Havoc- Reapers MC Boxset

by Elizabeth Knox

  After another five minutes of driving, I pull into a parking lot of a hotel chain that I’ve seen a few times before. I had no idea that these hotels were even in the United States. I should’ve known, though. They definitely aren’t a Mexican hotel company. “Does this place make you happy?” I ask him as I park.

  He nods, “Yeah. I’ll get us a room,” Before I know it, he’s already walking away from me, towards the lobby. I turn the key, shutting the truck off and wait for him to return.

  It feels surreal being here right now, to be away from the clubhouse, off and doing my own thing. I knew that it would happen eventually, but I never expected it to happen quite like this.

  Boog comes of the lobby entrance with a keycard, approaching the truck. I hop out of my seat and grab a small duffel, and he grabs one of his own before shutting the doors. His face looks even worse in this lighting, “C’mon, let’s get inside. I need to put some ice on that.” I say, signaling with my head that we get a move on. I don’t know about him but I’m starving, and more importantly, I’m a tad bit anxious.

  Fist is right with everything he said to me. It’s dangerous for me to be out and about like this, but I have to do it for me. Like I said to him, I need to live my life. Feeling trapped isn’t any fun at all.

  Booger walks a few feet ahead of me and I follow him closely as we enter in through the hotel doors, go into the lobby and grab the elevator. As I glance around, I see this hotel is much fancier than I thought it was. We take a step into the elevator as it opens, and then the doors close behind us.

  This feeling is so odd, I can’t help but think as I look at him. We’ve been dying to be alone for ages, and here we are. Yet it’s so different. Almost awkward in a way. “You do some drugs while I was asleep?”

  His question startles me out of my own head, back into the present. “What?” I ask.

  “You’re staring at me like you’ve never seen me in your damn life, or like I’m the hottest dude around. Given our location, I think it’s the latter.” Boog’s stern expression grows into a smile, causing me to do the same. This smile isn’t like any I’ve ever seen from him before.

  I giggle, and lean my body into him. For the first time since knowing him, I can do whatever I want without worrying that he or I will be reprimanded. I can’t explain just how excited I am to see where this goes. The first step is getting off this damn elevator, and boy, I can’t wait to do just that.

  We may have left the club hours ago, but somehow I feel as if the second these doors open is when my life truly begins.

  Chapter 5

  SHE WAS EVERYTHING REAL IN A WORLD OF MAKE BELIEVE. -ATTICUS

  Booger

  I don’t know why I’ve stayed so quiet this long. Honestly, I have no clue. It’s not like Camila and I have never seen each other before, or never have spoken. When we do chat, it’s usually filled with innuendoes and flirtatious jabs. I wonder if because we’re out of the club, if things are different now. If maybe, I’ve suddenly become boring to her.

  I stare at her from the somewhat comfortable couch, looking at her sitting in the windowsill as she overlooks the mountains. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. Have you?”

  “Yes,” My answer shoots out before I even have time to fully process what I’ve just said. She turns to look at me, and all I can think about saying to her is what I’ve wanted to for ages. But, I’m not that hopeless romantic kinda guy. I’m a big, burly biker. We don’t do the romance shit. Fuck, if I don’t wanna tell her that she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I want to, but I’m holding myself back.

  “What did you see?” She asks, pulling her knees to her chest as she stares at me, smiling away.

  Instead of telling her the full truth, I decide to tell her a half one. “In my home state of Iowa, we have something called the Grotto of Redemption. It’s a place that depicts scenes from the life of Jesus, made from manmade minerals and stones. Most wouldn’t know, but I grew up in a very conservative Christian family. We’d drive every summer to the Grotto. When I was a kid, I’d often find myself being annoyed that we’d have to pick up and drive a few hours away to go see it. But as the years passed, I found that what my parents believed in was beautiful. Or… maybe I found their faith beautiful. I’m not really sure.”

  Camila tilts her head at me, “It sounds like a pretty place. Will you take me to it someday?”

