Havok: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

by Riley Rollins

  "Dammit!" shouted Axl, pounding his fist on the bike's handlebars. He gingerly pulled his leg back over the bike, one arm across his chest, holding his injured shoulder. He moved at a half-walk, half-jog toward the bench, extending an arm to the boy underneath.

  The boy reciprocated, reaching his hand out to Axl as well, when a loud shriek broke the silence. The boy's mother came running toward Axl, screaming hysterically.

  "Don't touch my son!" she screamed, her voice chaotic and uncontrolled. She reached out, slapping Axl's arm, and pushed him away from the child. "Killer!" she shrieked.

  Axl backed up from the woman, hardly reacting to the rain of slaps and swipes the woman was directing toward him. I could barely make out his face, but I thought that I saw a pained look on it. But as soon as I saw it, it vanished, and Axl turned back toward me and the bike, jogging as fast as he could.

  Without saying a word, he grabbed his skullcap helmet from where it hung on the handlebars, slapped it onto his head without bothering to fasten the chin strap, and started the bike.

  I put my hands around him, holding on for dear life as we thundered away from the Four Corners park. The bike growled between our legs as Axl twisted the throttle hard and pushed it to its limits. As we roared onto the highway entrance ramp, Axl dipped his head down, looking into one of the rearview mirrors that extended away from the bike's ape bars. He raised his fist, his thumb pointing backward, and jerked his arm to indicate for me to turn around. I twisted my head as we rode further away, and I saw flashing red and blue lights back at the park. But they weren't coming after us.

  We'd gotten away just in the nick of time. We were safe.

  For now.

  Overhead, the sun had passed well beyond the sky's apex, as the arid desert environment settled into the groove of another summer afternoon.

  But for me, it wasn't just another afternoon. I couldn't get the image out of my head of the man falling. The way it'd felt when the red brick in my hand struck his head. It was unlike anything I'd felt before. A soft crunching, rigid yet organic. I'd never hurt a soul in my life, nor had I ever truly felt the desire to do so. And as much trouble as I was having coming to terms with what I'd just done in the heat of the moment, I was surprised at how little remorse I felt.

  That man had come to kill us, and in this new world I'd found myself in, it was dog-eat-dog. Him or us. If I hadn't done what I did, it would've been me and Axl laying in a ditch, being discovered by the cops right now. Whatever else I felt, I felt sure of that.

  I also felt sure that I'd done exactly what I wanted to. Yeah, I could've kept hiding behind the wall. Waited for the cops, and told them everything. Cleared my name. But it would've come at the cost of Axl's life. And although I didn't know what we had, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that had happened.

  A chill came over me. I had entered a new world indeed. And as we rode on the highway, it didn't just feel like we were riding away from the Four Corners park. It felt like we were riding away from everything I'd known in my life.

  I held onto Axl for dear life, the pavement rushing past us just inches below my feet. The engine roared, and the wind whipped through my hair faster and faster.

  21

  Axl

  A Demon. The motherfucker had been a Demon.

  It didn't make any fucking sense. Demons were based out of Nevada. Had never been interested in pushing up against our territory. I wouldn't fuckin' turn my back to one of 'em if I didn't have to, but this… This'd come out of nowhere.

  Ryker and the club would be pissed to hear from me, but I had to get in touch with them. And fast.

  As the bike cruised down the open highway, my thoughts drifted to Holly.

  She'd killed for me, just like I'd done for her. She'd kept me breathing on this miserable fuckin' Earth for a little bit longer.

  And I didn't know what I thought of that. I was grateful to still be kickin', yeah. But I'd never wanted her to get blood on her own hands. She was too good for that. My hands were too stained to ever come clean, but she'd had a chance.

  Hated to see that happen. But goddamn, was she a loyal woman. Maybe even worthy of becoming an old lady. Wasn't everyday that you found a woman that'd do something like that for you.

  I reached back with one hand and tapped her on the arm. I turned my head and shouted over the wind, "Water."

