Havok: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance - Riley Rollins Page 0,106

Holly's calming touch on my arm. I breathed hard, grinding my teeth together, trying to wrap my head around what I was reading. An inside job against one of your own guys was the biggest "Fuck you," the ultimate, unforgivable crime. If, for whatever godawful reason, a club had to take out one of its own guys, it was done by a Mayhem vote. Legit. Honorably.

And although I knew I might face a Mayhem vote when I went back to the club—if I went back to the club—that ain't what this was.

This was something else, and I knew right away what was happening.

Lynch. That dirty, rotten fuckin' dog carcass had to be at the core of this. Wasn't anybody else in the club who woulda had a reason, or the balls, to do this.

"Fucking Lynch," I said.

"The bald guy? The guy who tried to grab me back at the junkyard?"

"Yeah," I fucking growled. "That fuckin' piece of shit. We gotta get you to the safe house. Then I'm gonna fuckin' rumble. It's gonna be a bloodbath."

Holly's expression was solemn. But she didn't protest like I thought she might. Instead, she nodded.

"I understand," she said. "You gotta do what you gotta do." She was starting to understand how this worked.

I nodded, heat rising off my body in waves.

Nobody double-crossed me and lived to tell the tale.

Nobody.

26

Holly

The air conditioning had burned out in the shitty little Honda we'd stolen, so we rode with the windows down. The evening air was hot and humid, and although it whipped through my hair, it provided no relief from the scorching heat.

Axl's knuckles blanched against the hard plastic steering wheel. He was squeezing it hard, and I could tell that wires of tension were tightening throughout his body. I felt the same way. My whole body was uncomfortable, my mind anxious.

"Axl," I said, "This isn't about the video anymore, is it?"

"No," he answered, staring straight ahead as he hit the accelerator and passed a car on the left. "Never was."

"They're using me as a pawn in their game." I was starting to understand how the game worked.

Axl nodded. "A Reaper came by the club. Said they were after you. Hardly even gave a shit about the tape. The tape incriminated both our clubs, it gave us no leverage on them. But you gave them leverage on us."

"Because they saw you protecting me."

"Yeah. They find your weak spots. Pick at the scabs until they bleed. Anything your enemy cares about is a weak spot."

I hesitated for a moment but then spoke. "Why did you care about me?"

"Told myself it was about protecting an innocent. Sons code says to protect 'em. But…" he trailed off.

"But what?"

"You made me feel somethin' I hadn't felt before."

I reached over to the steering wheel and placed my hand on his.

"What happens if they find out I'm your old lady now?"

Axl took his eyes off the road for the first time in at least an hour, and looked right at me. "What do you think?"

Shit. To the Reapers, I was just a button to be pressed, a weak point to exploit. That made me mad. A club that'd use a woman to manipulate a rival club couldn't have any honor. I'd pretty much thought of all bike clubs as criminal enterprises up until now. But now I was starting to see the shades of grey. How there was a code of honor even on the streets, among criminals.

"Where're you taking me?" I asked.

"Cali border hideout. NOMAD compound."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Unaffiliated bike chapter. They're good guys. I trust 'em."

"You're sure?"

Axl looked at me again. "Would I lie to you?"

I nodded slowly, giving him my trust. He hadn't let me down and I didn't feel like he was going to.

We got to the NOMAD compound after dark. Somehow, lady luck had been on our side, and we made it halfway across the state without any cops picking up on our plate, which had to be reported stolen by now.

The compound looked like a bunker. A long, flat, nondescript concrete building that looked like it was made to withstand a direct assault. As we pulled up, the lights were down and the place looked deserted. But as soon as our front tires hit the property line, huge spotlights came on and flooded the car like day. I shielded my eyes, and saw that five or six guys with huge black rifles had come out of nowhere and were checking us out. When they saw