  I nod, smirking at the girl. “Yes, if you really want to go.” “I’d love to see this place you speak of. I have a question,

  though.”

  “Ask me anything,” I say, realizing at this moment that Camila and I don’t know too much about one another. We may have been in each other’s company for a long time, but never did we go in depth into our pasts. Although, I can understand why she didn’t. It doesn’t take an idiot to figure out hers is grueling and filled with pain.

  “Did you find your faith in the club? The faith that your parents had for Jesus, for their religion?”

  I nod. In a way, I think I did find that same faith with brotherhood. I was always in search of something close to what they had with God, but I couldn’t find it for so long. Eventually, I found it in the club and in finding that missing piece of my life, I lost my family in the process.

  “Good. I did too,”

  “What do you mean?”

  Camila hops off the windowsill and walks towards the bed, sitting on the corner as she speaks. “I think that I lost my faith in God after my mother was killed. It’s not his fault… what happened, but for so long I was lost. So much had happened, and then I was in a safe place with the Reapers. That is where I found my faith again, with all of you.”

  I want to press her for more information, to find out all the missing pieces of the puzzle that is Camila. But I don’t, I know that in our own time she will tell me about herself. Even if it feels like we’re still two strangers. One day, we’ll be so much more than that. I just need to have faith, oddly enough.

  “You have never asked me about my past.”

  I shake my head, “No, I haven’t. It’s not my job to press you to find out what happened. I figure you’ll end up telling me when you want to tell me, if you even do.”

  Her face contorts in a way that makes me feel like I’ve slapped her across the face. “Why wouldn’t I want to tell you? I want you to know about me, like I want to know about you.”

  “I understand that people like their privacy, princess. I’m just not gonna push you to tell me anything you aren’t ready for.”

  She scoffs while rolling her eyes at me. “Fine. Let me spell it out then!” Her voice goes from a normal tone to a downright pissed one. I don’t even know why she’s pissed, but I’m guessing I don’t have to understand because she’s Latina. These bitches be crazy. “My father worked for the Mexican cartel and did something bad. I don’t know, or maybe I don’t remember. Our house was raided and my mother was shot point blank in front of my sister and I. The cartel kingpin, Rafael Ramirez took my sister and I as payment for whatever my father did to him. We were split up and carted away to different places. Long story short, eventu-ally I ended up with the Reapers.”

  “Jesus,” I mutter, rubbing my hand over my face. Never did I think she was tied up in this sorta deep shit. Now every-thing clicks together for me. I finally understand why Fist was so cautious when it came to Camila, and why he had an even bigger problem with her coming to Vegas with me. Rafael has his men around the border, which means they’re not too far from Vegas… and if one of them recognizes her…

  Shit.

  I made a promise to protect Camila, and that’s one that I will not break. Like I told Fist, I’ll do anything to keep her safe, and I mean anything.

  Chapter 6

  SOMETIMES THE BAD THINGS THAT HAPPEN TO US IN OUR LIVES, PUT US DIRECTLY IN THE PATH TO THE BEST THINGS THAT WILL EVER HAPPEN TO US. -ANONYMOUS

  Camila

  “What’s wrong?” I ask Booger, who looks more confused than I’ve ever see
n him. He’s staring at his phone, looking around back and forth. It’s like he thinks that something is missing.

  “What’s wrong?” I repeat again, needing to know what’s happening. We left Salt Lake City a few hours ago and just arrived outside of Las Vegas. I’m glad that I made the deci-sion to stop when we did, because we both needed food in our bellies and some decent sleep. I’ll admit, it was kind of awkward being around Booger alone. With no one watching, or eavesdropping on our conversations. Fist may still think that I never picked up on any of that, but I did. It was blatantly obvious what he was doing.

  “This is the place, but do you see any trailers? Whole joint is empty, Camila. Shouldn’t be like this.” He talks in half sentences and types away on his phone quickly. I hear the sound of a text being sent, and as soon as the sound is made, he tosses his phone in the cup holder of his truck.