  I felt her shift her body, dipping her hand down into one of the bike's saddlebags, and then she handed me a canteen after unscrewing the lid for me. I took it from her and brought it to my lips, drinking deeply. The water was hot from sitting in the saddlebag all day but it still rejuvenated me. Provided my body the raw materials it needed to rebuild, for my heart to pump me full of all the blood I'd lost.

  I reached behind my back again, handing the canteen back to her. She took the canteen, and then my fingers found the bare skin of her forearm.

  I left my hand behind my back like that as we rode, steadying the bike with one hand only. I ran my fingers along her skin, savoring the smoothness that contrasted with the choppy, violent wind and grit that blasted into us as we rode fast on the highway.

  Then I traced my fingers down toward her palm, grabbed her hand in mine, and squeezed. I linked my fingers with hers, and rested my hand in her lap behind me.

  Yeah. I guess I was feeling a little sentimental or some shit. But damn, I wanted her again. One night hadn't been enough. I needed to blow off some steam, to bring her in close, and show her just how fuckin' sexy and strong I thought she was.

  I looked down at the bike's console. The gas light had come on. Right now I had to pull my shit together, focus, and figure out what the hell was going on. But goddamn, I hoped that tonight we'd be able to satisfy each other over and over again, until the first rays of the sun came up.

  I pulled off the highway at the next rest stop, parking next to a gas station convenience store. I hopped off the bike to let Holly dismount the passenger seat. The muscles in my legs felt stiff. My ass was killing me. I was finding out about muscles I never even knew I had.

  "I'm going to the bathroom," she said. Her hair blew in the wind, beautiful against the bright blue sky. Jesus, I couldn't understand the effect she had on me. It was like fuckin' morphine.

  "Alright," I grunted. "I gotta call Ryker and figure this shit out." She turned and started to walk away, but I spoke again. "Hey," I said.

  I stepped toward her as she spun around, and then took her cheeks in my palms. I pressed my lips against hers hungrily, tasting her and taking in her incredible, feminine scent that drove me wild.

  I pulled my lips back from hers and looked her in the eyes. "You did great back there, doll," I said. "I owe you."

  She swallowed hard, seeming to have a lump in her throat. She put on a smile. "Returning a favor. I guess." She turned and walked toward the convenience store.

  Sighing, I sat back against the parked bike, and pulled out my cellphone. I dialed Ryker. Fuck. This was going to be a shitshow.

  When Ryker's voice came on, I didn't know if I'd ever heard him so pissed off. "Why the fuck should I talk to you?" was his greeting.

  I winced as his voice blasted into my eardrum, and turned down the phone's volume. "Listen," I said, "There's shit you gotta know."

  He paused, and I could practically feel the anger seething out of the phone's speaker. "What?"

  "We were up north by the border. Though we were outta reach. But I took a bullet. From a Demon."

  "From a fuckin' what?"

  "Yeah."

  He paused, growling something unintelligible. "We're clashing with Reapers here. Shit's a mess. Two incidents alone, today, at least four of their guys and one of ours."

  My stomach sank at the news of yet another death in our club. "Which one?"

  "Ricky."

  "Fuck."

  "Look," said Ryker, "I ain't heard anything about Demons getting mixed up in this melee. I'll put feelers out and call you. For God's sake, keep your guard up."

 
"Boss," I said, hesitating to finish my sentence. "You want us back there? I ain't tryin' to leave the club high and dry."

  Ryker's voice remained angry, but took on a new tone of solemnness. "Nah," he said. "You do what you gotta do, but we don't need a deserter in our ranks."

  Shit. Yeah, I'd been Ryker's favorite for a long time, but I'd crossed him bad when I disobeyed orders and picked up Holly. And he wasn't a man to take betrayal lightly.

  "So what happens when this all blows over?" I asked.

  "Axl, my friend," he said, "There's gonna be hell to pay. You know what this means."

  I swallowed hard. I knew, alright.

  If I showed up at my club again, I was gonna face a Mayhem vote. To decide whether I lived or died.

  22

  Holly

  I exited the convenience store, leaving the temporary air-conditioned paradise and returning to the baking outdoors. It was late in the afternoon, and the desert day had reached peak hotness.

