Page 4 of Ruin (Hell’s Mayhem MC: Maine Chapter #2)

Chapter Three

Kolton

“Good morning, Snapper,” Janet, the secretary, greets from behind her desk in the main office of the high school.

“Morning.”

“Principal Kenting will be with you shortly; he’s just finishing up another meeting. You can have a seat while you wait.”

“No thanks.”

I walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, feeling her eyes on me.

People always stare at me, and I don’t understand why.

They aren’t unfamiliar with me and the MC.

There are enough of us who walk around in our cuts with a shit ton of tattoos.

Just because I have a little more than the rest of them doesn’t make me more of a sideshow to look at.

Though I’m used to the stares, it doesn’t stop me from feeling them and forcing myself to ignore them.

Not understanding people is another normal for me.

It’s gotten easier to accept over time, but still annoys me on most days .

I look out at the empty football field. I’m not sure why they spent so much money building it, when the school doesn’t have enough kids to make a team.

The high school only has about sixty graduating kids a year, sometimes less and rarely more.

Not all of them are from Pinehaven, either.

Some of the surrounding towns send their kids here because they think it’s better due to it being smaller.

I think it’s shit and people should move as far away as possible.

All they do is graduate and move on to farm land like the rest of this godforsaken place.

Every few years, someone will escape. That’s what we should be celebrating.

There are a handful of kids out there now, running around the track. It must be training for something because school ended a few weeks ago. Maybe they’re starting a new track team. I guess there are enough kids for that. It doesn’t require much skill. You just need legs, I guess.

“Hey, good morning, Snapper.”

I glance over my shoulder at Mr. Kenting who walks into the room with a thick folder under his arm.

“Morning.”

“Come on,” he says with a smile as he waits by his office door.

He’s one of the nicer guys in town. Doesn’t give us shit, and I hear the kids like him. He’s fine working with us for the charity events, but maybe that’s because he’s getting something out of it while not having to give anything in return, other than a few meetings and signatures.

Most of the shops in town don’t mind helping out because it’s for the town. That’s what our charity events are for— making the town better and helping the kids or families in need. But there are some businesses who would rather us leave them alone and do their own thing, the greedy fucking twats.

“Have a seat,” Mr. Kenting says as he moves around his desk and drops the folder onto the desk with a loud plop. He loosens his tie. “You don’t mind a little informality, right, Snapper? I hate these things.” He chuckles and I stare at him.

When he sits, he flips open the folder. “Okay, I’ve got everything you dropped off.

We have the date finalized and Janet is finishing up the map.

Once that’s done and approved by me, we will make copies and start dropping them off.

I see the list of businesses who are providing things. We’ll just need to follow up on—”

Knocking on the door pulls both our attention. When I look over my shoulder, my blood runs cold.

Him.

There he is, standing in the doorway looking better than ever.

His hair is a little more grey than I remember but just as thick.

His skin is more tan, like he’s spent the last few years in the sun.

Those eyes are exactly the same, piercing blue like the ocean around a tropical island.

He’s dressed in an expensive grey suit, crisp white shirt, and blood red tie which is not at all surprising—looking good is his specialty.

But what the fuck is he doing here?

If he’s surprised to see me, he doesn’t show it, and that only serves to piss me off .

“Oh, Mr. Carter.” The principal stands up, moving around the desk and offering his hand. “I didn’t expect you for the meeting today.”

I can’t pull my eyes away from him, and it almost feels like he’s purposely not looking at me, though I’d bet my left nut he can see me perfectly.

“I got into town sooner than expected, and recalled you had mentioned the meeting. Figured I would stop in.”

“What are you doing here?” falls out of my mouth bitterly.

That causes his gaze to drop to me. Along with Mr. Kenting’s who looks confused but also a little nervous.

Like how dare I insult Lucian Carter.

Fuck Lucian Carter.

“Mr. Carter is being celebrated at the charity event. Weren’t you aware?”

“No,” I grit out. “Which I find highly offensive considering I’m planning the fucking thing.”

He clears his throat, looking around nervously. “Yes, he is the one who funded the rebuild of the school. We thought it was a good time to celebrate with it being the ten year anniversary and an opportunity to better the school even further.”

Funded the rebuild of the school? How did I not know this? I know everything about this town. It’s my job to know everything about this town, especially things like this. How did that slip by me? Had I known and chose to ignore it? No, I didn’t know about this .

“I’ll reiterate,” I say, getting to my feet. “I’ve planned this entire event by myself, and not once was I made aware of any celebration for him or anyone else.”

“Uh, yes. It was sort of a last minute addition.” He gives me a weak smile, but I see the fear in his eyes.

No wonder the kids like this guy. He’s a pussy. Probably thinks I’ll pull a knife on him and stab him right here. He knows I’d get away with it.

“But he was aware of the meeting?” I question, unsure why I’m still talking at all.

“Yes, I’d let him know,” Mr. Kenting says with a firm nod of his head. And that’s all I need to know.

This wasn’t an accident, and it wasn’t a mistake.

He did this on purpose.

