Aimee
I stand among the Gravediggers in complete awe of the scene before me. Breaker’s voice booms over the heads of his men, who all look up at him. “Who can put up with this shit anymore? Not me. I know it’s not me.”
The men around nod in quick agreement. Someone shouts, “Not me!” until it becomes a battle cry, uniting them.
“It’s time to take back the Gravediggers—make it the club that it was always supposed to be. It’s time to stop running, put down our roots, and claim what is rightfully ours!” More screams and hollers when he pauses for dramatic effect.
“What I’m about to propose isn’t going to make me any friends. In fact, if you want to hightail it the hell out of this bar and never look back, I don’t blame you. What I’ve got to do is for real men anyway—men who care about their pride and the oath they took before the fire. What we have to do is run Biggs out of the Gravediggers for good. We have to take back our club starting with him and those that are faithful!”
This time, the room goes dead silent. All I hear is the sound of the jukebox playing some old foggy rock song. I can sense the shift from exclamations and rally to something else… something more sinister. Breaker watches, as I do, but no one moves. No one heads for the doors or utters a word of dissent against him. While it isn’t a full-on cry of support, it’s probably the best response he could think of getting when declaring war against the president of his club.
“If you’re with me, stay in this bar. Henry and I are dividing men up in groups so we can talk about our strategy on a small group basis. Each of you will have roles. Some of you will be on the front line, and for those men, I say thank you. For those who stay behind or man supplies, you play an equal part in our win or loss. Remember that as we fight. Remember the brothers we may lose and the ones already gone because of Biggs. And always remember who our enemy is.”
The men start to divide up on their own, probably heading towards their work groups or off with their friends. They take seats at the bar, ordering drinks that may be their last. It’s not until the center of the room is clear, and Breaker has jumped off of the top of the bar when one of them steps forward.
“Our enemy, Breaker? Our fucking enemy? You wanna talk about what the hell those Devil’s Fighters are doing back in our office?”
“They’re keeping Biggs out while we do some recon, Tex.”
“You trust those scum-of-the-Earth bastards? They’re the ones that ordered the kill on our boys back on that highway. You forget that or are you so desperate to mutiny you’d put us all in danger?
A few others stand up, joining Tex side by side as a show of support. Not that I blame them. Even as an outsider, I fully admit that I don't trust those Devil's Fighter deserters. They may have gotten us out of that basement and put their lives on the line, but they haven't proven that they deserve to be here.
"I get it," Breaker says, his hands lifting to his chest. "I really do. When I met those guys, I didn't know what the fuck to think, but Henry vouches for them, and my gut knows that Henry would do anything for the Gravediggers. Our brother was the whole reason why we're here tonight—taking down Biggs together. Without him, we'd be scraping up the shit our president has been leaving behind for us until we die or he gets us all killed."
The man leans into Breaker, pulling him in so I can barely make out what he says. I only hear, "You best know what you're doing, Breaker. Because if you don't..." His voice trails off, but I can guess at what's missing.
Breaker nods and then hits him square on his back like a brother would. When they pull away, he motions for me to follow him. It's not like I've got any other choice.
"That was..." I try to say, breathless from the speed we’re walking towards his office. He clicks his fingers at a few of the Devil's Fighters leaning up against his door. They respond quickly, taking off towards their trucks and bikes near the parking lot.
I'm pushed into the dark room, barely catching my feet on the steps before feeling his arms wrap around my hips. He pulls me into him so fast that my lips just part in time to meet his. Naturally, my arms dangle around his neck so that I take in every ounce of this man—my man.
When he pulls himself away, I finish the sentence he interrupted. "... amazing," I breathe.
He laughs, loosening his grip on my hips. "I had the boys grab you some clothes from your room. I figured we could both freshen up, though I don't know what good it's going to do me."
Breaker tosses me a pile of mismatched clothes, almost all of it black. Wrapped in one of the black, halter top dresses is that picture of my family. I hold it up to the light, memorizing it. Breaker notices my pause and pulls it away.
"You still hold on to this?"
"I've never let go of it. I don't think I ever will."
"I thought your dad—"
"Yeah. It wasn't a happy situation, but that's not what that picture is about. It's my sister and my mom. It's silly, but..." I can't finish my thought. It's so out of place knowing what's about to come.
"What? What's silly?" I turn to see him studying me with those glossy brown eyes and the jaw that leans down as if pointing straight at me. It wasn't easy to deny a face like his.
"I just always thought I would go back—back to Hawaii. Have a family. Get a real life. Stop doing this shit where I’m just trying to survive each day. You never thought about that? What life would be like if you weren't with a motorcycle club?"
"No. Not really. I knew I wanted to join one when I was a boy. I didn't, and I don't look back. Life wasn't all that nice to me on the res, and there's nothing for me to go back to."
