kick he aimed at Ramon’s stomach and then between his legs. As the bastard howled, I smirked—that was one splinter of pain in my skull that was more than worth it.
“The second I learn that, the second you don’t have to suffer, fuckwit.”
Ramon’s eyes clenched closed, and Jodie-May began to sob.
Unlike him, she wasn’t in the middle of the floor. The Pit was a concrete slab, around twenty-by-twenty feet. It slanted downwards, angling toward the middle of the room where there was a kind of drain. It was a cesspit of sludge, one that Bomber had inserted as it created a fucked-up compost that sunk into the soil around it.
It was either genius or, if the feds ever raided us and dug around in the soil, we were fucked.
So, while Ramon was in the middle of the pit having the shit kicked out of him by Flame, Jodie-May was tied to a chair. Her arms were bound with Saran Wrap to the armrests, her ankles to the legs of the ratty seat.
Did I feel guilty when I looked at her?
Guilt and me had a complicated relationship.
Sure, I knew I should feel guilty, maybe even shame, but she was potentially complicit in a situation that would have put my old lady in danger—there was one code among the sluts that were our sweetbutts, bring no harm to any member of the MC. Our old ladies were at the core of the fucking MC. If she was involved in this shit, she’d committed one of the worst offenses.
Men joined an MC because they needed the brotherhood. Wanted the thrill, the danger. They couldn’t play pretty with other boring fuckers in society and needed out. Needed the freedom that came with this way of life.
Our women didn’t choose the MC. They chose the man. That meant they needed our highest level of respect and protection, something that Jodie-May, stupid bitch that she was, seemed to have forgotten. Because if she’d known that Gutter was helping out? She was as fucked as Ramon was.
A few minutes later, after watching Ramon having the shit kicked out of him some more by Flame who, amusingly enough, looked bored shitless, I could hear the outer doors rattling.
This place was behind a false wall just in case the feds came looking. The door shook, opening with a squeal. Heavy booted footsteps sounded next and… whimpers?
I frowned, turned away from the battered bruise that was Ramon, and waited on the new arrivals.
Gutter’s shoulder looked dislocated—Axe’s signature move when he was pissed off. He was cradling his arm like it was a baby. The second he appeared in the Pit, his eyes flared wide with terror—prospects never learned about the Pit until after they’d been inducted—and his gaze cut over to Ramon.
At first, I could tell he wasn’t sure who the fucker was—with the way Flame had worked him over, I couldn’t exactly blame him—but when understanding dawned, his Adam’s apple bobbed. Then he cut a look at Jodie-May and he was the one who saved her—confusion. It was etched into his features. His brow low, his eyes round with surprise.
Wanting to keep things clean, I dared get up from my seat and, without missing a beat, swooped down, pulled my knife from its sheath in my boot, and began to cut Jodie-May free from the Saran Wrap. She tensed then began to scream behind her gag.
“Shut up,” I hissed. “I’m letting you go.”
“You sure that’s wise?” Wolfe asked, his tone curious, not pissed.
“Gutter didn’t know about her. He would have if she was involved.”
Wolfe shrugged, but because he trusted me, stormed over to Gutter and grabbed his bad arm. The howl of agony that whistled around The Pit had Jodie-May flinching. I wasn’t surprised when she pissed herself. It was a harrowing noise, but I’d heard worse.
When I grunted, her cheeks blanched then blushed as she realized what had happened. Stepping away from the small puddle of piss, I reached over and hauled her shaky ass out of her seat after I’d removed the gag.
“Come on,” I mumbled, guiding her out of there. Behind me, the beatings restarted. Gutter howled again in pain, and Ramon grunted with every kick and hit to his already fucked body.
I didn’t need to hang around to see what was going to happen. They’d get confirmation those bastards were the only ones working together, and once that happened, it would be bye-bye Ramon and Gutter.
Jodie-May was trembling when I guided her through the false