"Here you go Nolan," the bartender hands me a brewski.

The bar is empty as always, save for the rest of my boys and me. Before I can take a sip, my phone vibrates. The person behind the call can either tell me bad or good news. Hopefully, it's the latter. Since it's a bit loud inside and too many ears around, I head outside. Instantly, the humidity hits me. It's hot as a hookers doorknob on payday.

"Talk," I say to the man on the other line.

"For once, I have good news," my informant inside the ATF reports back.

"Explain."

"The higher-ups have given the order to focus on another target. The agents involved with your case must help out the ATF down at Atlanta since yours has gotten cold."

"Why Atlanta?"

"That, I don't know. But it seems an MC over there is giving the local ATF trouble, and since the San Diego field office has much more experience with your kind, they've been tasked to help them out."

"That's all I need to hear," I hang up the phone.

At the front of the bar, a blonde chick comes into view. She's hot as hell. But all of that goes out the window when she hops on my bike. What the hell! Who the fuck does she think she is! As I'm about to put the cunt in her place, a short skinny black girl with overalls tries to pry her off my bike. At least the friend has the good sense to get the blonde out of the situation. I let the friend do the job because if she fails, the blonde will definitely get me a pretty penny. Girls like her, white, blonde, and a banging body, are a hot item ticket for my Mexican connect, Pablo.

The two friends scuffle and the blonde does the unexpected, pushes her friend onto my bike, and sends the other bikes crashing onto the ground. Now, I'm pissed. These fucking bitches are gonna pay. Before I can make a move, the boys come rolling out. They too must have heard the bikes hitting the asphalt.

And what do you know, the blonde flees, with friends like that who need enemies. I see Matthews, the Hell-Night Rider's Secretary is handling the situation. But he let the blonde slip away. Damn, she's fast.

The black girl wriggles her body from side to side to escape Matthew's hold. But she won't get away. Finally, Matthews is getting this all over with because the last thing we want is to draw any more attention to us. We've dodged a bullet with the ATF. We don't need to get a target on us for a little girl.

Matthews hands the girl over to one of the Prospects, who knocks her out with a single punch. Damn, that must have hurt. The new kid has one of the meanest straight punches in HNR. The Prospect brings her inside the club, and I see Matthews inspecting the bikes. I walk up to him to see if our bikes are all right.

"What's the damage?" I ask Matthews.

He frowns. "The fucking bitch scrape a few of the bikes. Got to bring them to the garage and see if nothing is busted."

"You know, you let the other one slip away."

"What other one?"

"The hot blonde."

"Fuck!"

"Yeah, fuck. Are you gonna sell the mattress cover (young woman) to Pablo?"

"I already shot him a text for a new deal on the next Rail (cocaine)."

I walk back inside with Matthews and grab my seat back at the bar. Even though the music is loud, I can still hear the girl screaming her lungs out. Guess the punch didn't knock her out for long. I don't see the Prospect, so he's probably breaking her in. Better get used to it now because Pablo is much worse. God knows where she will wind up - with a greasy, old man or as a psycho's next plaything.

"Damn it. This bitch is fucking loud," I say to no one in particular.

"She needs to learn. Better the Prospect to break her in instead of Pablo. Although, I wish I was the first to hit it. Nothing like fresh pussy," Matthew adds.

"Don't let your Old Lady hear that." I take another sip of my beer.

"Sure not. I'm still getting the cold shoulder from the last time."

Matthew's Old Lady got pissed when she saw him fucking a house mouse at a party. To say the woman was furious is an understatement. But she didn't do anything to him. She wouldn't dare. So, she did the next best thing and gave him the cold shoulder while in the confines of their homes. Matthews asked for it. It's one thing when we're on the road, another while we're at home, where we respect our woman.

"Goddammit, can't Prospect shut the bitch up," Mathew grumbles. The screams are getting louder. But now, things are getting smashed and slapped around. If the damn Prospect can't handle this shit, I'll handle it myself.

I walk towards the back room where the Prospect is keeping the girl. I swing the door open, and the girl's screams blast into my ears. The Prospect is on top of her with his pants around his knees. She's squirming underneath him, and tears stain her round face.

"Please, help me."

A strange feeling washes over me. The girl's pleas tug on my heartstrings.

Before I know it, the following words escape my mouth, "Get off her."

The Prospect gets off of her, and his dick is covered in blood. The chick gets off the bed and scrambles to pull up her blood-soiled overalls. Her face isn't looking any better either. It's already swelled up, with her left eye all black and blue.

"Clean yourself. You look disgusting." I point at the Prospect."

"You, come with me." I point to the girl. She limps to me with blood trailing down her thighs. The Prospect broke her in good.

Damn, how rough was he with her. She stands next to me and mumbles a thank you. I walk out of the room - it's dead silent. The entire club looks at me. I don't owe anyone an explanation, and they know better than to question my authority.

"Give me the keys to the van." Someone throws them at me, and I catch them.

I walk towards the back exit. I look back to see if the girl is following me. She is. At least she knows she's safer with me than with the rest of my boys. Even though it's dark as shit outside, I manage to spot the black van we use for transport. I open the passenger and motion for the girl to get in.

She climbs in, and I head over to the driver's side. We drive towards my house at Kirikwell, which is a two-hour drive from downtown San Diego. It's a small town with only has one diner, one hardware store, one supermarket, one high school - you catch my drift. It's a super small town in the middle of nowhere, and no one comes around unless they're looking for something specific. I glance at the girl, whose silent sobs pull at my heartstrings, is this pity? Am I feeling sorry for her?

"It serves you right for messing with our bikes little girl." I don't tell her what will happen next that I'll sell her to get a deal on my next shipment.

She doesn't respond. Only her rapid blinks confirm she heard me. She wraps her arms around her shoulders, shivering. It's late, and a cold chill has now replaced the humid air.

She's probably freezing. I grab the blanket that's behind her seat and give it to her. She looks at me; apprehension fills her round, black eyes.

"You're shaking like a leaf. She grabs the blanket, but her bloody finger touches my hand.

"S-s-sorry." She averts eye contact with me. Why do I want her to look at me?

"A little blood never hurt anybody," I chuckle.

I've been in literal blood baths - figuratively and literally - a bit of blood is nothing. The girl's hands shake with uncontrollable tremors, but she grabs the blanket and wraps it around herself.

I turn on the radio and a country song from Lawson Brant managed to get on the Top 40 fills the airwaves. I rap my fingers on the steering wheel and start humming. Thankfully, the country hit covers the sound of the girl's uncontrollable tremors.

Soon enough, we reach my house. Well, technically, the white-brick ranch house belongs to my grandmother. I park the van in the driveway and step out to open the passenger door.

"Get out."

I walk towards the front door and open it. The living room is how I left it, and the rest of the house is dead silent save from the TV that's on some fucked up reality show.

"Bathroom is down the hall. Clean yourself up, and I'll bring you something to wear." She nods and limps towards the bathroom. Damn, the Prospect sure fuck the fuck out of her. Before she disappears into the bathroom, I warn her.

"Don't even think of escaping. I will hunt you down, and if I catch you, you'll wish you were back with the Prospect." She nods her pretty little head and goes to the bathroom. Moments later, I hear the shower go off. 

Has a friend ever left you behind? If they have, I hope you're no longer friends.