Havoc (Los Desperados MC) (5 page)

“Rise and shine,” a voice called out.

I opened my bleary eyes and looked around the strange place I was in. I went to sit up, but my leg was trapped by something. I tugged on it, but it wouldn’t give. I looked down and saw the shackle and the handcuffs and the night before came rushing back to me. I looked up and saw Julian as he put a cup of coffee in front of me. I had been in a deep sleep and I wasn't yet awake; it felt like I could barely keep my eyes open. I looked at the clock and saw it was only nine in the morning. I had slept less than five hours.

Once the coffee was down, he went over the shackles and unlocked them. I felt the lightness that came with having them removed. I stretched out my ankle out and picked up the coffee taking a thankful sip. It was strong with just a little bit of milk and sugar, just how I liked it.

“Why are we up so early?” I asked Julian my voice irritated and hoarse.

“I have a job that I have to do. I can’t sleep all day,” Julian said as he walked back to the kitchen. This was not my normal routine. Normally after a job I would have a few days to get some sleep and relax, but I was still a prisoner and the job wasn’t done. I shook my head trying to clear away the sleepiness, but I felt unmoored and I wanted nothing more than to go back to bed.

“Is there someone else you plan on kidnapping?” I asked him.

“Hopefully not,” he said. “It’s a real pain in the ass.” He was dressed and showered and looked good. I wondered if he was as tired as I was; if he was he didn’t show it. His dark hair was wet and hanging in his face and he looked more like a model than he had any right to.

“So what happens to me?” I asked him.

“You come with me,” he said. “I don’t trust you here alone. I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight. If you’re good, no handcuffs; if you’re bad, handcuffs and shackles,” he said, holding them both up and then dropping them loudly on the table.

I rolled my eyes and flopped back on the couch. I was facing a large window and I could see the rays from the rising sun as it floated in the sky. Even this early in the morning Los Desperados were already working. I could see about a dozen bikes out front along with two semi trucks.

“So what’s the job?” I asked him, not bothering to turn around.

“Shipment’s coming in. I need to go in and make sure it’s up to scratch.” He was taking me to see a shipment of his own goods, but why? Showing me his shipment meant taking me to their drop off and pick up site; as a member of a rival gang I should not be going there. Why would he do that when it was so risky? He would only do it if he were confident he could convert me to join Los Desperados.

Overconfidence, cockiness, it was what he had accused me of, but he clearly was just as guilty as I. Did he really think that one night shackled to the radiator would be all it would take for me to break every vow I had ever taken? Julian didn’t know me at all.

I could hear him behind me loading a dishwasher and cleaning up. I couldn’t help but smile at a man who knew how to actually keep house. My ex, Paul, who had brought me into The Bandits had been a total slob; his bathroom had been disgusting and his kitchen frightening. But here was Julian a giant tough biker putting dishes away and cleaning up, it was oddly cute. Until I remembered that he was six feet and more of pure muscle and holding me captive.

“Let’s go.”

And with a sigh I stood up and handed him my empty coffee cup. He led the way down the stairs and out into the clubhouse. It was quiet at that early hour, but it was far from empty. There were men and women milling about and smoking, drinking coffee and talking about whatever it was that they talked about. I hurried past them with my head down. Being there reminded me that, at the moment, I was only alive because of Julian’s favor. Any one of them would have shot me without a second thought.

Julian and I walked out into the cool California morning air. His bike was waiting for us outside with two helmets on the seat. He took the smaller one and handed it to me wordlessly as he put on his own. I looked around me;
should I try to run?
But, as always, I knew it would be pointless. Besides, it might be worth it to find their pick-up and drop-off site; this way I would have real information to bring back to The Bandits.

I settled myself on the bike behind Julian and instinctively my hands wrapped around his taut stomach as he started the bike. Again he placed his hand on my knee for a moment before we took off. It was an oddly intimate gesture and I wasn’t sure what he meant by it, but it didn’t make me jump anymore.

