Damian

 

The plan was far from elegant. It was crude, simple, and could very well be effective. Mills had set the meet in an old barn that was well off the beaten path. It was a place we often used to conduct our business.

 

I was concealed inside a van that was parked inside the barn. Mills and three of his guys were outside and would talk to Mendoza when he arrived. We had a dozen guys hidden in the woods right outside the back door of the barn, and one of the prospects was stationed up the road a bit to act as a spotter.

 

Assuming all went according to plan, it would be a simple operation. We would supposedly have the numbers. We'd take out Mendoza and his guys, smash the power base of the Fantasmas, and Cara could go on with her life without having to look over her shoulder every day.

 

That was, of course, assuming that everything went according to plan. Something that in my experience, rarely happened. Not only that, but there was something tickling the back of my mind – something that just felt wrong about this whole thing.

 

“You okay?” Cara whispered to me.

 

She was in the back of the van with me and would only be taken out to show Mendoza that Mills had her. The interior of the van was dim and gloomy, and though I would have loved to have seen her face, to look into those big doe eyes of hers, we had to remain in the dark. If Mendoza got tipped that I was there, he'd know something was up – and the bullets would likely start flying.

 

“Yeah, fine,” I said. “Just wishing like hell you weren't here.”

 

She reached out and fumbled around for a moment before finding my hand, taking it in hers and giving it a squeeze.

 

“It's going to be okay,” she said, her voice surprisingly strong and confident.

 

“I really hope so.”

 

“It will be. Have a little faith.”

 

“Faith in what?”

 

Her grip tightened on my hand a bit, and though I couldn't see her, I knew she was smiling.

 

“Faith that once this is all over,” she said, “you are going to take me out for a nice dinner.”

 

I laughed softly. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

 

“No. I'm asking you to ask me out on a date.”

 

I put my other hand over the top of hers. “I thought you didn't want my kind in your life.”

 

“Maybe I've been a little too hasty and judgmental,” she said. “You're a good man, Damian Hawke. A little rough around the edges, but I've seen your heart, and it is a beautiful thing. Austin adores you, and you're so good with him. And you're even better with me. So yeah, maybe we need to work a few things out, but I think that whatever this thing between us is, it might be worth exploring.”

 

The way she phrased that last bit sounded more like a question – a hopeful one at that. And hearing that filled my heart and made me smile. I knew how I felt about her, and knowing that Cara might feel something for me – it filled me with a happiness I'd never known before.

 

“I think it's definitely worth exploring,” I said.

 

I raised her hand to my lips and planted a soft kiss. I heard her moving, and before I knew it, she had taken my face in her hands and planted her lips against mine. The kiss was soft and chaste, but it imparted a lot. She sat back on the bench across from me and took my hand again.

 

“There's something troubling you,” she said.

 

I shrugged. “Something just doesn't seem right to me.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like this meet. It's too easy,” I replied. “That Mendoza would willingly come onto our turf and agree to bring only a small number of his guys – something seems off about that. It's not like we have a great relationship with the Fantasmas to begin with – and the whole mess with that run only made it worse.”

 

“So, what are you thinking?”

 

“I don't know. Maybe I'm jumping at shadows again,” I admitted. “But to me, this all sounds like Mendoza and Mills might have a tighter relationship than any of us know.”

 

“Which would lend credence to your idea that Mills had Mendoza try to take you out.”

 

“Exactly,” I said. “But again, I have no proof to back that up. Just a gut feeling.”

 

“Well, once we get out of this, we'll do what we can to dig up that proof,” Cara said. “And then you'll have to decide what you're going to do with it.”

 

I nodded, though I doubted she could see me in the dark. A moment later, somebody pounded on the outside of the van, and I felt Cara jump.

 

“Mendoza's inbound,” one of Mills' guys said. “Four total. No trailers. Should be a walk in the park.”

 

“See?” she said. “A walk in the park.”

 

“Yeah,” I said, doubts continuing to plague my mind. “A walk in the park.”

 

A few minutes later, the roar of four bikes could be heard outside the barn. The engines shut off and a moment later, I heard the rattle and squeak of the front door opening. The knot in my stomach tightened, and beads of sweat rolled down my back.

 

It was showtime.

 

I leaned forward on the bench of the van, straining my ears to listen. I didn't want to miss a word of it.

 

“I have to admit,” Mendoza said. “I'm surprised you called me, Mills. Even more surprised that you have the girl.”

 

“Shouldn't be too surprising,” Mills replied. “I heard this one meant something to you, so I scooped her up. Thought she'd make a good bargaining chip.”

 

Mendoza laughed. “Always the businessman, huh?”

 

“It's how we get ahead in this dog eat dog world, Mendoza.”

 

“Not that I don't trust you, but let me see her,” Mendoza said.