He takes a step towards me, pulling the ripped and blood-stained tank top over my head. I stand before him, naked besides my bra and panties, as he says, "There's something here for me now."
"Me too," I answer with the breath caught deep in my throat. "I never thought that—"
"Me either."
We kiss again, this time at full throttle. I somehow manage to push Breaker up against the wall so that his back slams into the brick. A finger slides itself under the strap of my bra and then peels it down the length of my arm slowly. The other one follows. I shimmy out of it while he reaches behind me to remove the clasps.
"I've never wanted something so much in my entire life, Aimee," he blurts out before falling to his knees. His chiseled and scratchy face buries itself in the space between my breasts with his hands pressing the two against his cheeks. I try to exhale, but I can't seem to let it go. He lays hundreds of kisses on my skin with his lips dancing over my erect nipples.
"Breaker... we can't..." I want to push him away, but my arms and hands are paralyzed. I imagine an entire room out there waiting for his command, but all he can do is kneel at my feet to take me in. I will never fully understand how he can make me feel so powerful and so weak all at the same time.
"Shh..." he calms me. "Let me do this." His large hand cups at the space between my legs and soon my panties fall around my ankles, and he is back to massaging my clit and the folds of my wanting pussy.
I pull away, just long enough to switch sides with him. I press my back against the wall and hitch a leg over his shoulder. I open myself up for him so that he can take it all in.
Breaker's head disappears from under me. The next thing I feel is his warm breath on my soft skin. It teases and tickles, but nothing could feel any better at this moment. He alternates his breaths so that my mind goes foggy from the sensation of hot and cold washing over my body. And just when I think I understand his rhythm, his tongue slides its way in.
I shiver uncontrollably, my hand grabbing hold of his head for support. But as he begins to lap at me, that hand presses in deeper, showing him the way to my throbbing clit. A finger replaces the lips, and it touches it just right, almost too right.
I scream out, turning my head away from the door in case anyone is listening. My body becomes a wave moving in and out from his motions with my hips sliding off of the wall and then crashing back down. I feel my skin separate and contract as everything builds from my stomach to my neck.
"Breaker, I'm so..." He looks up with those devilish eyes, and it's over. All that pain and tension from the last few days disappear in one sweet, hazy moment of absolute pleasure.
When I come back down, I practically fall on top of him. We laugh together on the floor of his old office. Breaker's long arms wrap around mine, pulling me into his chest. I rest my head upon it to hear the pounding of his heart calling out to me.
And for the first time, I'm scared.
I pull my hair back so that I can look up at him "Is this the right way to do this, Breaker? What happens if..."
"Stop, Aimee," he shushes me, placing a finger to my lips. I hate when he does that. "What did I tell you back in that basement? You trust me, and everything will be okay. I promise you that."
A knock interrupts my attempts at arguing with him. "Boss! Biggs is on the move. We gotta go!"
Boss? I shiver at the thought. Being in charge makes him more vulnerable than ever. Being a boss makes him responsible until the end.
Breaker removes his arm out from under my neck and stands. After switching up his clothes, he offers a hand to me. I throw on a pair of clean panties and bra. The picture of my family gets stuffed in the cups. The halter dress comes next. Not exactly an appropriate war outfit, but it is what it is.
With me now dressed, Breaker opens the door and begins to speak urgently to the four or five guys on the other side. They talk back and forth, debating over something. At one point, he looks back at me before turning back to them with a finger directed at someone out of my sight.
A few minutes pass and they disperse, each running off back towards the bar. Suddenly, it dawns on me just how loud the bar has become. Men are shouting, glasses are banging, and the pounds of boots on the tile floor are like war drums tapping away. I make my way to the door, but Breaker stops me.
“Where do you think you’re going? Do you know how dangerous it is out there?”
“Breaker, you can’t be serious? I’ve survived everything this club and those two assholes, Vice and Biggs, have thrown at me. Do you really think I can’t make it through—”
“I don’t care, Aimee,” he snaps, looking over his shoulder towards the hallway. “I’m not risking your life too. This is my fight, not yours. Plus, if Biggs gets a hold of you, you’re going to be used as leverage. You’re too much of a liability for me.”
“Liability… What the hell does that mean?”
He looks at me with a scowl on his face. “It means that I love you. He knows that. Vice probably suspects that. The rest of the club is on to it—”
My mouth goes dry as I ask dumbstruck, “What? What did you say?”
“Aimee! Jesus!” He twists in his place. This can’t be easy for him. He looks as if I’m torturing him. But still, he manages to spit out, “I fucking love you. And I don’t plan on letting you go for a long, long time. But for now, you have to just shut up and listen to me. Do you understand that?”
I can’t help but smile. “Yes. I understand.”
