Page 19 of Ruin (Hell’s Mayhem MC: Maine Chapter #2)

Chapter Eighteen

Kolton

The thing about being a small MC in a small town is that we don’t have a lot to stand on when it comes to defending what we have.

We’re an easy target, and if I were part of the Iron Runners, I’d do exactly what they’re doing too.

But we will not back down. This is our town, and they can kill us all before we lay down and take it.

So even though we’re only a crew of ten and they have triple that, we’re still riding to their bar to fuck shit up.

It’s been a crazy summer with them. Two solid fights so far, one of which landed Rhino in the ER with a stab to the stomach.

It wasn’t anything serious, just some stitches, but we don’t care if it was a fingernail scratch.

You don’t hurt one of ours. We got payback for that—sort of.

But that doesn’t mean we’re through. It’s clear they aren’t done, since they keep pulling some shit when we aren’t looking.

We will do whatever the fuck we need to make sure they stay on their own territory.

If they want the border, they can go find it somewhere else and make their own contract with them.

They need to stop being pussies and trying to overtake us.

We’re also pretty sure that they’re the ones Norman was laundering money for.

If it’s true, they won’t come back, and I guess that solves that.

There are seven bikes in the lot when we get there, and a few other cars and trucks. They may not be part of the MC but they’ll help them. This is their town, with their people.

They’ll hear us coming, so we need to be quick.

We get into the lot, grab our bats and crowbars and rush into the place.

They’re already off their seats and reaching for whatever weapons they have in their back pockets.

I don’t worry about what the other guys are doing; they can handle themselves.

I go for the closest Iron prick, pull my bat back, and crack him against the arm with it.

Ideally, we’d kill every single one of these assholes but the heat is already on us and we don’t need to go to jail for murder.

The town would be fucked then. But we can rough them up enough that they’ll hurt for a while, even end up in the hospital.

There’s a grey line for when the cops get involved and when they look the other way, not wanting to get in between battles that are bigger than them.

Pinehaven doesn’t even have a police force.

We have one sheriff and one deputy. Those fuckers aren’t doing a damn thing to go against us, because they know they’ll end up six feet in the ground and no one will say a word.

That’s one thing I do appreciate about the MC.

Despite our differences and the struggles we have, I still firmly believe that none of us are rats.

“You fucking dick!” the guy shouts when my bat connects with the top of his bicep. He curls over, but comes right back at me, tackling me at my waist. I fall into the table behind me, my hip hitting it hard. The pain radiates down my leg and infuriates me.

We fall to the floor, and I roll to get out of his grip, then rear my foot back and boot him right in the face. I hear the satisfying crunch and he falls back, hands going to his nose. The blood is instant. I get up, then take the bat to his knee and stomp on it for good measure.

“Try riding with a shattered knee, you piece of shit.” I spit on him and walk away.

We all got nicknames in the club. They come to us for one reason or another.

I got mine because I bit someone’s finger off.

It was just a reaction. All my anger and tension had been building up for months.

We got into a tiff with a different MC when I was just a prospect, and some fucker grabbed my cheeks, squeezing them like I was a five-year old kid.

I kicked him in the balls, grabbed his wrist, and took a mouthful of finger and bit down.

I spit it on him afterward and told him to keep his fingers away from my fucking mouth if he wanted them to stay attached.

That was just the first time .

The guys found it funny. I didn’t see the humor in it. It was just a way to survive. I do what I can to make it through to the next day—after all, it’s how I’ve always lived my life.

Since this guy is down for the count, I look for another.

Grizz is taking on two guys, which shouldn’t be difficult for him. He’s about the size of a Grizzly, but since I’m doing nothing, I may as well help the guy out.

I flip my bat, crack my neck, and walk through the chaos to the other side of the bar.

Grizz shoves the guy far back enough I get a good swing in and hit him right in the gut.

He keels over, groaning, so I knee him in the mouth.

