Havok: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

Home > Romance > Havok: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance > Page 28
Havok: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Page 28

by Riley Rollins


  "Yeah," said Dash. "She's alright."

  "Good," I said, thinking back to my childhood in the foster system. "'Cause she's about to be a single mom."

  I pried with the crowbar, grunting as I applied force, and the sliding glass door finally popped open. "Hold this," I said, passing the crowbar to Dash. I grabbed the door handle and pulled it hard, wrenching the door open.

  We stepped inside, and I surveyed the living room. Typical family feel. Pretty clean. Not what you'd expect from a biker. I wondered how Lynch had become such a piece of shit. From seeing his place, you'd have thought he was a totally normal guy.

  Dash followed behind me, looking around.

  "Nice," I said, tapping my boot on the tiled floor. "Easy clean-up if things get messy."

  "Yeah," said Dash. From behind me, his voice sounded unusually tense.

  "Everything good, man?" I said, looking around the room for the best hiding spot.

  "Yeah," said Dash. "Hey VP," he said. "Come here and look at this."

  I pivoted around on one heel.

  The last thing I saw was Dash raising his arm, and bringing the crowbar smashing down onto my head.

  32

  Holly

  Our convoy rumbled down the highway, seven or eight bikes in front of us. I sat in the passenger seat of the chase vehicle, a van that followed the bikes in case one broke down. Its cargo area was outfitted with tie-downs for two bikes, and it was also outfitted as a makeshift ambulance. These NOMADs really knew how to prepare.

  I was worried sick about Axl after what that Demon told me. I'd been calling him nonstop, but none of my calls were getting through. They all went to voicemail, and now I'd completely filled up his inbox. I'd blown up his phone with texts.

  Nothing. Nothing was getting through, and I had no way to reach him. I was horrified at the thought of losing the only man that I'd ever truly wanted to be with. I thought back to how it felt to be in his arms, to be snuggled up against him at night, and to have the security of knowing that he'd do anything—absolutely anything—to protect me. I'd never met a man like that before and I doubted I ever would again. I wanted him to be safe and healthy, and I wanted us to be together.

  "Where do we look first?" I asked Big Mikey.

  "When we chopped that cage y'all rode in, we threw a GPS tracker on it," said Big Mikey.

  "You what?"

  "That's SOP," said Big Mikey. "Standard operating procedure. We like to keep tabs on the vehicles that pass through our shop."

  "Well," I said, "I hope it pays off. Do you know where it is now?"

  "Yeah," he said. "Mesa suburb. Been sitting on a residential street for the last half hour. Got my guy back at the compound researching points of interest around the area. We'll find out what's around there and get to the bottom of this. Try calling again."

  I dialed Axl again with the same result. "Nothing," I said.

  Big Mikey's face was grim. "Alright. Hang tight 'til we get there."

  We rode in silence for about ten minutes, then Big Mikey's cell phone rang. "Yo... Apple Grove and Campbell Street. Got it." He hung up the phone. "We've got an intersection on the vehicle."

  My heart thumped hard in my chest, and the next fifteen minutes passed as slowly as an eternity. Finally, as we approached our highway exit, Big Mikey passed the bikes and led the way into the suburbs. The streets got smaller and smaller until we were in the twists and turns of a small neighborhood. The sun was going down, but it was still light out. I was worried about the convoy of bikes attracting attention, but Big Mikey didn't seem worried about it, and I trusted his judgment.

  Finally, I saw a street sign that said "Campbell," and we turned onto it. "There!" I blurted, pointing to the now-repainted hatchback. I unbuckled my seat belt and started to open the passenger door before Big Mikey even stopped the van.

  "Wait—" he said, but I jumped out of the van the instant it lurched to a stop, and rushed across the street to the car.

  It was empty—no sign of Axl.

  Big Mikey jogged up next to me, cupped his hands against the glass of the car, and looked inside. "Damn," he said. "Alright, lemme make a call." He dialed on his phone again. "Yo. We're here but car's empty... Yeah... Results from the database? Addresses to check out? I can't just go knockin' on every door on the street... Okay, great." He hung up and looked at me.