We drove for about thirty minutes and I had to be impressed with Julian’s skill. He rode swiftly and smoothly there were no jarring turns and no stopping and starting. Riding on a motorcycle, when done correctly, feels like flying and that was what it felt like to ride with Julian. My arms were wrapped around him and we moved together as both us worked to maintain a perfect balance as we zoomed around tight corners and up and down steep hills.

Finally we came to a well-known truck stop. It didn’t have a good reputation and it was known for drugs and sad and desperate truck stop girls. I almost never stopped here. I didn’t trust my truck alone in that lot. We drove past the front parking lot and around the back and down a short road to a small warehouse tucked back near a sparse forest. Julian stopped the bike and we both hopped off and took off our helmets and surveyed the scene.

“Ha, this is your distribution point?” I asked with a scoff. The road was covered in potholes and weeds sprung up through the cracks. The warehouse was only a little bigger than a house and there was no way that they could hold very much here. “We have warehouses four times the size of this and we have guards on ours all the time. People can just walk right up to this. Do you have any security at all?”

To my surprise, Julian said nothing. In fact, he was walking away from me and towards the warehouse. I could run right now if I wanted to. There might be someone in the truck stop who was loyal to The Bandits or who could be paid to give me a ride home. But where was Julian going? Why wasn’t he defending his club?

“Keys? Seriously?” I asked him. I was following him, I couldn’t help it something about his demeanor was different. “We have high-tech security at our warehouses, codes and back up generators on top of the guards.” I continued. I was a few feet behind him and I saw him smirk as he turned the key in the lock and opened the door. To my surprise he walked in first and left me standing outside in the sunlight.
I gave one last look at the truck stop behind us but I couldn’t help myself and I followed him into the warehouse where I was greeted with a wall of boxes. They were stacked in neat rows floor to ceiling and were labeled things like, “water bottles,” “manila folders,” and “toilet paper.” I looked at Julian confused. There was no way that Los Desperados got its money from moving toilet paper.

He walked down one of the aisles and I followed him. I could hear noise coming from somewhere and we were walking towards it. Suddenly, we stopped and he turned right and walked down a short row and stopped at what appeared to be a normal section of the wall. There was a space between boxes labeled “rulers” and on the other side a box labeled “crowns.” It looked like an empty wall, but then I saw him pull at something in one of the boxes and the wall opened up. It was actually a door and he pulled it open to reveal a hidden passageway. I peered through the door and saw a ramp leading down into darkness. As Julian stepped onto the ramp lights lit up and I saw that the ramp led to a small earthen floor on the bottom and another door.

We walked down the ramp and stopped in front of the door. It was steel and had a fancy looking electronic lock. Blocking my view, Julian keyed in the code and the door opened and my jaw dropped. There was a second warehouse underneath their main one. And there were no folders or water bottles down here, just piles and piles of guns and explosives.

“Holy shit,” I said as I looked around the room. There were men unloading high-powered rifles and ammo. There were rows and rows of machine guns, pistols, dynamite, Glocks, and weapons I didn’t even know the name of.

“You were saying something,” Julian said as he turned to me, “something about how The Bandits are so much better at this...” He trailed off and I didn’t say anything.

I was still stunned; I had no idea that Los Desperados had a game this impressive. I had no idea they could be so quiet. No one knew about this, which meant that none of their members had ever bragged about it. They had more discipline than I thought; it’s hard to keep bikers from bragging. I couldn’t help but be impressed with what Los Desperados had accomplished.

“You see,” Julian said. “I wasn’t lying to you, Daniela. Los Desperados is very good at this and we make a lot of money. You think moving expensive shoes makes you rich? Imagine how much people pay for this.” He left me standing by the door and walked over to the men who were working. He knew them by name and he clapped them on the back and I watched as he personally counted every gun and checked every box of ammo as they were moved into separate trucks. Each truck had little hidden corners and false bottom where the goods were hidden during transport. The work was smooth and quick and efficient and Julian was confident in his movements. I could see the other men were impressed and a little scared of him; they stood up a little straighter when he spoke to them; they worked a little faster when he was watching.