  Axl stood next to his bike, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. As I approached him, I saw that he held a lit cigarette between his fingers. He held the other hand over his injured shoulder, blocking the bloodied and torn bullet hole from any nosy passers-by. I felt sorry for him. But he looked even more like a handsome movie star badass than before.

  Damn. If only he'd gotten picked up by a Hollywood agent instead of a dirty biker club, his life would've turned out a lot differently.

  "Didn't know you smoked," I said.

  "Bummed it off a guy. Only on special occasions."

  He brought the cigarette to his lips and took another drag. "What now?" I asked. No one was within earshot, but my voice came out almost a whisper.

  "Gotta split ASAP. Cops are gonna get our description."

  "They'll be looking for a guy and a girl on a motorcycle," I said. Suddenly I felt very nervous about standing next to Axl and his bike, here in the convenience store parking lot.

  Axl thought a moment. "Yeah," he said with a sigh. "Gotta ditch the bike." He sighed.

  Axl finished up his smoke, grabbed a couple things from the bike's saddlebags, and said, "Come on." We left the bike sitting there and headed around the back of the store. A couple cars sat parked next to a large dumpster.

  "Looks like we're driving a fuckin' cage today," Axl said.

  He proceeded to jimmy open the driver's door of a crappy little Honda hatchback using a piece of wire from the dumpster. I eyed the rear employee exit of the store nervously as he did so, and it felt like days passed. But in reality he had the thing busted open and started in what was probably less than two minutes.

  We got in the "cage," as he called it, and hit the road again.

  I watched the passenger side mirror nervously throughout the whole ride, watching for blue and red lights in the background. They didn't come. Thank God.

  Axl took us to a small town whose name I didn't know, and we found a dinky little military surplus store.

  "You've gotta go in alone," said Axl, "Can't do it myself with this shoulder." His jacket was badly stained and caked with blood. Yeah. That would've been a mistake.

  He sent me in with a short list, and I got us changes of clothes, a small tent, and a couple boxes of freeze-dried foods. I wasn't looking forward to eating this crap, but what choice did we have? We were now two fugitives on the run, and I guessed we weren't gonna be staying in any more motel rooms for a while.

  We filled up the car and then we drove again. We sat in silence in the stolen vehicle. I could tell that Axl's mind was troubled. Not because of his hurt shoulder, but because of something else. Because of the man who'd tried to shoot us back at Four Corners. Because of who the man was. A Demon, who was apparently a member of a friendly motorcycle club, who shouldn't have been involved in this Reaper dispute.

  And inside, I was troubled, too. Not because he'd been a Demon. Simply because he'd been a man.

  I was conflicted, my morality gnawing at me. The clarity of mind that I'd felt earlier as we rode away from Four Corners had faded away, and I was starting to question myself more than ever. Was I becoming just like the bikers? Were these kind of justifications the way that people descended into a lifetime of crime?

  I felt sorry for myself, and then for the man, and then for neither one of us. And I seemed to repeat the cycle over and over again in my head. I didn't think I'd ever be able to be like Axl. To be able to ruthlessly kill, remorselessly, for those I loved. I'd done it once but I didn't think I'd be able to do it again. And I really hoped I wouldn't have to make the choice again.

  Axl finally spoke up as I watched the pavement go by outside. It was dusk outside, the Arizona sky a beautiful canvas of oranges, blues, and purples. "We camp tonight in Devil's Canyon."

  I'd never heard of Devil's Canyon, and it didn't sound like a place I wanted to be. But what choice did we have?

  We reached the canyon after nightfall. It was an isolated, desolate area, and the canyon was less a majestic place, more a filthy rock pit. But under the starry night sky as we pitched the tent, I finally felt a little bit of mental calmness for the first time since Four Corners. No one would find us out here. Not tonight.

  Inside the tent, we lay side by side under a couple of rough blankets that'd come with the military surplus tent, our bodies not touching.