  "We got a lead. The Sons's road captain lives one street down."

  "Road captain?" I said. "Shit, that's Lynch!"

  "Oh, fuck," said Big Mikey, his face dropping. "Let's go."

  Big Mikey and I walked toward the next street on the sidewalk, moving fast, leaving the chase van parked where it was. A couple bikers rumbled on the street next to us, turning their heads back and forth and scanning for any signs of danger. Big Mikey kept his right hand on the gun under his jacket.

  We passed a man and woman walking their dog, and they eyed us worriedly, walking off the sidewalk into the dirt and slinking around us. I was definitely beginning to understand biker psychology. The power was addicting. It felt good to have people step out of your way.

  But I didn't have time to ponder the subtleties of power dynamics right now. All I wanted was to find Axl safe and sound.

  "That's the one," said Big Mikey, pointing to a short, tan adobe house. We rushed across the street, almost running. There were no cars in the driveway. I jumped forward to run up the steps to the front door, but Big Mikey put out one arm and held me back. He drew his gun and stepped toward the door, cautiously. He reached out to the handle and wiggled it. "Locked. Around the back."

  My whole body was tense, and I was afraid of finding the worst. The house was too quiet.

  I followed Big Mikey around into the backyard. "Door's been forced," he said. "Stay put 'til I give a signal. I'm goin' in."

  I stood nervously on the back porch, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to steady my breathing. Two more bikers came around the side of the house on foot, and entered where Big Mikey had gone in. I heard scuffling and yelling inside, but it didn't sound like a fight. Finally, I heard, "Shit! Clear!" Then, my heart sank when I heard the word "Medic!"

  Big Mikey came bounding out of the house.

  "He's hurt bad. But he's breathing."

  33

  Axl

  When I woke up, I had no fuckin' clue where I was. My head was pounding something fierce. A million times worse than any hangover. Never felt anything like that in my goddamn life.

  My first reaction was to call out for Holly. Had she been with me? Did these fuckers get their hands on her?

  My second reaction was to start swinging, and I caught a motherfucker right on the jaw. Blood sprayed out of his busted lip, and droplets spattered onto my face and lips. Not fucking again. I spat, trying to clear out my mouth. I tasted the unmistakeable, metallic flavor of blood.

  "Fuck!" A voice shouted. "Hold him down."

  I tried to swing again. If I was going down, I was taking this motherfucker with me, whoever he ways. But I felt my hands being held down at my sides. "Fuck!" I screamed. My vision was blurred, and I couldn't fucking see shit.

  "Axl! It's me," said a soothing female voice.

  "Holly?" I said, bewildered. I tried struggling again, but I was completely pinned down.

  "Babe, it's me," she said. "You're alright."

  My cloudy vision began to clear. I looked side to side. I was in some kind of compartment, lying on my back. Holly sat to my left, and a biker I didn't recognize sat to my right. He was holding a towel to his mouth, and it was stained red.

  "Where am I?" I said, dazed.

  "Axl, it's me. We found you in a house. Bleeding on the floor." She reached out and pushed my hair up, caressing my forehead. "Tell us what happened."

  I was still woozy. "Who's this motherfucker?" I stumbled over my words as I spoke.

  "The medic," said the biker gruffly. "Don't fuckin' hit me again."

  What the fuck? A medic?

  "Where am I?" I repeated.
>
  "In the NOMAD ambulance," said Holly. "Mikey's driving. Tell me what happened," she repeated.

  I tried to think. Suddenly, it came back to me. "Shit," I said weakly.

  Dash. That coward. The pain of the betrayal I felt was a thousand times worse than the pain in my head.

  "Went to get Lynch..." I said. "Dash... Double-crossed me."

  The medic biker spoke up. "Don't move your head. Can't believe you're still kickin' after taking a blow like that."

  "Yeah," I said, my voice trailing off. "He smashed me with a crowbar."

  "Axl, babe," said Holly. "I ran into a Demon at the compound. He said Dash was in on it. Tried calling you a million times."

