Havoc (Los Desperados MC)

by Kara Parker

  “I don’t think so,” I said shrugging my shoulders. I didn't want to do this. I didn’t want to have to talk about anything. Talking was dangerous; I was liable to say something I shouldn’t if I spoke. I wanted passion and sex and to turn my brain off for the night. I didn’t want to have to dance around Julian’s questions. “Are you all right? You seem kind of out of it,” I said.

  Finally he turned to look at me. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red. I wondered when he had last had a good night’s sleep or a decent meal.

  “I’m worried about tomorrow,” he said, but still his voice had no expression. He was like a bad actor reading lines, or a robot, anything but the Julian I knew.

  “What are you worried about?” I asked him as my heart began to pound in my chest.

  But he didn’t answer; he just turned away from me and stared into the wood paneling that ran up and down the walls.

  “A little nervous is normal before a big heist,” I said. “I used to stress eat a box of donuts before each run,” I gave him a wan smile, but he didn’t react at all.

  “I don’t get nervous before heists,” he said with a mean sounding scoff that caught me off guard.

  “You’re worried right now,” I countered.

  “Not about the heist,” he said, he turned to me again, but this time there was fire and anger in his eyes. He shook his head as if he was clearing something from in there and he turned away again.

  “We haven't talked since the beach,” I said, my voice quieter than it had been before.

  He sighed and ran his hands through his hair and shook his head.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “You tell me,” he said.

  I stepped back as if I had been slapped. Did he know what The Bandits had planned? But no, there was no way he could. They would never have told him and I would have heard if someone else had. Besides, I still hadn’t technically betrayed Los Desperados; there was still time to act. But for some reason, something was holding me back.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m tired of going around in circles. I thought you wanted things to be different between us, but clearly you don’t.” I yelled at him. I spun around on my heel and marched out of the room slamming the door behind me. I kept walking towards the basement apartment, any minute now I would hear Julian behind me...any minute. But there was nothing.

  I stopped in the hallway and turned around confused to look back at the door to Marco’s office. He wasn't following me. I had been so sure that he would; he had stopped me every other time I had tried to leave, so why was this time any different.

  He knows, a voice in my head whispered and my stomach dropped and my eyes went wide at the thought. Could he know? Was this all some test that I was failing? NO, I thought, shaking my head. He doesn’t know, only I know.

  Really? The voice that sounded a lot like one of the toughest foster mom’s I’d ever had. Joey, Jeff, and Jamie knew and those boys are idiots. If they know then all of The Bandits know, if every Bandit knows then the old ladies know, if they know.... It went on and on, no matter how tight a lid you tried to put on something, information still got out. Old ladies loved to argue.

  I turned around and headed back to the basement apartment. Could someone have tipped Julian off? Was he testing me in some way? Was this the ultimate test of my loyalty. But it was already that. Without Julian knowing this was already a test. I had let my subconscious choose and it had chosen The Bandits. I could have told anyone that the lot would be a trap; it should have been the first thing out of my mouth after the fire was put out, but I hadn’t said a word.

  I had already made my decision. I should have told them two nights ago after the fight. I should have told them sometime in the last two days. Los Desperados had surrounded me the entire time, and I had said nothing. The boys had been right, my loyalty to The Bandits was without question, had I not warned Julian of that fact a thousand times over? Had I not told him I would run?

  The sex was amazing and Los Desperados were an impressive group, but had I really ever thought that I could leave The Bandits? How could I have been so foolish? The Bandits were my home; they were my only family. There could be nothing other than them. I sighed as I walked down towards the basement.

  He wanted a warning now, but it was too late for that. Julian must have some sense something was off, but not enough to go on. I had given him a thousand warnings and he had ignored them all. I would never deny my feelings for Julian or Los Desperados, but blood was thicker than water and oil was thicker than both. I was a member of The Bandits biker gang and no matter how green the grass might be somewhere else, I would always be a member of The Bandits. I didn’t need to do anything. I needed to stick with the plan I had given Los Desperados and let nature take its course.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  I slept terribly the night before the big heist. I tossed and turned until one in the morning and then woke up on the hour every hour after that. Pre-heist jitters, I used to get them all the time back when I was green and scared of everything. But they had faded with experience. It made sense they were back now. I was doing something new. I was setting an entire gang up for failure. I was lying to everyone and leading them to a trap.

  I felt like I was going to be sick. My stomach was in knots and I could barely string a sentence together. I normally liked a big breakfast before a run but that morning I had barely been able to choke down a piece of toast before giving up. Was I really going to do this? Was I going to set Los Desperados up to be taken out? But what was the alternative? If Los Desperados stayed, they would keep raiding The Bandits and edging in on their territory. They would keep fighting until one of them was destroyed. This maneuver could end the war.

  This wasn’t how Los Desperados should go out. To destroy another gang through deception would be a hollow victory, to say the least. Not even I could deny Los Desperados were better than The Bandits. Los Desperados leadership was better, their transport was better, and they had more money and more weapons than The Bandits. Los Desperados was the better gang, but it didn’t matter; they would still be destroyed.