“Good. You’re going to go with Jake. He’s a young guy, no use to me today. He’s going to take you to the far side of the parking lot out front, in a truck we jacked today. I need you to be my ears and eyes. Play lookout. Hide out in the bed with the binoculars I’ll give to him and call me or Henry with any movement. Can you do that?”
I nod my head, with more eagerness than I’m probably ready for. At least I’d be of some use.
“But there’s one more thing. If something happens to me, if things go south, Jake knows to run with you. He’s got instructions that even if you’re kicking and screaming, he’s to drive off with you until you make it back to California so you can get on a plane and go home.”
“Home?”
“You just told me you wanted to go back to Hawaii, Aimee. This is your chance. I’m giving it to you in case… Well, you know.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”
“Aimee!” he growls “I’m done with this. You have to listen to me for once and for all.” He reaches out and pulls me into his arms. I snuggle into his chest, smelling the vague scent of detergent, cologne, and smoke on his shirt. I sigh as he continues, “I will find you, whether it be in this life or the next, but I will find you. Ain’t nowhere you can go that you can lose me.”
“Breaker?” One of the Devil’s Fighters steps into the room, a little too close to us. “You ready? He’s about a half mile away, the scout says.”
Breaker doesn’t push away or let go of me. Instead, he says, “I’m ready.” Then he kisses the top of my head and disappears out the door.
There are no words left when he leaves the room, only the sound of the men shouting when Breaker walks back into the bar. I watch from the hallway as they hoot and holler while others hold their guns and weapons high in the air. Then they follow him out into the parking lot to make their last stand.
There’s a cough behind me. “You ready?” a guy asks. By the looks of him, he’s my age, maybe younger. His face is ashen, and I wonder if he’s going to be sick. This must be Jake.
“Yeah. Show me the way, Jake.” He takes the lead and heads toward the back door. We slip out unnoticed by the crowd of about fifty of Breaker’s men who are lining up in small group formations. In the back of some trucks and motorcycle storage compartments, other men line up their ammo and weapons, helping to reload and restock. There’s a captain at each “station” to supervise it all. And then there’s Breaker, standing dead center with his arms crossed over his chest. He stares out at the road, waiting for Biggs to show.
Jake pulls me off towards an opening in the fence just outside the shade of an overgrown tree. I barely notice the black lowrider truck so at least I know we’ll be camouflaged enough. Jake jumps in the back and then helps me inside. We sit next to each other as we do what the rest of the Gravediggers and Devil’s Fighters do; watch and wait.
It’s minutes later when we see the bikes rolling down the hill. The caravan of jet black motorcycles is much larger than I think any of us thought Biggs had. With a hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun, I stand up to see more, but as I get to my feet, I hear it.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Men scream and holler as they duck to the ground and behind their vehicles.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
A hail of bullets come flying from a block or so away and are then returned seconds later from the Gravediggers.
Jake pulls me down. "Are you fucking crazy! He'll know you're here if you do that shit again!" Jake already looks as if he's seen it all, but I've heard about club-on-club wars. This is just the beginning. It won't stop until a truce is called.
But hopes of a peace negotiation dwindles as the bikes pull into the lot. Leading the pack isn't Biggs but Vice. The men behind him make up the bulk of the crew we saw back at the factory. And they've come armed.
"That's not—" Jake says in disbelief.
Vice takes off his dark colored helmet and flashes a broad smile to the Gravediggers circling his bike. Sniffing the dusty air, he yells out, "Where is that pussy ass motherfucker?"
"He's not here." My heart drops. Before I see him, I know Breaker is there, front and center. Vice doesn't look surprised to see him alive and well and back with his crew. I wonder how long it took them to figure out what game Henry and the rest of us played.
"Well, well, well, Breaker. It's nice to see you kicking. I thought our mutual friend Henry had done a number on you. My bad. I should’ve done the work myself."
"Hindsight's a bitch, ain’t it?" Breaker throws back. "Maybe we call it even and go our separate ways. As I said back in that room you stuck me in, we want the same thing."
Vice dismounts his bike, but no one moves. I choke back all the anxiety building inside of me as I plead with someone, anyone to just take him down. But all the Gravediggers stand frozen, watching on from a distance.
He takes another two sliding steps towards Breaker and says in a calm tone, "No. Here's the difference between what you want and what I want. You wanna take this club over from your president. But I just want the club, the territory, and that sweet ass princess of yours. I don't care who I have to destroy to get it."
Vice's hand shoots through the air, grabbing at Breaker's neck. Breaker lurches forward with his toes scraping up against the gravel rocks. The Gravediggers and the Devil's Fighters all draw weapons but are reluctant to move. This was between the two titans meeting eye to eye as they yanked and pulled at one another.
Breaker's face turns a pinkish blue with the veins in his face bulging. I can't bare to watch him go down like this, but I can't look away. Just when I think he's taken his last breath, he manages to strike Vice with the handle of his gun square on the back of his neck. Vice's head shakes forward and then back onto Breaker's shoulder. He pulls him down to his hip height and then slams a knee into his face.