I move until I’m in Lucian’s face. His eyes are hard, but I swear they soften the slightest bit when they focus on mine. I can’t let that get to me though. It’s all bullshit. It’s all fake. It’s all fucking lies. All this man knows how to do is spew lies and look good. He was made for nothing else.

“You better fuck right off with this bullshit,” I seethe, before shoving past him and walking out the door and straight out of the school. If he thinks he’s going to weasel his way back into my life by being a sneaky fuck, he’s got another thing coming. It isn’t going to fucking work.

I hate how well he knows me, though, and that’s all I can think about. If he didn’t, he’d try to talk to me another way. But he knows I’m not going to talk to him, and so the only way he can get close, is by being the snake he is. Only, I’m not charmed by slithering reptiles. Not anymore.

I head right to the club, where everyone already seems to be.

“Yo, Snapper!” Grizz calls out with a grin.

Out of everyone in the club, he’s the one I like the most. Though, I use the word like loosely. I’m not sure I like anyone.

“How’d the meeting go?” Coyote asks. He’s the Prez who everyone hates—myself included.

We all know that no one trusts him, but no one will speak that shit out loud.

He’s new, only came in because his father died a few months ago.

Before that, he hated this club, and no one knows why he wanted to come into it so suddenly.

He hasn’t shared it with us either. He needs to prove himself or this whole club will fall apart.

Which, I wouldn’t really give a fuck about.

At this point, I’m just going through the motions.

Maybe that’s why I don’t say anything about hating him.

Maybe I’m waiting for chaos to ensue and our world to crumble.

“Didn’t go at all,” I comment, opening the fridge to grab an iced tea.

“Kenting didn’t show?” Grizz asks, scratching his head.

I pop the cap and face the guys. “He was there.”

Prez raises a brow. “So, what the fuck happened then? The school get swallowed up by a sinkhole?”

I hold his gaze as I take a sip of my drink, wondering what to tell him.

My gut says to tell him the truth because I’m not a fucking liar.

It’s why most people don’t like me. They don’t like my tone or the fact that I say what’s on my mind.

They can’t handle the brutal truth of reality, and that’s what I give people.

No one ever held back for me, so why should I do it for them?

But what do I tell him?

My ex-boyfriend who I loathe showed up, I panicked, told him off, and fled the school?

That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard. I cannot say that.

“Someone showed up that took priority,” I say, leaving it at that.

“What a dick,” Grizz grunts.

“Are you going to reschedule?” Coyote asks, raising a brow.

I’d love nothing more than to tell him to fuck off too. But of course, I don’t.

“I’ve got it handled.” Before he can say something smart that’s going to make me flip the fuck out, I leave out the back door and head to the bar, where I hear the rest of the guys shouting and laughing.

Not my scene, but it’s better than killing the Prez. That would be bad.

“Answer your goddamn phone!” someone shouts .

I hear the faint ring of a cell. Sounds like the ring I use on my phone, but no one calls me. No one who isn’t here. So I take another shot, hoping this is the one that’ll do me in.

Black out.

Death.

Don’t really care which, at this point.

“Snapper, fuck. Answer the damn phone.”

Rhino shoves something against my chest. My vision is blurry, but I grab onto the cell and when I squint at the screen, I see numbers on it. Don’t know what they mean. So I swipe it.

“Yeah?” I say, hoping to sound not as drunk as I feel.

“Finally,” someone says on the other line. “Can we please talk?”

“Who is this?” I ask, gesturing for Trudy to give me another drink as I sway on my stool.

She laughs as she fills the glass, her attention on someone she’s talking to on the side of me.

“Where are you?” the voice says.

“Who the fuck is this?” I return.

“Kolton—”

My spine goes stiff at my name. But not just my name; the way it’s said. The tone in which it’s said. A slower emphasis on the first part, something only one person has ever done. He always said my name like a plea. Like a prayer. Like a beautiful poem.

I quickly end the call, but can’t pull my eyes from the screen. I have eleven missed calls before the one I answered, all from the same number. From him .

He always was obsessed. Said he couldn’t control himself with me.

He took chances and risks. It was dangerous.

But I wasn’t worth the one thing that mattered.

I wasn’t worth getting all of him. All I ever got were the pieces left over.

The little shards that his wife ignored or his son kicked away.

I was never good enough to get the whole thing.

So fuck his risks and chances. Fuck his obsession. Fuck him for being weak too.

Just fuck him.

But the way he says my name keeps ringing in my head, taunting me, threatening me.

Tempting me.

It’s been years since I’ve heard that, and somehow, my body hasn’t forgotten. It remembers how he made me feel all too well, and if anything is dangerous, it’s that. It’s me when I’m with him.

When my phone rings again, I end the call and put it down. It rings again, the sound loud and echoing through the room.

“Damn, you got a stalker or something?” Grizz says with a laugh. He’s on the side of me. When did that happen? How much did he hear? What does he know?

I shut my phone off and shove it in my pocket, ignoring Grizz’s question.

Tonight is not the night I give in to Lucian Carter, no matter how beautifully he says my name.