  I didn’t really care about Los Desperados. I cared about Julian. He would die today. The thought made me want to cry, scream, and throw up at the same time. Fair revenge for Paul, though, some nasty part of my brain thought and that made it even worse. I knew what I was doing. Julian was going to die and, unlike Paul’s death, every death today was going to be intentional and by me. I was killing all of these people.

  Julian took the lead. He revved his engine twice and the rest of us revved ours back in response as he started the ride. The trek to Echo Park was slow and leisurely. We were a motorcycle gang, but a well-behaved one. We obeyed the laws. We stayed at or below the speed limit, we used our blinkers, we were polite to pedestrians. We kept our engines low and gave a wide birth to other cars on the road. Kids waved as we passed them.

  There were about twenty bikers total: me, Julian, and eighteen of the best men Los Desperados had to offer. I knew some of them. Rick and David were Julian’s life-long friends and then there were other members with wives and children. Was I really going to do this? Was I really going to lead them to slaughter?

  That’s what this was going to be: slaughter. Los Desperados would have no warning, no time to think or to plan. They would be waiting for my signal, but it would never come. Instead The Bandits would arrive guns blazing and it would end in a hail of bullets and death. I was leading them into a trap and part of me was railing about how unfair it all was. But what did fair mean anymore? I had been kidnapped and held prisoner by Los Desperados. Paul had been murdered trying to rescue me. I should hate them; I should want to see them destroyed.

  But I didn’t. Los Desperados had kidnapped me, but then they had treated me with nothing but respect and kindness. I had been at their mercy. They could have done any number of horrible things to me, but instead they welcomed me and made me family. Paul’s death may have been a
t Julian’s hand, but it had been an accident and I told Paul to leave. I told him I wanted to stay with Los Desperados and he had come for me. He was going to take me back to The Bandits to face my punishment; Julian had been saving me and this was how I was going to repay him.

  My mind kept going back and forth, switching sides every other minute. I wished this were easier. I wished I still hated Los Desperados and Julian, but I didn’t. Tears were forming in my eyes and if there’s one thing bikers don’t do, it’s cry. I lifted the visor off my eyes and let the sharp wind blow my tears away. It stung my eyes and I was grateful for it. I needed to be punished in some way. I needed the pain to help take my mind off what I was about to do.

  In front of me was Julian. He was a good driver, as always. He led in a way that no one wanted to challenge him or one up him. They were all just grateful that he was here. They knew he didn’t play favorites or hold grudges; he would be fair and honest and under him hard work would be rewarded. They wanted him to be second in command. There was no anger or resentment, only happiness and congratulations.

  As we approached the lot my nausea got worse and my hands were beginning to shake. I knew The Bandits weren’t here yet. Julian had sent scouts ahead and they had been watching the lot uninterrupted for the last forty-eight hours. If any Bandits were here, we would know about it.

  I wondered what their plan would be. Knowing Big Mike, it would be loud and violent. They knew we would be hiding in this lot; how would they handle it? Would they use snipers on top of a truck, or just machine guns to get everything over with as quickly as possible? An image of Julian, his strong body riddled with bullets and blood, splayed out on the weed-strewn lot came to my mind and I shook my head to clear the terrible image away.

  Julian didn’t deserve to die like that. He didn’t deserve to die by betrayal. I was going to kill him. It didn’t matter who was holding the gun. I had led him here, like a lamb to the slaughter he had trusted me and this was how I was repaying him. Did he deserve it? He did kidnap me and hold me against my will and chase me down when I tried to escape. But he had also been offering me something better. Not just a better job, but also a better class of man. A tough yet sensitive, perfect man who could be mine and mine alone if I just gave up everything I stood for.

  What did I stand for? Julian was right; The Bandits were thieves just as much as Los Desperados. Both gangs lived off of stealing; the only difference was who we stole from and was that any real difference? Julian had pointed out that The Bandits did all the work while it was Los Desperados that really cleaned up. Honor amongst thieves was a myth; I knew that better than anyone. Why did it matter that Los Desperados stole from other gangs?

  I saw the large empty lot ahead. Whoever Julian had sent to scout was doing a good job. There was a rough tent over a gnarled and malnourished sapling, but it was torn to shreds and whoever had been staying there was long since gone. Dandelions and other weeds sprung up through the cracks and large holes in the cement. There were maple saplings and weak looking oaks pushing their way to the sky. There were large puddles filled with dirty, fetid water and graffiti and trash everywhere you looked.

  Julian stopped first. He held up his right hand in a fist and we all stopped behind him. He removed his helmet and looked around. Taking his time to scan the lot and note every hole and stray piece of trash. Finally he turned around and looked at me and my stomach revolted. The coffee and toast I had eaten did not want to stay down and I had to fight to keep myself from retching. Was this the last time I would ever see Julian? He was sitting astride his bike his helmet in his hands, his eyes serious and determined. Not Julian, I begged to any God that would listen. Please, let him live.

