatters.

  Looking back at her face, he stared at her ivory skin and dark red hair. Her eyes were closed, but the blood from the cuts were gone. She looked a little older than she had before, maybe close to mid to late twenties? Certainly not a child. He couldn’t help but wonder what her story was and how she happened to be in the line of fire. Then he caught sight of her hair. Her very long, dark red hair. It was semi clean with a thick bit of it trailing off the side of the bed like a dark red curtain even with a bandage wrapped around her head. It fell in waves as if it had been caught up in a braid that was recently loosened after spending some time woven into a fashion of sorts.

  Spider looked up at him and shook his head. “Something here doesn’t make sense boss.”

  “What do you mean?” Slammer wanted to know. Bringing his attention back to the problem at hand, he dragged his eyes away from the woman and back to his man.

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