Havoc (Los Desperados MC)

by Kara Parker

  We had encountered The Bandits seven times in the two weeks since Paul had died. They weren’t looking to rescue me anymore; they were hunting me down. They had tried to attack the clubhouse, but had been beaten back on the road. They had tried to sabotage a drop-off, but had been pushed back by Los Desperados’ superior numbers and firepower. They were getting desperate and everyone could tell. The Bandits thought they were running this town, but underneath the surface Los Desperados had been growing and now they were winning.

  Intercepting The Bandits’ heist would end all of that. It might not destroy The Bandits, but I knew they needed the money and without it they would have to back off Los Desperados and focus on moving goods. If this deal went right it would end the fighting for a long time. That was what I wanted. I wanted this gang war to end so I could get back into the business of driving, only now I would drive for Los Desperados.

  I had put all of my dreams of riding and being with Julian away. I didn’t know who my blocker would be, but Marco told me I would have my pick. It wouldn’t be Julian. I hadn’t been thinking about Julian. My every thought was about that night at the Ace Hotel and what happened to Paul. Where had they put his body? What about the clothes he had been wearing and the bike he had arrived on? But the cleaner was good at his job and the money had been enough to keep the maid quiet. No one had listed Paul as a missing person; there was no hunt for his murderer.

  There didn’t need to be a hunt. His murderer lived at the same address I did only two floors up. I had thought about Julian a little and only recently. After five days of nothing but crying I reminded myself life is for the living and I forced myself to get up and shower and talk to people. It had helped. Marge and Victoria, her girlfriend, were funny and understanding. They gave me clothes to wear and made me spaghetti and we ate it together around their scratched-up kitchen table.

  By then Julian had stopped trying to convince me that killing Paul had been an accident. When we first came back to the clubhouse he begged me to go to his apartment with him. He told me I could have his bed and he would sleep on the couch or even down here in the bar. But that wasn’t good enough. I had made myself a promise that I was done with Julian and I intended to keep it.

  It was easy. Every time I looked at him I saw the hit that killed Paul, or the moments that followed where he called the cleaner to make Paul disappear. He had been cold and ruthless and his hands were the hands that had killed someone I loved. I never wanted to be touched by him again.

  The first day Julian came down to talk to me I refused to open my door. He came back the next day and the day after. On the third day I was filled with terrible rage and anger and I screamed horrible things to him. Everything I said I meant, and after that day he hadn’t bothered coming back.

  It was Marco who came down on day ten. He sat across from me at Marge’s kitchen table and made me an offer.

  “You and I both know you can’t return to The Bandits,” he said. “And, honestly, after seeing what we have, why would you want to? But I don’t permit layabouts in my organization. Everyone works. I recruited you because you’re good, Daniela. I want you to drive for us.”

  “So what do I have to do?” I asked. I hadn’t been thrilled or excited. I still felt numb. Working for Marco felt like brushing my teeth; it was just another thing that had to be done.

  “Tell me when The Bandits next heist is so we can steal it,” Marco said.

  I looked up at him in confusion. And then I understood. Any oath I gave would be meaningless. I had given oaths to The Bandits, but they hadn’t protected me or stopped me from joining Los Desperados when my back had been against the wall. They needed something that would ensure I could never go back to The Bandits.

  “It’s one thing to leave them, to turn my back on them. It’s another thing to betray them.”

  “The Bandits are hyenas, constantly on the edges of our borders, pestering us with pathetic attacks. We are the lions and enough is enough. We need to show them our strength. I’m not interested in a war, Daniela. I’m interested in money for my people and me and waging a war with The Bandits is cutting into our profits. I want them off our back and this is the cleanest way to do it.”

  He left me to think about it. I weighed my decision all night. But in truth Julian had made the decision for me. I knew the best way to defeat The Bandits and that next morning I told Marco and we got to work.

  Now I was standing around a table with my former enemies debating how to rob my former friends. And my former lover, who had brought me here in the first place, was questioning my loyalties. Up was down and black was white and nothing made sense anymore.

  I still didn’t feel like myself. I felt numb and empty and nothing seemed to matter anymore. Normally when planning a heist I got excited and pumped up and my enthusiasm was contagious. But now I felt like some middle manager just going through the motions. There was no thrill in the planning, no fantasizing about how I would spend my cut. There was nothing. I had cried out every last emotion I ever had and now all that was left was this empty husk running on autopilot.

  I worked for Los Desperados because I had nowhere else to go. I planned this heist because it had to be done and I was the best. But there was no joy in my life, no happiness anymore. There were only the terrible memories of the people and life I had lost. My old life was receding in the rearview mirror and the farther away it got, the colder I became.

  We were done. Marco told us to disperse. The men walked away and I took a moment to carefully roll up the map. These days, paper maps were preferred; they left no digital trail. But they were getting harder and harder to come by and I didn't want to lose my good one.