  Then, Axl's hand wandered over mine, and onto my stomach. He pressed his hand against the hard muscles of my belly, and then began to slide his hand up to my breasts. Turning onto his side to face me, he cupped my left breast in his hand under my t-shirt, the rough calluses on his palm scratching against my nipple.

  "Babe," he said, "I fuckin' want you so bad right now."

  Inside the tent, it was pitch black and we couldn't see each other's faces. But if he'd been able to see mine, it would've been a frown. I wanted him, too, for him to fill me up again just like he'd done at the motel. I wanted him to give me everything, and to lose myself in ecstasy for just a while. But I was exhausted, and it just didn't feel right after what I'd done to that Demon earlier.

  I pushed Axl's hand away from my breast. "Can you just hold me?" I asked.

  Suddenly his demeanor turned cold. He grunted. "Whatever," he said. I felt him turn away from me instead of putting his arm around me like I wanted him to. Soon, his breath became regular, rising and falling in a sleep cycle.

  I lay on my back, staring straight up in the darkness. Sleep came slowly, and when it finally overtook me, my dreams were nightmares.

  23

  Axl

  When I returned to the wakeful world, green light was filtering through the camouflage fabric of the tent. For a fucked-up minute, I couldn't remember where I was.

  Then I felt the pain in my shoulder and everything came back to me. I rolled over to where Holly had been lying next to me, but the woman was gone.

  I vaguely remembered blowing her off when she didn't wanna fuck. Shit. I felt like a real asshole over that. But I'd needed a release so fuckin' bad after yesterday.

  And God, I still did now. My cock was rock hard under a pair of boxer briefs that we'd picked up at the surplus store. As I lay on my back, I reached down and wrapped one hand around my stiff tool. Fuck, I was so hard, but no way was I gonna pressure her. I wasn't a fuckin' brute and I could tell she had shit on her mind. But I had to get a release.

  I spit on my hand, reached under the fabric of my boxers, and wrapped my hand around my erect dick. I began to jerk my hand up and down the length of my shaft. In my mind I pictured Holly there next to me, naked and on her knees, begging me to take her.

  Jesus, I wanted to have her again so bad. I'd never felt like this about any chick before. I thought back to the way her firm ass had felt pressed against my hips as I plowed into her, balls deep. I squeezed my hand harder around my cock and jerked faster, recalling how her perky little breasts had felt in the palms of my hands as I'd exploded inside her. And it pushed me over the edge.

  "Oh, fuck," I said under my breath. My dick began
to pulse, shooting its creamy, pent-up load all over my t-shirt and the blanket. But I didn't give a fuck. It felt so fucking good to get off to her. Next time it had better fucking be inside her.

  I took off my bloodied t-shirt and used it to clean up, and realized how hot it was in the tent. Jesus. I pulled my jeans on, opened the flap, and stepped outside into the hot, bright blue morning.

  I felt a clarity of mind that I hadn't had in the last couple days. I was pretty sure that this bullshit with the Demons was being driven directly by fucking Vargas. That fat piece of Reaper shit was reckless enough to try turning the Demons against the Sons.

  My train of thought was interrupted by Holly. I saw her standing by the cage, and she was topless also. She held one of our water jugs and she was scrubbing her shirt between her hands. She hadn't noticed me yet, and I watched her beautiful body as she worked. Her skin was light and pale in the morning sun, her waist slender and her breasts tight against her chest. God, she was gorgeous. My cock stiffened in my pants again, and I felt like no amount of release would be enough. Trying to drain my balls with her around was like trying to drain the fucking Niagara Falls.

  I walked toward her and the cage. When she noticed me approaching, she turned toward me and crossed her arms over her chest. I grinned at her.

  "Don't stop, darlin'" I said. I could see her eyes roaming over my bare chest and six pack. But then I saw them turn to the wound on my shoulder, and she furrowed her brow, still crossing her arms and hiding her breasts.

  "How's the shoulder?" she asked.

  I extended my arm and rotated my shoulder, stretching and testing the muscles. There were no more sharp pains, just a dull ache. "Better," I said. "Fucking glad the bullet didn't lodge. Could've gotten real nasty."