 

I listened to the sound of footsteps approaching the van. A moment later, the side door slid open, and I ducked back, hiding further into the shadows. Cara allowed herself to be taken out and then the door was closed again – mostly. It was left partway open, so I could get out when the action started. I pulled my gun out of the holster and caressed the smooth, metal barrel.

 

“Good to see you again, Cara,” Mendoza said. “Been lookin' forward to this.”

 

“Go to hell,” she snapped.

 

“Let's talk business,” Mills said. “In exchange for the girl, we want half of your territory in the valley – both the gun and drug trade.”

 

Mendoza laughed. “You want my left nut with that too?”

 

“Come on, Mills,” I whispered. “Call the signal.”

 

I sat alone in the dark, listening and waiting. From where I sat, it sounded like he was actually negotiating with Mendoza. The plan had been to get the Fantasmas in, get them hooked, and call the rest of our guys in. There wasn't supposed to be a prolonged negotiation about it. And yet, that's exactly what it sounded like was happening.

 

Was Mills double crossing me? Was his actual intent to make a deal with Mendoza and actually hand Cara over? And if so, then what about me? Was that why he'd insisted on having his guys, guys I knew were loyal to him, in the barn while guys on my side of the fence were outside waiting? Was he going to put a bullet in me? Or would he allow Mendoza to do it?

 

“It's a win-win,” Mills said. “You get this chick you've been tryin' to get your hands on. We get a little more business. Plus, it improves the relationship between our clubs a hundredfold.”

 

“You're talkin' about a lot of territory, carnal,” Mendoza said. “A lot of money.”

 

“There's enough to go around, man. And I may even have a little something to sweeten the pot for you.”

 

“Oh yeah? What's that?” Mendoza asked.

 

This was all wrong. This wasn't the way it was all supposed to happen. And I had zero doubts that the next words out of Mills' mouth were going to be that he was tossing me into the deal for Mendoza to do with as he pleased.

 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent an urgent text to Crank, telling him to get our guys into the barn now. I sent the message and tightened my grip on my weapon, ready to start firing – and I was going to start with Mills. I might go down, but I was going to take that son of a bitch down with me.

 

A moment later, I heard the doors at the far end of the barn open with a loud cracking and squeaking. The voices of Crank and the guys filled the interior of the barn, shouting at Mendoza to get down on his knees.

 

“What the fuck is this, Mills?” Mendoza shouted.

 

I would have given anything to see Mills' face at that moment. I really had no clue how he thought he was going to be able to pull off a double cross like that. It took real balls to think that he could. But then, Mills had always been an arrogant son of a bitch.

 

I climbed out of the van, my gun in hand. Crank and the boys had Mendoza and his guys down on their knees with their hands on top of their heads. Mendoza looked at me with rage in his eyes.

 

“Shoulda figured you'd pull somethin' like this, puto,” Mendoza sneered. “Fuckin' coward. Gotta pull this shit.”

 

“Yeah, whatever,” I said.

 

I walked over to Cara and put my hand on her shoulder. She looked up at me and I could see the fear receding, being replaced with relief. It was over.

 

“Hey, Hawke,” Mendoza called. “I got somethin' to tell you. Did you know your president—”

 

Mendoza was cut off from finishing his statement by Mills' boot cracking him in the mouth. His head snapped back and a spray of blood shot into the air. Mendoza fell forward onto his hands and knees, spitting blood and teeth out onto the ground. He looked up at Mills and smiled, the blood and gore making him look ghastly.

 

“Shut your fuckin' hole,” Mills said. “Nobody wants to hear shit from you.”

 

Unfortunately for Mills, I already knew what he was going to say. I looked at the Fantasmas lined up on the ground – and then at my guys lined up behind them, weapons at the ready. As much as I wanted Mendoza dead – and I did – a sudden stab of guilt tore through me. This was going to be nothing but a cold-blooded execution.

 

And I suddenly didn't know that I could go through with it.

 

I looked into Cara's eyes and saw the same conflict in hers I knew was in mine. It was one thing to talk about executing some guys when it was an abstract concept. It was something else entirely to actually do it.

 

“Get in the van,” I said. “Please.”

 

She nodded and got into the van, sliding the door closed behind her. She didn't want to be a part of this any more than I did.

 

“Any last words, amigo?” Mills sneered down at Mendoza.

 

“Wait, wait,” I said. “Just wait a second.”

 

Mills looked at me and shrugged. “What?”

 

“We don't need to do this. Not this way.”

 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

I looked down at Mendoza. “I have a deal for you. One you should probably take.”

 

Mendoza spat a mouthful of blood on the ground at my feet, his eyes never leaving mine. “I'm listening.”

 

“You give us seventy-five percent of your territory,” I said. “And you stay the fuck away from Cara forever. In exchange, you walk out of here with your lives.”

 

“What the fuck are you doin', Damian?” Mills almost shouted. “We can end this right here and right now.”

 

“That's what I'm tryin' to do, Mills,” I shouted back. “Nobody has to die here tonight. Not if Mendoza agrees to the terms.”