  “Why wouldn’t the trailers be here?”

  “Sweetheart, I wish I knew. Roman and Fist were supposed to make sure they were here. I’m not the one who arranged this shit.” My brows furrow together at the way he just spoke to me. There’s no need to take out his frustration on me. All I did was just ask a question. “Shit, I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect us to get down here with literally no place to live. All of this was supposed to be handled, and obviously it isn’t.”

  Booger’s phone ping’s, signaling that he’s gotten a text back. He picks up his phone and I watch as his eyes dart back and forth as he reads. “Motherfucker!” He growls, angrily tapping away. “Looks like we’re going to stay at a motel tonight. Trailer’s aren’t supposed to be delivered until late tonight, or possibly early tomorrow morning. Apparently, they couldn’t find anyone to have the trailer sizes we needed so last minute, so they ordered a few more from another company. I say we’ll come back tomorrow afternoon after everything is set up correctly.” His voice is still stern and aggravated, which tells me that something is bugging him.

  “What’s bothering you?”

  Booger puts his phone back in the cup holder and leans back in the driver’s seat of the truck. “We have to head into town when we don’t know anything about the area, babe. At least if we were here, no one would come up buggin’ us. I’m the only one here right now. Brotherhood is a few days behind us and the rest of the Reapers should be here tomor-row. Which basically means if we run into the wrong people, we’re fucked cause I’m outnumbered.”

  “Why are you so worried something bad will happen?” I don’t understand. We may have had our fair share of shit back up in Montana, but that doesn’t mean that we will down here.

  “Because something will. We’re the outsiders here, Camila. The other gang’s and MC’s don’t know shit about us or our reputation, and they’ll only learn to either fear or respect us as we’re making sure we’re prominent in their community. I can’t be prominent when there’s only one of us down here. It’s risky finding a motel, and I didn’t wanna put either of us in a risky situation. Just thought this shit would be handled, and it’s not.”

  “Well, we can’t do anything about it. So, we just need to handle whatever comes our way.” I offer, trying to put a posi-tive spin on it. I know he wasn’t planning for this, and while the fact it’s just the two of us makes me a little uneasy after hearing what he’s just said, I need to hide the fact I’m concerned.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Fist wants us to find a motel close to where the club is gonna be, so we’d better do that.” He mutters, pulling his truck out of park, he takes off down the interstate.

  After about fifteen minutes, we’ve gone up and down the interstate and have found the closest motel to our new club-house location. It’s nothing grand, in fact, it’s probably one of the slummiest places I’ve ever been to. Funny, considering we were just at a really nice hotel yesterday. “I thought you don’t like bed bugs,” I comment, jabbing him in the side with my elbow.

  “Shit. Beggars can’t be choosers. Fist told me to stay close to the club, and Damon told me the same shit. Now that Damon is the charter Prez for our Vegas location, I have to follow his orders.”

  I may have been with the Reapers for a while, but I still don’t fully understand what’s happening. “What does being a charter Prez mean?”

  “Eh, means that Damon is the Prez of our Vegas club-house. He acts on Fist’s orders, but his role is to provide lead-ership to the full patched members and prospects that will be down here. Think of it like this, it would be stupid for someone to open up a second ice cream shop and not have a manager there, right?”

  “Yeah, they might not work. They could misbehave. Employee’s need supervision.” I burst out numerous reasons on why it wouldn’t work.

  “Exactly. But not only do we need supervision, we need a leader to turn to that’s close to us when shit hits the fan. Then there’s the perception aspect. How we’re perceived by other people.” I nod, acting like I understand. Boog doesn’t need to know that I don’t understand a lot of it.

  “C’mon, we should get inside. You already know I’m leery about this place to begin with.” He tells me. I follow his lead and get out of the truck, grabbing a duffel and follow him. We both head to the window that’s carved out for people to check in. An older man sits there, with a glock sitting behind the glass. “You cause no problems here. Yes?” I don’t mistake his accent at all.

  “Hola,” I offer him a hello and smile.