  "Damn," was all I could muster. Fucking technology and I did not get along.

  "I have to get back," I said, "and find Dash."

  The medic shook his head. "You ain't goin' anywhere for a while, man. They left you for dead. Can't believe you even made it. Here comes a poke."

  I grimaced as I felt an IV being inserted into my arm. I was covered in ink, but I fuckin' hated IVs.

  "We'll figure it out later," said Holly. I strained my eyes to see her without turning my head. She looked so damn beautiful, even with her face covered in worry.

  "Be back," said the medic. He stood up and shuffled around the cramped van cabin, heading for the passenger compartment, leaving me and Holly alone.

  "Babe," I said, "Kiss me." Holly leaned down, and gave me a gentle peck on the lips, as if she were afraid to hurt me with a kiss. I must've looked pretty fucked up.

  "Axl," she said, "Is this all worth it?"

  "Can't let Lynch and Dash get away with this... They gotta pay."

  "But babe," she said, her voice a mixture of concern and frustration, "This is the second time you've cheated death since I met you. You won't keep getting lucky."

  "Worked for me so far," I said, trying to muster a grin. The muscles in my cheek felt like they didn't want to move, but it must've worked because Holly smiled back weakly.

  "Axl, what if we just go? Go far away from here, and don't look back."

  I was getting annoyed. Not only did I have to defend myself from my friends and enemies now, I also had to defend my choices to Holly?

  "Everybody gets busted up sometimes," I said stiffly. I felt lightheaded, and a wave of nausea passed through my belly.

  I guess I could see her point. But there was no fuckin' way I could let this slide. It went against everything I stood for. "Is that what you do?" I asked. "Just run away from your problems when shit gets rough?"

  She stopped stroking my forehead, and sat back. "These aren't normal problems. Normal problems are putting food on the table, finding a babysitter for the kids, or working late. This is fucked up, Axl."

  I grunted in disapproval. "Running ain't my plan."

  "What is your plan?"

  "Revenge," I said. The word tasted sweet on my tongue, rolled off my vocal cords buttery smooth. I was gonna fuck those guys up. It was the end of the fucking line for them.

  Holly was upset now. "How much more blood has to be spilled?"

  "You don't have to be involved," I said softly. "In fact, it's better if you're not."

  "And what happens after that? Doesn't this mean something to you? Don't I mean something to you?"

  "Yes," I said, pursing my lips. "And we can talk about it. But don't fuckin' tell me how to handle my own business."

  "What if you don't make it out this time?"

  I thought for a moment. I didn't fuckin' like thinking about death and I tried not to do it. I always made shit work out. But I felt closer to death now than I ever had before, and I couldn't deny it. Maybe I was fated to go out fighting. Probably was.

  "It doesn't matter," I said, "I don't care if I come back alive."

  Holly didn't respond, and the rest of the ride passed by in awkward silence.

  I wasn't lyin'. I didn't give a shit if I made it out alive, long as I gave those two fuckers their due. Sure as hell didn't have a club to go back to either, so what did I have to live for?

  I tried not to pay attention to the voice in the back of my head. The one that was telling me that Holly was what I had to live for.

  34

  Holly

  It was nearly two o'clock in the morning when we got back to the NOMAD compound. They wheeled Axl in on a stretcher and took him to the infirmary. Big Mikey and I walked with him and talked to the "doctor," a sinewy-looking guy who'd been a field paramedic for the IRA for two decades.

  "Concussion, fractured orbital," said the doc in his Irish accent, "but he'll recover. Miracle for sure."

  Axl was sleeping peacefully when I returned to his bed. I hated to see him weak, hurt, and vulnerable. It was so unlike the strong, capable man that he was. I felt an instinct to stay and protect him, but I was absolutely beat.

  "Get some shut-eye," said Big Mikey. He looked worried about me.

  "Promise me you'll keep him safe while he's out."

  "Don't you worry about that. I've got my four best guys posted at the door. Nobody can touch him here. Kicked those Demons the fuck out, too."

  I reluctantly returned to my room, undressed, and fell asleep before I could even brush my teeth. My dreams that night were nightmares.

