Havoc (Los Desperados MC) (16 page)

“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.

“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 place 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.

I didn’t want to feel sad anymore so I turned away from him and headed towards the shore. The beaches down here were rocky and not great for swimming and I had never seen any other people down here. It was one of the reasons I liked it. I walked towards the shore, my feet slipping a little in the sand. The waves were breaking and crashing near the shore, sending a spray of saltwater into the air with every crash.

I sat down in the sand a few feet from the water line and stared into the crashing ocean. No matter what happened in the world, no matter if I were alive or not, those waves would continue to crash forever and forever. It put Paul’s death and my own situation into perspective. It reminded me that eventually all things pass. I would get over Paul’s death and I would get over leaving The Bandits for Los Desperados.

I had only been sitting on the beach for a few moments when Julian walked over and sat down next to me and stared out into the sea. We weren’t touching, he was a solid foot away, and I was grateful for the distance. The sun was setting in front of us. It had almost entirely slipped below the horizon, an orange half-circle turning the clouds around it pink and gold and making the blue of the sea come alive.

“I used to go to the community swimming pool,” Julian said, unasked for. I looked at him in confusion and he continued. “My friends and I used to run that place,” he shook his head and smiled at the memory. “We would get up early in the summer and line up outside and wait for the lifeguards to open the gates. We had our spots that no one else was allowed to sit it and we used to shake the other kids down for their money. It was me and my friends. All our parents worked two or three jobs so we were always on our own. We were a real bunch of terrors.”

“Mini gang members?” I asked.

“Yup,” he said with a nod. “My mother used to beg me to be good and go to school. Do you know what her dream for me was?”

“President?” I asked.

“Accountant,” he said and I couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of Julian sitting behind a desk entering numbers into a spreadsheet all day.

Bemused, he shook his head and continued, “She wasn’t here legally. She snuck across the border when she was twenty-three and managed to avoid INS for the next twenty years. She didn’t have the right paperwork or education, so she mostly worked as a maid and a waitress. She worked for this service and cleaned a lot of offices. Something about cubicles really spoke to her. I think she knew I wasn’t going to be a doctor or lawyer, but an accountant was possible, according to her. I just needed to graduate from high school and then two years for my Associate degree and I would be set for life.”

“I think that’s sweet,” I said. “She wanted to make sure you were always taken care of.

“Yeah, her intentions were always good,” He looked out into the ocean and his face had softened in a way I hadn’t seen since that night at the hotel. He looked like his old self. “But that wasn’t for me. I hated school, I hated all the rules, and I hated being stuck inside when it was nice out. Remember being little and living for the summer?”

I nodded and smiled. “What about your dad?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Gone mostly. Every now and then he would show up. Usually around Christmas or Thanksgiving, when he needed somewhere to crash. He would stay for a week or two and then he would leave to run an errand and just not come back. It’s funny; I didn’t mind it half as much as my mom did. She would be devastated every time he left. Every time, even though he never said so, she was convinced he was going to stay for good, get a job, and be a real dad. But I knew better. Finally, when I was fourteen he came by in January telling us he needed a place to stay and four thousand dollars. My mom was at her second job as a waitress at the local diner, but me and my buddies were home. He stopped by and I refused to let him in. I told he was done and that he should never come back. At first he laughed at me and called me a stupid kid who needed to get out of his way. But then he saw I wasn’t alone, that I had about five friends with me. Suddenly it was this older, strung out guy, versus six teenagers and he knew his odds were no good. He left, and I never saw him again.”

“Did you ever regret it?” I asked him.

He shook his head. “Not once. He was bad news. He was lazy and selfish. Every time he would disappear my mom would cry for days. She would try to hide it from me, crying in the bathroom and in her car, but kids see all the stuff their parents try to hide. I knew that as long as he kept reappearing every couple of months she would never move on. And I just couldn’t stand to see her cry anymore.

It was better just the two of us anyway. She usually worked two jobs so I had to help out around the house and make my own lunches and get myself to school. I did all that stuff for her, so she could come home and relax and not have to work anymore.”

“Is that her in that picture in your living room? The one with the woman standing next to the house?”

He nodded, his jaw fixed and staring into the ocean. He hadn’t looked at me once the entire time he was talking. “It was her house. I helped her with the down payment. No more apartments, no more slumlords, it was all hers.”

“Where is she now?”

“She died when I was twenty-six. Lung cancer, she went quickly. There wasn’t too much pain. They caught it too late to really do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. I had no idea his life had been so hard. He never talked about it or complained about it. The pictures in his house looked like they came from someone who had everything growing up. But Julian had just learned how to make the best of a bad situation. He didn’t let it hang around his neck and drag him down. It was a thing that happened and he dealt with it and moved on.

He shrugged his shoulders and looked out over the ocean while I looked at him. Everything about our meeting had been chaotic and destructive. We had skipped over everything you do at the beginning of a relationship, like talking about your childhood and your life, all of that. It had been death and destruction and me handcuffed to a radiator. But after everything that happened here we were again, so relaxed and open with each other. There was no bluster, no flirting, just him being himself and me being me and the two of us fitting together like God had made us one for the other.

If only there weren’t any chaos. If only we could have been on the same side. If only we had met years ago before either of our loyalties had been declared. But there was no point in wondering what could have been. There was only the reality of where we were at that moment.