  He stood up off his bike and looked at his men and again I was taken aback by how tall and strong he was. Standing in the empty lot, the grey sky above and the cracked cement below he looked like some lone survivor of a war. He looked like a man you would run to if you were in trouble. He looked like a saint and I wondered if I really thought I could do this.

  “Daniela, stay with me,” he said, his voice loud and clear. “The rest of you go to you assigned positions and wait for my signal.”

  With a nod the lot filled with the roar of motorcycles as Los Desperados went to their hiding spaces. They had come with dark colored tarps and blankets to hide their bikes and themselves. They would be disguised as tents and garbage that the vagrants who stayed here had left behind. It was a good plan. It would have worked, but Big Mike had thought ahead.

  Within seconds Julian and I were alone. But I was scared to get off my bike or take my helmet off. I had made a huge mistake and I knew my face would give me away. What I was doing to Los Desperados felt wrong, but I was doing it for The Bandits, shouldn’t that make it right?

  “Come here, Daniela,” Julian said and in the tone of his voice would permit no argument.

  I took my helmet off and hastily wiped the tears from my eyes. I tried to be discrete and wipe them away with my arm as I lowered my helmet, but Julian was no fool. He would know that something was wrong. My helmet off, I cleared my throat and stepped off my bike and walked towards him. He was ten feet away from me and he watched my every step and the seconds ticked by each one a greater torture than the last.

  Who am I? I wondered. What do I stand for? How will I live with myself? I stood in front of Julian. As always he towered above me and when I looked into his face I had to squint against the bright sky behind him. He looked so handsome and strong standing there and tears came again and I held them back as best I could.

  Julian took my shoulders in his strong hands. He looked down at me with his green eyes and he said. “Tell me the truth, Daniela. That’s all I ask. I won’t punish you for it and I won’t hate you for it. I’ll understand and I’ll forgive you. If you feel anything towards me at all I ask you to answer this question honestly. Is this a set-up?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  I felt like I had been punched in the gut. It felt like one of those dreams where you’re running late to class and get halfway there only to realize you’re naked. I was bare and exposed before Julian. He had taken such good care of me, he had been so good to me, he had only wanted the best for me and I had repaid him with betrayal.

  “One of The Bandits warned me about it during the fight. He told me your loyalty was unquestioned. He said The Bandits knew about the upcoming heist and they knew we would try and take it from them. But then he laughed. He was bleeding from every pore and his face was smashed in, but still he laughed as he told me that Daniela would never help Los Desperados. She was a Bandit through and through and when push came to shove, when it came time to choose, she would choose them. She was a Bandit and would never be anything else.”

  My stomach dropped and I wanted to die right then and there. This was all too much; I was torn between love and loyalty. Between what I thought and I knew what really was. I thought I knew Los Desperados, I thought I knew The Bandits, but I knew nothing. I still didn’t know and I still couldn’t bring myself to speak up and say what I wanted.

  “I get it,” he said. He was looking me in the eyes and he never looked anywhere else as he continued. “I understand loyalty, Daniela. I understand what it means and what its value is. If you want to side with The Bandits then I will let you go. You can leave on your bike and go your way and we’ll go ours. But you and I will never see each other again.”

  A tear slid down my right cheek as I closed my eyes and begged my body to do something to make some sort of movement or action. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t some indecisive chick who couldn’t make up her mind. I was a badass biker who took names and got what she wanted.

  I had been ordered to do those things. This was on me and just me. There could be no one else to tell me what to do. No Big Mike screaming in my ear, no Julian stopping me. I needed to decide here and now, once and for all. I needed to make a decision. Either way someone was going to be betrayed, I just needed to choose, Los Desperados or The Bandits. Love
or loyalty.

  “I love you, Daniela. From the first moment I saw you when you were crouched behind the truck and fighting back even though you knew there was no way you could win. In that moment I looked at you and I thought, there’s the girl for me, if only she weren’t an enemy. What’s that line from Romeo and Juliet: my only love sprung from my only hate. I could have killed you that day; I was supposed to kill you on Marco’s orders. But you were so smart when you ran from us and so tough when you kept hitting us even after your truck crashed, I couldn’t do it. You were too rare a creature, I wanted you, and so I kept you. I can’t imagine how hard this has been on you, and I’ll understand if you never forgive me. If you want to get revenge on me for Paul, that’s fine. But that needs to be you and me, not those men out there.”

  I was crying now. Big stupid tears were cascading down my cheeks, but I couldn't wipe them away, my hands were still trapped by Julian’s. I wanted to, though. I hadn’t cried like this in years and I had never cried like this in front of anyone else.

  The words Julian was saying were my words and his feelings were my feelings. He loved and wanted me from the moment we met and I felt the same way. I had never felt so strongly about anyone before. I had only known Julian for a month, and I had spent most of that time hating him, but I still loved him more than I had ever loved Paul.