  The next day, I slept in until past noon. When I woke up, it was only because Ashlynn had come knocking on my door again.

  I was awakened by her pounding, and I stumbled out of bed and across the room. Light streamed in through the windows, which I'd forgotten to cover the night before. It was beautiful outside, and it felt like a new day. I hoped that the windows were open at the infirmary and the beautiful day was having a healing effect on Axl. I was anxious to get down to the infirmary to see him.

  "Holly! It's me!" Ashlynn's voice came through the door.

  I opened it, and she walked in, spry and bushy-tailed as ever.

  "Oh my god," she said, rushing her words. "What happened yesterday? I heard Axl's in the clinic. Are you okay?"

  I sighed. "Lemme get dressed and go check on him. Then we can talk."

  I had to borrow more clothes from Ashlynn. I'd just about given up on having any semblance of style or dignity since this entire adventure had started.

  We checked on Axl, who was still out cold. "Come back tonight," said the doc, "He might be up by then."

  Ashlynn and I left the infirmary and went to the mess hall, but my stomach was hurting again and I wasn't hungry.

  "Damn girl," she said, "You coming down with some kind of stomach flu?"

  "I don't know," I said. "This has been going on for a few days now." I hadn't ordered any food of my own, because Ashlynn had ordered pancakes to share. I drizzled some syrup on them, but it only seemed to make me feel worse.

  Halfway through the meal, when I was telling her about how we found Axl, I started to heave. I ran into the mess hall bathroom and barely reached a toilet before I started to throw up. Ashlynn held my hair back. I honestly didn't know what I'd have done here without her.

  "Girl, is this 'cause of last night?"

  I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and shook my head. "No," I said, "I don't think so."

  "Did you eat something bad?"

  "Just what we had together. And you didn't get sick."

  I flushed the toilet and moved to the sink to wash up. "I hope this gets better before I end up in the infirmary, too," I said.

  Ashlynn paused, not speaking, seemingly in thought. Then she spoke. "When's the last time you got your period?"

  I turned the water off, and looked down in thought. I hadn't even been thinking about that.

  "Uh, I guess it's late," I said. "Should've started a day or two ago."

  "Do you think there's any chance... You know," said Ashlynn, her voice trailing off at the end.

  My heart pounded at the thought. I sure as hell hadn't planned on getting pregnant. There was no way. I was on the pill, and I'd managed not to miss one throughout this whole ordeal. That was something I took
very seriously.

  "I'm on the pill," I said slowly. "I don't see how that could've happened."

  "Well, it's not a hundred percent," said Ashlynn tentatively.

  Now I was getting freaked out. Going on the run with Axl was one thing, and I'd almost come to terms with the fact that my life had irrevocably changed. But now in addition to being a biker's old lady, I was going to be a knocked-up college dropout? I almost couldn't wrap my mind around the idea. All my life I'd been brought up to do the exact opposite of that.

  "I just don't know," I said. I tried to reassure myself in my head. "I don't see how it's possible."

  "They keep pregnancy tests in the clinic," said Ashlynn. "It's a... thing that comes up every once in a while around here."

  I laughed woefully. "That would really be the fucking cherry on top," I said. "Walking into there and asking the doctor for a pregnancy test in front of Axl. The entire compound will be talking about it."

  Ashlynn laughed quietly, and then said, "But seriously, I'll go get one if you want. I'll tell 'em it's for me."

  "You'd do that for me?" I said, amazed.

  "What are friends for?" said Ashlynn. "But you'll owe me for this." She laughed.

  "Okay," I said. "Jesus. I can't believe this is happening. It has to be negative. Has to be."

  I went back to my room and waited for Ashlynn to come back from the infirmary. When she got back, she came in my room without knocking, where I was nervously sitting on the edge of the bed.

  "Got it," she said, waving a white plastic wrapper in her hand. "Good thing I went to, 'cause your boy's up."

  I perked up, almost temporarily forgetting the mess I was in. "How is he?"

  "Seems good," said Ashlynn. "He was checking out my ass."

  I turned red.

 

‹ Prev