  “Hola… novia.” He says hello to me and calls me sweet-heart, but the way he says it only creeps me out. I don’t miss the way Boog’s expression turns into a stern look at the old man calling me sweetheart.

  “We just need a room.” He growls out, handing the man a hundred-dollar bill. “We’ll be here for one night.”

  “Ah, I see.” The man takes Boog’s hundred and I watch as his eyes catch his cut. “Reapers… ah.” He turns his neck to reveal a tattoo, one that I’ve seen many times before. I was only a tad bit anxious before, but now I’m even more so.

  We’ve just walked into the viper’s den, literally.

  Boog and I just paid to stay at a motel owned by the Vibora. None other than the gang that Rafael is known to do countless business with. “Not looking for any trouble, amigo. Just need a place to sleep so we can be on our way.”

  “You aren’t staying?” He questions, looking at both Boog and I.

  I interject, hoping he’ll believe what I have to say. “No, no. Estamos de paso.” I inform him that we’re just passing through, and the man smiles, revealing countless golden teeth.

  Dios Mio. What have we gotten ourselves into?

  Chapter 7

  I DIDN’T COME THIS FAR, TO ONLY COME THIS FAR. -ANONYMOUS

  Camila

  “I don’t like this place. I have a bad feeling,” I say aloud, approaching the window I peek through the curtains and look outside. It’s just past two in the morning and every moment I’m here, the stronger the eerie feeling washes over my body. It’s like somehow, I know something is about to happen. The last time I had this sense of déjà vu is the night my mother was murdered.

  I hear his feet hit the floor, taking one step in front of the other. “Yeah, you’re tellin’ me.” He places his hands on my shoulders, rubbing them back and forth in a soothing way. “Does it make you anxious being so close to the border?”

  I turn my head back to look at him, letting out a sigh. “In a way, yes. I try not to let it, though. I know that you won’t let anything happen to me.”

  Booger’s hands graze over my shoulders and continue to go further down my body. First, he cascades down my arms and brings his hands to my sides, before pulling me closer against him. His chin sits on my shoulder, holding me close against his chest. “You’ve got that right, Princess.”

  I take in a deep breath and close my eyes. For so long I wanted to be in this moment. The one where his arms are wrapped around my body and he’s reassuring me. It feels like a fairytale, like I’m the princess that he always calls me. I’m still anxious for what’s to come,
not knowing if he and I will even amount to anything, but I want to find out. I’m pretty sure he does too. I turn my body around and press mine against his. We have a small nightstand light on and while it doesn’t illuminate the room fully, it does just a little bit. I watch the way Boog’s eyes flash across my body, from what I can imagine he’s trying to assess my next move.

  I take my hand and graze his cheek, feeling the prickly sensation of his few day old facial hair growing in. Boog has a good few inches on me, so I stand up on my tippy toes and bring my face closer to his. For so long I’ve thought about this moment, wondering what it would feel like. If I’d like it. If I wouldn’t. Dreaming about Booger was something that I found so natural, and now I don’t have to daydream anymore. Here he is, right in front of me.

  He leans in, bringing his close, a mere centimeter away from mine. Every part of me wants to make the first move, to show him I’m this strong, fearless woman that he knows. But I find myself terrified at this moment. Terrified of what could be. But you know what’s even scarier than that? Not knowing if I don’t take the chance.

  My lips press against his in a sweet and slow manner. His hands hold me against him, running up and down my back, encouraging me to continue. I wrap my hands around his neck, moving in closer to him because that’s where I want to be. As close to him as I can. I’ve wanted this moment for so damn long and now I find myself not wanting to let go of it.

  Our lips break away for a moment and he tells me some-thing I can understand as well. “I’ve often had dreams about this moment. About the way my lips would feel on yours, with my arms wrapped around you. I gotta say, nothing compares to the real thing.”

  I snicker and smile brightly at him. I don’t think that anything about the man screams romantic, but I can see through the façade he puts up. He’s most certainly a hopeless romantic, in every sense of the word.