Blood spills to the floor, along with a tooth as he drops to his knees.

Something hard and heavy comes down on my back, and I growl as I stumble forward, trying to keep my balance and breathe.

“Sorry, bro!” Shark calls out with a grin.

I look behind me on the floor, and see an unconscious Iron prick.

Did he fucking throw him at me?

Chaos erupts all around me. There’s screaming, wood cracking, bones breaking, boots squeaking, and a ton of other noises that I am suddenly finding too overwhelming now that I’m not focused on fucking someone up.

So, I take the opportunity to go around the bar and into the back hallway, where people usually like to look for more weapons.

There are three doors off the hallway. The back emergency exit door, one that has a small window, showing a tiny ass stockroom, and another labeled office . That’s where I’ll find what I need.

I try the knob, but it’s locked. I roll my eyes, step back, and kick it out. The frame splinters, the door slamming against the wall. It rebounds hard, so I hold my hand out to catch it. I swear I heard a scream but it probably just came from the front.

The room is dark with no windows, so I flip on the light switch.

The room brightens under the fluorescent lighting, pain shooting through my head as I try to adjust. The crack in the wall showing where the safe is hiding is clear as day, so I go right to it.

I tear the panel off and take the handle to yank it out of the wall.

I pull too hard and stumble back into the desk that scrapes along the floor, the safe hitting me in the gut and landing hard on my thigh.

This time I do hear a yell. And it sounded like it came from beneath the desk.

I drop the heavy ass safe to the ground, then move around the desk, holding my bat at the ready. Though the scream sounded feminine, it doesn’t mean they won’t fight. Some of these women are taught to shoot first. Sometimes they do it out of fear because of what’s happened to them over the years.

“Please don’t hurt me,” someone says quickly. I bend down and find a tiny woman with a big round belly and dark hair. She has a busted lip and a black eye. I know my guys didn’t do this. We don’t hurt women, no matter what.

“Are you hurt?” I ask .

She stares at me for a long moment then shakes her head. I offer her my hand. “Let me help you.”

“No. Don’t touch me.”

She pushes herself back, curling up in the corner and trying to make herself smaller, which is difficult with how pregnant she is.

“I’m not like the men you’re used to,” I assure her. “We don’t hurt women.” I glance at her stomach. “And we definitely don’t hurt children.”

She frowns, as if considering what I’ve said, but doesn’t know if she can trust me. I can tell by the emptiness in her eyes that all this woman knows is fear and pain. I guess we’re not all that different in that way..

“Come on,” I say, urging my hand forward a little more. “I know a doctor. He can help you and your baby.”

She shifts away like a frightened animal, the desk squeaking as it moves across the floor another inch or so.

This poor girl is terrified and I can’t blame her, given she’s been held by these assholes.

“No, I can’t. They’ll find me.”

“I promise you, I will kill anyone who tries to come after you.”

My words are firm, and I’ve never meant them more in my entire life.

She frowns again. “You can’t make that promise.”

“I just did. ”

It takes a long moment of her staring at me before she finally takes my hand, allowing me to help her up. She hisses, her hands going to her stomach immediately.

“I think something is wrong,” she says quietly, tears flooding her eyes.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” I ask.

“No!” she cries, jerking away from me. She trips, and I reach out to steady her. “No, they have… people there.”

Oh? Well, that’s good to know. That information may come in handy later. We weren’t aware they had people inside the hospital.

“You said you know a doctor?”

I did say that, didn’t I?

“I do. He can help you.”

When she takes my hand again, I realize I have no way of getting her out of here. There is no way in fuck I’m putting a pregnant chick who could or could not be in labor on my bike. We don’t have any cars here. So, I guess we have only one option.

“I’m going to call him to come here.”

“No, we have to leave,” she urges, her eyes going wide. “More of them will show up!”

“We will handle it,” I assure her as I pull out my phone.

I promised myself the money was the last thing I would ask him for. I guess I’m a liar after all.