  Map in hand I turned towards the entrance to the basement apartment, but when I turned, Julian was blocking my path. I tried to ignore him and walk around him, but he just moved with me and I couldn't get anywhere. He was a brick wall in front of me that I had no hope of moving. He wasn’t letting me and I was trapped alone with him in the empty clubhouse.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “Move please,” I said to Julian’s chest, refusing to look him in the eye. “I’m tired, just let me pass.”

  “You’re not tired,” he said. “You’ve spent the last two weeks in bed. You’re more rested than anyone else here.”

  “What do you want?” I demanded finally looking up into his green eyes.

  He stared down at me searching my eyes for something. Maybe he was searching for the feelings I had for him, but they were long gone, never to return.

  “I want to know what you’re doing.”

  “I’m working,” I replied.

  “You told me yourself that you would run one day. And now you’re planning heists? I don’t trust it.”

  I looked away and shrugged my shoulders. “Girl’s gotta eat.”

  He took both of my arms in his and turned me so I had to look at him. “Something is going on, Daniela. Why the change of heart now?”

  “Seriously? You’re asking me that? You ruined my life, you killed the only man I’ve ever loved, you destroyed my chance to go back to my gang, and now you won’t even let me be here. I’m here because I have no other choice. Because you took all my choices away.” I could feel pressure in my chest and it made me furious. I didn’t want to cry anymore. I didn't want to feel like this anymore. I didn’t want to be sad, but if I stopped mourning Paul, then what? He would just be forgotten? Didn’t I owe him more than a week of tears, was that all he was worth. “Screw it,” I said. I dropped the map on the floor and walked to the front door of the headquarters.

  “Hey!” Julian called out to me. “Where are you going? You can’t walk away from me!”

  But I could and it felt amazing. I opened the front door and stepped out into the warm California evening. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been outside for more than ten minutes at a time. But the sky was bright above me and the air was clear and it was the perfect evening for a ride.

  Before Julian could stop me I
grabbed my helmet, hopped on my bike, and peeled out of the parking lot. Marge and Victoria had brought my bike back as a sort of surprise. I had left it on the street in my old neighborhood and they had gone out without telling me one night with my keys and brought it back. It was a sweet gesture, but it was also another nail in my coffin with The Bandits. I had my bike, Paul was dead, and there was nothing for me to go back to.

  “Daniela! Don’t leave!” Julian screamed after me.

  But I ignored him. Fuck him. I was starting to feel something on my bike – something that wasn’t anger or frustration or sadness and I wanted more of it. I wanted to feel alive again. I didn’t know if it would be a scar on Paul’s memory, but I couldn’t cry for him anymore. I could still mourn him, but I had to remember I was alive, and riding a motorcycle was the best way to do that.

  There was a roar behind me and I checked my mirrors and, yep, there was Julian hot on my tail as always. I smiled into the rearview mirror. This ride wouldn't be like last time. I was on my bike, instead of a bike built for someone twice as tall as I was, and I was good on my bike. It wouldn’t be easy, but I knew my chances of losing Julian were better than they ever had been before.

  I revved my engine and hit the gas going sixty miles an hour, then seventy, and then eighty. The speedometer just kept climbing, but my bike stayed steady beneath me. I sped down the long empty highway that led to Los Desperados’ headquarters. In the evenings waning light I watched as the rolling hills on either side of me passed and I knew exactly where I wanted to go. I crested a hill and on the way down I hit an exit and sped up even faster, hitting the turn before Julian had come over the hill. He would hit the peak and then have to decide whether to go straight or turn on the exit and follow me.

  But now I was on a busier highway; there were cars and trucks and busses going much slower than I wanted to go. So I went faster. I hunched over on my bike and sped between lanes. I passed cars and trucks and rode on the shoulder while keeping my eyes out for the boys and girls in blue. But fate was with me that night and I didn’t get hassled by anyone as I sped down the highway. I changed lanes until I was driving on the shoulder and when I glanced into my rearview mirror I was shocked and annoyed to see Julian speeding up and catching up with me. I didn’t want to see him; I didn’t want to deal with him. So I kept going and took the next exit that came up.

  It dumped me out into a not very nice neighborhood. But there were fewer cars here and I buzzed down the street as the roar from my bike echoed off the empty buildings around me. I felt like a surfer on an endless wave. I wove back and forth across the street leaning into turns and cutting down alleys and through parking lots with Julian still on my tail.

  He kept trying to gain on me so he could come alongside me. But I was onto that trick by now. Every time he got an opportunity to advance on me I would turn off the road and try to lose him, but his reflexes were still too quick for me to get away with that.

  There had to be some way to beat him at this, but how? He was on me, hunched over on his bike, watching me like a hawk watched a mouse in a field. The road in front of me was opening up into a nice, smooth two-lane highway that was practically empty. I couldn’t help but smile; this was exactly what made riding awesome.

