Chapter Sixteen
HAVEN
Nighthawk stands over me, her gun raised, firing, reloading, firing again.
Like a damn machine.
Who knew the student would become the master?
Finally finding my breath, I shake my head and haul myself upright with a guttural cry, fury overriding agony. “Fucking asshole!” I grumble.
She grins at me through her mask. “Hurts like a bitch, don’t it?” she chimes, shooting the final guard at point-blank range as he lunges at her.
“I’m just fucking angry now. You ready to go get this motherfucker?” I growl.
“Oh, yeah,” she roars.
Together, we charge the last few yards, boots thudding over broken glass and spent shells. With all my might, I use my shoulder to ram into the fucking door, the door breaks its hinges, bursting open with a groan, and as a team, we file into the final chamber with weapons hot.
Then everything stops.
The world narrows to a slow, poisoned heartbeat, and at the far end of the red-hued room, framed by polished black stone and decadence, stands Javier.
Untouched by the violence that scorched every inch of this compound.
Untouched by the lives torn apart under his command.
Untouched by the women who bled their way through hell to face him.
His white suit is pressed to perfection.
Not a wrinkle, not a smear.
A pistol rests in his gloved hand like an accessory.
But he doesn’t flinch.
He doesn’t run.
He just…
… smiles.
Like the arrogant fuck he is.
“Bravo,” he says, voice smooth as silk, but laced with venom. “Truly… magnifique.” His gaze glides over the blood-soaked feathers that remain. “You always had talent, my little birds. Though I must say, your entrance was very… theatrical.”
I take a step forward, shoulders heaving. My knife is warm in my hand, slick with blood. My vest is torn, my skin scorched.
But I am still standing.
“You should’ve run,” I rasp.
“Oh no, mi amore. That would ruin the performance.” His smile deepens. “After all, what’s the point of building a kingdom if you can’t watch the soldiers you made, think they can tear it all down?”
Nighthawk cocks her gun, staring him dead-eyed. “You honestly think we’re not going to rip you limb from limb. That we’re not gonna burn your empire to the fucking ground?”
Javier lifts his hands, gun dangling loosely from one finger.
“Well…” he drawls, spreading his arms wide with a cocky chuckle, “… I know you believe that you will, but we all know that deep down, soldiers always end up obeying their rulers. And I must say, you’ve made all this effort to come see me.
Your ruler, your superior, your king…” We all scoff, and I have to physically hold back the bile in my throat as the smug asshole continues, “So why not stay for dinner? Isn’t that how we met the first time, Blue Jay?
Over dinner? We had some looovely finger food—”
“On. Your. Knees,” I bark, my anger overwhelming me, as I raise my gun, aiming dead center at his chest.
He does not get to make jokes about Livvy and cutting off her finger.
Not now, not fucking ever!
He chuckles, placing the gun on his desk, and begins pacing the room. “You look positively radiant, Blue Jay. Covered in blood suits you. Livvy would’ve approved.”
My finger tightens on the trigger, my emotions starting to take a chokehold on me.
“Don’t,” Nighthawk warns softly. “Switch it off, Blue Jay.”
That was the reminder I needed.
Right now, I need to be a bird.
I can’t let Haven in at all.
Not even a little bit.
Because if I do, if I let my emotion win, I will do something I regret. And I can’t mess this up. That is what Javier will try to play on. My weaknesses. That’s what men like him do.
Mind games.
Javier bursts out laughing, throwing his hands in the air as he turns to me.
“Oh yes, the emotion switch. Shut it off, Blue Jay. Like a Vulcan from Star Trek. A genius idea that my uncle came up with. The only thing I will give him credit for, but I, on the other hand, have been able to manufacture a pharmaceutical way to make it happen easier, but you know… whatever works.”
Smirking, I take a tactical step forward, my gun still trained on him. “You know, Javier. You think you’re untouchable… but you’re not.”
He shrugs. “Is this where I beg for mercy?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Please. You were trained better than that. You think you’re free of me? I live in every scar. Every kill. You are me.”
“No,” I growl, stepping closer again, barrel raised. “We are the reckoning.”
He glances across at Nighthawk, an evil grin crossing his face. “The legendary Nighthawk,” he says, changing his focus from me, his voice carrying a slight Spanish accent. “My prodigal righthand returns home at last.”
Nighthawk stiffens beside me. “I’m not your slave anymore, Javier.”