"This is for Aimee, you son-of-a-bitch!" Breaker growls. Another boot lands on his chest, and Vice falls to the ground. A gun flies out of his vest pocket and towards the ground, but no one seems to notice Vice's hand fumbling towards it as Breaker sinks more and more blows to his chest and stomach.
"The gun!" I scream out, still hidden behind the tree.
A hand wraps around my mouth. I kick myself out, but as I spin to fight off Jake, I see Jake's feet lying next to me, still as can be. A puddle of blood forms around his stomach where his hand clutches a wound. "Aimee..." He tries to whisper, but it's too late.
From my side, Biggs appears. He places his arm around my neck in a chokehold and then drags me out of the back of the truck. I attempt to kick and drive up some attention, but he pushes harder into my windpipe.
No matter how much I cry out, no one can hear me over the sound of the shouts of men beginning to brawl. The war had broken out on all three sides.
"Shhh..." he coos into my hair. "I'm not gonna kill you, Aimee. Not yet, at least." He laughs while we duck behind the tree.
Just as I manage to see through a patch of greenery, a gunshot rings out. Everything in my mind goes blank as I search to spot who was on the receiving end of that bullet. A man lies on the ground, unmoving. But the one standing before him kneels down. That dark, slick hair covers Breaker's face as he feels for a pulse.
The entire parking lot goes silent, and all fighting stops. The men stand arm-to-arm, and in a few cases, pause their bloody knuckles in mid-air to see what comes next.
"Looks like your man won. Good. More for me to pick off!"
Pick off... I don't know why that phrase rings to me. Pick off...
"Come on, Aimee. We've got work to do." He holds me close as we peel off towards the groups.
Breaker doesn't notice us as he addresses everyone. "Devil's Fighters! I ain't got no beef with you. You're free to leave and do what you do. Take this as a peace offering between our two clubs from now on. We respect your territory. You respect ours, and we won't have any problems. You wanna join up with the Gravediggers; we can discuss that too."
The Devil's Fighters look to their interim-president, the second-in-command. When he drops the pipe he was using to beat the back of one of the younger Gravediggers, the rest follow. Defeated ghosts, they march off towards their bikes.
The remaining men look as shell-shocked as I feel. Breaker beat the most legendary club president currently roaming the streets. And he did it on his own turf using Vice's own men. They stare at him from afar as he directs the boys on how to go about the cleanup.
With his arm still around my neck, Biggs interrupts the silence with five loud, slow claps. One-by-one, the men turn to see him. They part before us till Breaker finally spies us in the crowd. Biggs pulls me in so that I'm practically wrapped around his body. A gun points up against my forehead.
"Tsk! Tsk! I thought I taught you better than that, Breaker! You don't let clubs retreat back home when you got them on the run."
Breaker drops Vice's gun on the ground as he replies, "It's not your club anymore, Biggs. You see these guys, they're with Henry and me now."
"Traitors!" Biggs calls out. "Fucking traitors! The Gravediggers is my club! This is my bar! And this is my territory!" I can feel his rage radiating off of his body as his arm tightens. I begin to cough from the pressure.
"Oh yeah," Biggs adds, "And this bitch is mine as well." The gun pushes further into my temple. I look up at Breaker, wanting to scream out his name, tell him to just let me go and run, but I can't. I'm silenced.
"Let her go, Biggs! Walk out of here now, and we won't have to kill ya!"
"You know how I know you won't come a foot closer to me? It's because you're vulnerable. You let this bitch get close, and now I know you'll do what I say."
"What do you want?"
"I want you down on your knees begging for her life."
I cough out, "No!"
"Aimee!" Breaker scolds me before turning his eyes back on Biggs. "Let her go, and I'll leave."
"That's not good enough." He looks down at me, licking his big, dry lips with his pale tongue. He's not the only one radiating rage now. I take a few deep breaths to steady myself. "First, I'm going to make you watch as I take Aimee. She must be good if you're willing to just beg like a—"
I drive the knife, his knife, through his side, twisting it out as I go and then pushing it into his stomach.
"Gah!" I cry out, and Biggs lets go of me, stammering forward on his toes towards Breaker. He leaves a trail of blood behind him while his mouth spurts out rusty, red splats.
"Breaker... I..." Biggs can't get the rest out. With an arm outstretched towards Breaker, he falls and does not get back up.
I sink to my knees. Two dead men before me, and one alive. The one that matters. Breaker. I place the knife on the ground, just out of the way of Breaker as he slides over to me.
"Aimee... how did you? Where did you?"
"It was his," I say, my voice hollow. "I pickpocketed him."
Breaker scoops me up like a noble prince carrying his wounded princess and heads back toward the bar. His men watch as we leave the scene, never looking back. It’s all finally over.