  I revved my engine loudly and sped up until I hit eighty-five before settling into the speed. I drove, just going faster and faster, speeding by cars and trucks and exits and ignoring them all. I felt like I was flying, like I wasn’t tethered to earth any more. I could have just kept going driving on and on forever. I could leave all my problems behind me, except for Julian who was getting closer.

  I didn't care about Julian. I wasn’t running away; I was just running. I needed to feel the fresh air and sunlight on my skin. I needed to see something that wasn't the inside of a biker’s clubhouse. I wasn’t running away. It was more like I was going home. I was headed to the one place from my childhood that had good memories. Maybe Julian would get tired and turn back; maybe he would follow me the entire way. Either way, we would get there and he could see I wasn’t running away and then he could head home back to Los Desperados confident I would return. I had nowhere else to go, anyway.

  The sign above me read: Coastal Road Next Exit and I smiled into my helmet. I stayed in my lane and waited. I noted the other cars on the road, a green sedan, a couple of black SUVs, and a produce truck. I sped up even faster and when I saw the exit I waited until the last possible moment to cut right and hit the exit, riding over the dirt for a minute as I made the hard turn. I glanced in my rearview mirror and, surprise, surprise, Julian had made the exit and he was still catching up.

  I took the exit and it spit me out onto a beautiful coastal road. I stopped trying to outrun Julian; I wasn’t running away for him or anyone else. I was just going for a ride. The road wove through a thick wooded area, leafy green trees created a latticework above me and the sun was setting giving everything an orange glow. It was dark and cool under the trees and other than the sound of mine and Julian’s engines, there was no noise. This wasn’t a well-used road; there were no other cars and I was grateful for that.

  The trees thinned out and faded as I continued down the road and I crested a hill where the ocean opened up in front of me. I breathed in the salty sea air and felt the cool breeze on my skin. The ocean below me was blue and infinite and it made everything that happened to me recently feel puny and unimportant. The white-capped waves were crashing on the empty beaches beneath me as seagulls wheeled overhead and called to each other.

  I made a left and headed down the coastal road. The beach was to my right as I traveled down a large hill. I slowed my speed down; I wasn’t trying to outrun anyone any more. Julian quickly pulled up alongside me and he looked at me through his helmet with confusion in his eyes. I glanced at him, but then put my eyes back on the road and the ocean. I wanted to only see blue seas and blue skies. I wanted there to be nothing else. No gangs, no motorcycles, no exes, no confusion, just sand and sea and sky.

  Finally, I made a left onto a deserted beach. It was too rocky for swimming so not many people came here. But it was one of my favorite spots. I sat on my bike and took my helmet off. The wind ruffled through my hair and I could taste the salt on my lips. There was something about the beach that always made me feel small in a good way. I looked out into the horizon and was reminded that I was looking at the actual curvature of the earth. All the way on the other side of that ocean were different people and different customs completely separate from me and my life. It was a reminder that I wasn’t trapped. That there were always other places I could go, other lives I could start, the new person I could become.

  Julian roared into the parking lot and stopped his bike. He tore his helmet off, jumped off the bike, and pulled out his gun, aiming it right at me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “Get off your bike and keep your hands where I can see them,” Julian said. He was holding his gun with both hands, his feet shoulder’s width apart. His eyes were searching the thin trees and low shrubs around us as if he expected enemies to spring forth and attack him.

  I rolled my eyes and stepped off my bike, but I ignored Julian’s orders. I started walking towards him and his gun. It wasn’t that I wanted to get shot; he was just in my way.

  “What is this? A trap? Did you bring me here so your Bandit buddies can rip my guts out?”

  “Yeah, sure, whatever,” I replied. He had the gun pointed at me, but I kept walking until I walked right past him and towards the shore. I wasn't here for him. I was here for me.

  “Hey!” he shouted at my back. “Stop, where are you going?”

  “What do you want!?” I screamed, turning around to face him. “Why are you following me? I’m not running away! I have nowhere to run to.”

  “So you’re meeting The Bandits here, is that it?” he asked, the gun still pointed at my chest.

  “No, I just like it here and I wanted to come here. I came here once when I was little, and it’s just a nice pla
ce to be. But thank for doing your best to ruin it.”

  He looked confused. He looked around, as if he still didn’t believe me, like he was still waiting for The Bandits to jump out at him from somewhere. Slowly he lowered the gun and slid it back into its holster.

  I shook my head at him. “I wasn’t planning on any company. I don’t normally get tailed. When I want to lose someone, I lose them. But you’re just like this leech stuck on my skin that I can’t get rid of. But good job, you figured me out. I’m going to the beach. It’s not nearly as thrilling as you thought it would be. But I like this place. My childhood is like ninety-nine percent bad memories and that one percent that makes up the good stuff, it all happened here, at this beach. That’s why I came here.”

  Julian looked at the ground and sheepishly ran his hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I thought you were making a break for it. You did promise me you would,” he finally looked up at me, and he didn’t look angry; he looked almost sad.