“Oh, but you are. You always will be. Just as she…” he gestures toward me, “… will always be my greatest success. Look what I created. A killer so perfect that she believes herself to be redeemed.” He waves his hands through the air.
“She thinks she is so remarkable that she freed all those birds and even managed to get them to flock back to her to end me. Oh, by the way, it’s nice to see you again, ladies.
” He tips his head toward Peacock, Kestrel, Magpie, Rosella, and Kite.
“Fuck off,” Peacock growls.
“Eat shit,” Magpie snaps.
“Pfft,” Kestrel huffs.
“Oh, you’re sooo dead.” Rosella chuckles.
And Kite, always the quiet, stealthy one, simply picks up a knife and hurls it toward him.
It slices his ear as it lands with precision into the wall behind him, swaying back and forth with the force of the hit.
He hisses between his teeth, his hand shifting to his ear as blood pools between his fingers.
Nighthawk and I grin.
Rosella bursts out laughing, high-fiving a stoic Kite while she remains indifferent.
Furrowing my brows, I glare at the asshole. “You didn’t create anything, Javier,” I reply, my weapon still trained on his chest. “You broke children and called it training.”
“I gave you purpose. Direction. Without me, without the Cartel, you would have been just another forgotten girl from the streets. Instead, you became art. I mean, look at the beauty you ladies have created here today?”
The conversation is a distraction, and I know it.
He’s buying time, looking for an opening, an opportunity to escape or to turn the tables. But I also know that Nighthawk needs this. She needs to face the man who shaped her into a weapon and prove to herself that she’s more than his creation.
More than what she did to Livvy.
“You want to know what your greatest success really thinks of you?” I ask, taking a step forward.
“You’re nothing! A petty tyrant who feeds on suffering because you’re too weak to create anything meaningful.
The children upstairs? They’ll be free. Your network?
We’re tearing it down tonight. Your legacy? Nothing but pain we’re going to heal.”
His face darkens, and I see the facade of civilized control slipping away.
“You think you’re in control, Blue Jay? You have no idea what I’ve built.
The scope of what’s coming. This compound, these children, they’re only the beginning.
I have allies in every level of government.
Operations in every major city. You might stop this, but you’ll never stop all of it. ”
Nighthawk chuckles, stepping up beside me.
“Oh… but we will. Because what you’re yet to realize is that while we’re distracting you, Defiance MC is taking down all your operations, not just in LA, but in Chicago, Houston, New Orleans, Tampa, and Vegas.
Other Defiance chapters all across the country are working through various prisons to get out the women you have captive below the prisons as prisoners and that you have been breeding from. ”
His eyes widen in shock that we know, and the rush of having the upper hand ignites something wild inside me.
Nighthawk continues, “Oh, so you thought we’d only come for the prison here in LA?
Oh, no, cabrón. Once we had help from the Martinez twins, and they told us this prison issue was all over the country, that your rot had taken place everywhere, Defiance made the call to all its chapters, and right now, everything you’ve put in place is being torn down.
All your prison bullshit. All your warehouses.
Everywhere you do your business is simultaneously being ripped to shreds.
” Nighthawk chuckles as Javier narrows his eyes on her, clearly trying to gauge if she’s telling the truth or not.
She smiles widely, tilting her head at him.
“Plus, I forgot to add, the evidence of all your shit is being put out there for everyone to see. So, those officials you adore so much, those government assholes involved in your Cartel, everyone who is a part of your operations? They are all going down with the sinking ship. Now that’s what I call an ‘iceberg dead ahead,’ motherfucker!
” Nighthawk mocks, making the rest of us chuckle along with her Titanic reference.
Javier stands there, his smile faltering as he looks between all of us like he’s trying to figure out if we are fucking with him or not.
His breathing quickens as he begins moving toward his desk.
In unison, we all train our weapons on him, and he stills, raising his hands.
“I’m not going for my weapon, I’m verifying your information. ” His tone is curt, almost angry.
I wave my gun at him, and he moves faster than lightning, sliding into his desk chair, typing on his computer.
His face crinkles, his top lip curls, and he shakes his head while typing frantically, clearly moving through the security feeds for all of his sites.
His breathing escalates as he searches more and more.
The rage spreads across his face like wildfire, then his fist slams into the desk so hard the wood cracks beneath him. “Puta madre!” he swears in Spanish.