A half an hour later he was done and we were walking back up to the surface.

“You’ve been very quiet,” he said.

I had been very quiet. I had been doing a lot of thinking. He was right; Los Desperados was more impressive than I thought. They were better organized and had a lot more money than anyone realized. But I knew where their clubhouse was and where they store their most valuable cargo. If I could get that information back to The Bandits, we could clean Los Desperados out.

I had been balking at running, thinking that each chance wasn’t good enough, that I should wait for something better. But that had been cowardice, pure and simple. There would never be a perfect time to escape. I needed to just do it, no more thinking, no more debating, just taking the next opportunity that came along and going for it. And I couldn’t give a second thought to what would happen to Julian if I escaped. He was a tough man; he could take care of himself.

“Are you thinking about joining us?” he asked as we emerged back outside. “Is there anything I can do to...nudge you in the right direction?” He looked at me for a moment and then turned around to lock the door. His movements were languid and slow and I knew this was my moment.

I spun and raced at him. I could see the shock and confusion his face, but I didn’t give it a second thought. With all my strength and speed I pushed him back into the warehouse. The bigger they are, the harder they fall and as he toppled over backwards I grabbed the keys from his outstretched hands and spun around racing out the door. I slammed it behind me, but didn’t stop to lock it. I shoved the extra helmet off the bike and threw the other one on and hopped onto Julian’s ride and took off down the street as Julian screamed my name and cursed me from the warehouse.

I revved the engine as hard as I could and peeled out of the parking lot sending rocks and pebbles skittering behind me as I raced to the road.

“Daniela! Stop. Don’t you fucking dare steal that bike! Shit!” Julian kept cursing, but I didn’t slow down. He sounded beyond pissed, he sounded dangerously furious. This was a tipping point I had done something unforgivable. Stealing his bike was an insult and if Julian caught me, he would kill me; there would be no second chances now. There was no turning back. Marco’s orders had been to kill or convert me; the converting part hadn’t worked, so there was only one option left. If Julian caught me, he was going to kill me.

I buzzed down the highway that led to the truck stop going the opposite way we had come at full speed. It wasn't a bustling freeway, but a smaller, two-lane highway that cut through empty rolling hills. We were pretty far from any civilization, which was good in that there were no cops, but bad in that I was an obvious target. There were too few cars or trucks on the road for me to use as cover. I knew I needed to get off this road fast; it would be too easy for Julian to catch up with me on here. But there weren’t any exits, just the highway stretching to infinity. I hit the gas and went even faster as I searched for any way out.

Julian’s bike was too big for me. It made sense; he was about a foot and half taller than I was. I was sitting crooked on the bike since my legs were too short for it and only one of my feet could touch the foot rests at a time and, even then, I had to be on my tiptoes to do it. My arms were fully outstretched to reach both sides of the bike. I felt spread out and vulnerable and I didn’t have the proper balance. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a good bike. It rode smooth and fast and quiet when I needed it to.

Then I saw it: an exit sign that led to the city. If I could make into the street roads I could disappear and Julian would never find me. I sped past a Honda with four kids in the backseat and then cut in front of it switching lanes and racing down the exit ramp onto a one-lane road that led to the city. I was in a sort of suburb area now with lots of houses and some restaurants but few buildings higher than three stories. I buzzed along at just above the speed limit; being in the suburbs meant there would be angry moms who liked to call the cops. Now that I was off the highway, it was more important to be discreet than fast.

