Page 56 of Savage Loyalty

Grim lingered as the others dispersed. He pulled out a cigar, the faint spark of a match flickering against the dark warehouse walls. He leaned against a nearby crate, exhaling a thick plume of smoke before speaking. "You think this will be enough to slow them down? Or are we just playing for time?"

"It'll rattle them," I said, stepping up beside him. "But I don't think it'll stop them. Serpents don’t scare easily. They’ll come harder next time."

"You hope," he muttered, his tone skeptical. He paused, taking another drag from the cigar. "Double the patrols around the garage and the perimeter. I want anyone with explosives taken out before they get within a mile of us."

He turned his sharp gaze on me, smoke curling between his words. "And tell Blade to set up decoys. Make it look like we’re more vulnerable than we are. If they think they have the advantage, we can draw them into a trap."

I nodded, taking mental notes. "You thinking counterattack?"

Grim’s mouth curved into a grim smile. "I’m thinking we end this war before it really starts."

"They’ve been pushing too hard for too long," I added, meeting his gaze. "A message isn’t going to cut it this time."

Grim nodded slowly. "Exactly. They think we’re playing defense. It’s time to remind them why no one messes with the Reapers."

The weight of his words settled heavily between us, the air thick with tension. "What about the rest of the club?" I asked. "Do they know the full plan yet?"

Grim exhaled, the smoke curling lazily above his head. "Not yet. I’ll brief them tomorrow morning. I need everyone sharp. No one goes into this half-assed, Ryder. If someone screws up, we lose more than turf. We lose brothers."

I clenched my fists at his words. "No one’s screwing up. Not on my watch."

Grim studied me for a long moment, his gaze piercing. "I know you won’t. That’s why I’m trusting you with this. You and Blade will handle the decoys. Shadow and Dex will secure the perimeter. Everyone else will be on standby."

I nodded, already forming the plan in my mind. "We’ll need more firepower if they’re coming in with explosives. I’ll talk to Doc and make sure we’ve got what we need."

Grim smirked, his usual grim demeanor lightening for a second. "Always two steps ahead, huh? That’s why you’re here. But don’t forget, this isn’t just about brute force. We outsmart them, Ryder. That’s how we win."

"Understood," I replied. "What’s the fallback plan if things go south?"

Grim’s expression darkened. "There isn’t one. We hold the line, no matter what. This is our home. Our family. If we lose this fight, we lose everything."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I nodded. "Then we don’t lose."

He clapped a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm. "Damn right, we don’t. Now, get moving. We’ve got work to do."

I turned to leave, the weight of responsibility heavy on my shoulders. But as I reached the warehouse door, Grim’s voice stopped me.

"Ryder," he called, his tone softer. "You’ve got a good head for this. Don’t let your anger cloud it."

I glanced back at him, nodding once before stepping into the cool night air. Grim’s words stayed with me, echoing in my mind as I headed to my bike. This wasn’t just another fight. This was the fight. And we were going to win it—or die trying.

I nodded, the weight of his order settling in my gut. Grim might've been calm, but his mind was already spinning with countermeasures. That was his way. Always three steps ahead, always preparing for the worst.

I headed to my bike. This wasn’t just another fight. This was the fight. And we were going to win it—or die trying.

The night air hit my face like a slap as I walked out of the warehouse, the metallic tang of blood still thick in the back of my throat. The roar of my bike started low, rumbling under me like a beast waiting to be unleashed. I let it idle for a moment, staring out into the darkened streets. Everything felt sharper, more alive like the edge of a blade pressed too close to the skin.

As I throttled out of the lot, the weight of the night pressed against my chest. Delilah’s face crept into my mind, uninvited but relentless. Her laugh. Her fire. The way she looked at me like I was more than a man who lived by violence. I gripped the handlebars tighter, the memory twisting something deep inside me. She always ran when things got hard. It was her way. But this time, it wasn’t just about her leaving me. It felt bigger than that, like she was running from something she didn’t think I could fix.

The cold wind bit at my face as I picked up speed, the city blurring past in streaks of shadow and light. My thoughts shifted, unbidden, to the Black Vipers and the Iron Serpents. Two clubs that had been circling us for months, waiting for a weakness. The Vipers were chaos unleashed—wild, reckless, a storm with no center. They thrived on fear and uncertainty, making their enemies second-guess every move. But the Serpents? They were cold and calculated, every move deliberate and deadly. Fighting them wasn’t like facing chaos; it was like going to war with precision.

We were the only thing standing between them and absolute control of the city. And they knew it. That’s why they were coming for us, guns blazing, with bombs to finish the job. They wanted us to fall, to shatter under the weight of their assault. But they didn’t understand the Reapers. They didn’t understand what it meant to fight for something more than territory—for family.

The clubhouse loomed ahead, its silhouette stark against the night sky. The low hum of voices and occasional bursts of laughter carried from inside, but the tension was palpable even out here. Everyone knew what was coming.

I eased off the throttle, letting the bike settle into a low growl as I pulled into the lot. The familiar line of bikes gleamed under the security lights, but tonight, they felt more like warhorses than machines. I killed the engine and swung off, my boots crunching against the gravel as I made my way inside.

The warm glow of the clubhouse greeted me, but the usual comfort wasn’t there. The air inside was thick with unspoken fears and barely contained aggression. Blade was at the bar, sharpening a knife with methodical precision. Shadow leaned against the far wall, his fingers tapping a silent rhythm. The rest of the guys were scattered, some playing pool, others lost in quiet conversation. As I stepped in, the room fell silent for a beat before the hum of activity resumed.

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