 

“This ain't your call to make,” Mills said.

 

“It is mine to make,” I said. “This is my op. Not yours. You agreed to help, but this was my op. Period. If Mendoza agrees, you're still making out like a bandit. The Kings still stand to profit big time.”

 

“Yeah? And how are we gonna hold 'em to it?” Mills asked. “How are we gonna enforce it?”

 

“Same way we'd enforce it if we did it your way – with our guys on the street,” I said. “We put the word out, we get Mendoza on tape agreeing to our terms and put that out too. It's a win-win.”

 

I looked down at Mendoza – his face was dark and filled with utter rage and hatred. “You got King-Kong sized balls, white boy.”

 

“Take the deal, Mendoza,” I said. “Otherwise, Mills is dyin' to put two in your head.”

 

“Fuck you, puto.”

 

I squatted down so I could look him in the eye. “Look, asshole, I'm tryin' to save your goddamn life here,” I said. “This is gonna go down one of two ways. One, you can agree to the terms, keep a portion of your territory, so you can still earn. And the even bigger bonus is that you walk out of here alive. Or two, you say no, you die and lose all of your territory anyway. If you die, the Fantasmas are done because I know that behind you, are nothing but a bunch of weak ass fuck-ups who can't run your MC. Your charter will become extinct, man.”

 

Mendoza looked at me and then at Mills, seeming to be weighing his options. Which was a good thing. He hadn't rejected the offer out of hand – something that just might keep his blood off our hands. All things considered, it was a good deal. He'd still be able to earn, we'd get more territory and be able to earn more, and nobody would have to die.

 

“What do you say, Mendoza?” I asked. “Do the smart thing here, man. I'm beggin' you.”

 

Mendoza sighed and lowered his eyes to the ground. He gave a subtle nod of his head and sent an overwhelming wave of relief crashing down over me. I stood up and turned around to face Mills.

 

“See?” I asked. “It's a win-win for all of us.”

 

The irritation in Mills' face was obvious. He glared at me with unvarnished hatred in his eyes. Nothing he'd planned had worked out for him the way he'd intended. But that was his problem. I wasn't going to be part of a slaughter that gained us nothing – nothing we didn't get Mendoza to concede without bloodshed.

 

“And you're gonna trust this wetback to keep his word?” he asked. “You think if we let him walk out of here, everything's gonna be all good? Let me tell you something, kid, you let Mendoza walk out of here, you're starting a war out on the streets. A lot more people are gonna die.”

 

I shook my head. “We broke their back tonight, Mills. This is over. We won and we'll stand to make a big profit here. There is no downside.”

 

Mills looked at me a moment longer, his disgust with me plain. I didn't care though. I'd seen enough bloodshed in my day. I'd seen too many people die and I didn't want any more blood on my hands if I could help it. I staved off a war, not started one.

 

“Nah,” Mills said. “You can't trust these fuckin' wetbacks.”

 

Before I could react, Mills stepped forward and pulled his weapon. Holding it mere inches from Mendoza's face, he pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot roared like a cannon in the barn and echoed away into the night. Mendoza's eyes grew wide for a moment before he fell backward onto the ground – right into a puddle of his own blood and brain matter.

 

Mills' guys stepped forward and shot each of Mendoza's guys the same way. I stood there in shock, staring at the blood and tissue that covered the dirt floor of the barn. I looked at the four lifeless bodies, their eyes open wide, staring at the ceiling.

 

Crank and the other guys stood statue still, their eyes wide with disbelief. He looked up at me and all I could do was lower my eyes to the ground and shake my head.

 

“What the fuck did you just do, Mills?” I asked softly.

 

“Secured the future of this MC,” he snapped. “And avoided a war in the streets, no thanks to you.”

 

“I had a deal in place, you son of a bitch!” I roared. “This was over!”

 

“No, what's over is your time as the club's VP,” he said. “You've clearly lost the stomach for the job. I'm gonna bring it to the table for a vote.”

 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” I sneered.

 

Mills looked at the bodies and then back at me, giving me a crooked smile. He turned and walked out of the barn, his sycophants following in his wake.

 

“Crank,” I said, shaking my head, still in stunned disbelief. “Have the prospects get rid of these bodies. Have them buried deep. We can't risk them being found.”

 

“Yeah,” he said, sounding as shell-shocked as I felt. “I'm on it.”

 

I looked up and saw Cara standing beside the open door of the van. Her eyes were wide and tears streamed down her face. I moved to her quickly and pulled her into a tight embrace. She clung to me tightly, her body trembling.

 

“It's okay,” I said quietly. “It's over now. It's over. Let me get you home.”

 

I helped her get back into the passenger side of the van. I took one last look at the bodies of Mendoza and his men. Yeah, this part of it was over, but something bigger and something nastier was coming around the bend.

 

And it was going to be here very, very soon.