I had just let myself relax and breathe when I looked in the rearview mirror and a smudge appeared in the distance. I watched as the smudge sped up and grew clearer in the mirror. Slowly it morphed into a man on a motorcycle. My heart skipped a beat - it was Julian. He must have found a bike and chased me and he was still chasing me. For a moment I stared in disbelief and then I hit the gas going double the posted speed limit and not caring, getting arrested would be preferable to being recaptured by Los Desperados.

I sped up even more. I was going faster and faster down the streets and they were changing around me. I flew past boys on skateboards and girls on bikes and clucking mothers who yelled at me to slow down. I made hard rights and quick lefts, but no matter how fast I went, Julian was still behind me and he was gaining. We moved from the suburbs into the outskirts of the city as split-level houses turned into apartment complexes and smaller stores.

He was closer now; I could see his furious expression in my rearview mirror. But he also looked completely focused, like an animal on the hunt. He was driving some crappy thing that looked like it was barely a step above a dirt bike. But he knew how to drive it and my only hope was that the bike’s engine gave out before Julian’s did.

Without signaling, I made a hard right and then a hard left and then a hard right onto a side alley and then I burst into a CVS parking lot. A woman shouted at me as I cut her off, but I just kept driving. Damn it! He was still behind me! I couldn’t shake him no matter what I did. It was impossible for me to get this bike up to it’s full speed; it was simply too big for me and I couldn’t reach what I needed.

Julian was almost on top of me now, but we were on a narrow street and I managed to box him out every time he tried to get past me. We were racing past the financial district when I heard the distinct sound of sirens getting closer. I saw the red flashing lights in my rearview mirror and veered left with Julian hot on my tail.

He wasn’t trying to pass me anymore. Like me, Julian had his eyes on his rearview mirror and the cops who were just behind him. Maybe I could use this. If I could slip away, the cops would follow Julian and arrest him and I could get away scot free. For the first time in my life, I was thankful for the police.

There were two cruisers behind us and I heard one of them get on the bullhorn and order us to stop immediately and get on the ground. Yeah right. I smirked and hit the gas speeding up. There was an intersection in front of me. The light was green and then it turned yellow. I accelerated faster and faster and just as the light switched from yellow to red I blew through the intersection as ten different cars came to a screeching halt and honked their horns at me.

“Ha! Ha!” I yelled out. I couldn’t help it. It was riveting and I felt alive as I sped down the roads. I didn’t have any cargo in the back; I wasn’t even on my own bike. There were no consequences if I was caught. So I went faster. I wasn’t even heading towards The Bandits’ headquarters. I was just trying to lose Julian and the police.

I kept going, speeding through the intersections with Julian almost on top of me, matching me turn for turn. But the cops couldn’t keep up and they were trailing farther and farther behind us. I made a hard left and Julian followed speeding up as he turned and catching up with me. I made another left, but it was like he could read my mind and every move I made he copied almost instantaneously.

The cops were long gone, lost in the alleys where we had made our quick turns. It was just Julian and I again and he was parallel to me now. I couldn’t understand how he was keeping up with me on his crappy bike, but he was managing it. We were alongside each other and I glanced over and he motioned to for me to pull over. I gave him the finger at the same moment I turned left onto a back alley, but his reflexes were fast and he was on me. The alley spit us out onto a large road and he was quickly able to pull up alongside of me.

I veered to my left, but he stayed with me and then I was trapped between him and the wall and had no room to maneuver. How had this happened? I had my freedom; I had it! But now he was here and I was trapped again, only now I was trapped between him and a wall on a bike I could barely control.
Then, I couldn’t believe it, but he reached out with his hand and grabbed the right handle. I smacked his hand and hit at him, but he wouldn’t move. I sped up, but he held on and sped up with me and then he swung his leg until he was riding side-saddle on his bike and in a split second he had jumped onto mine and he sat behind me and put one arm around my neck.

“Don’t slow down,” he hissed into my ear. “Turn this bike around and head east. We’re going back to the clubhouse.” His arm crushed against my windpipe until I sped up and turned around and headed back to captivity.