Page 35 of Baby for the Bikers

My brothers and I exchange glances. Cypher—leader of the Vipers MC, one of the most ruthless drug suppliers on the West Coast. We dismantled one of his major cocaine distribution networks in northern California last year.

“How much?” Maddox asks, his voice deceptively casual.

“Two million. Each.” Matthews lets that sink in. “He’s still rebuilding after what you did to his operation. Lost him close to fifty million in product and infrastructure.”

“Seems like we did our job well,” I comment dryly. “What’s the concern? We’ve had bounties before.”

“Not like this.” Matthews leans closer to his camera. “He’s contracted some serious players. Ex-military. Cartel enforcers. He wants you alive, by the way. Says he wants to take his time.”

The implication hangs heavy. Cypher’s reputation for creative vengeance is well-documented.

“So what’s the play?” Teller asks, looking at me. “You want to relocate the boys temporarily?”

“Fuck that,” Maddox snaps. “We’re not running.”

“I agree,” I say. “We’re established here. This is our home. We’ll increase security, but we’re not leaving.” I lean forward, adding, “Let us go back and finish what we started. End Cypher and the Vipers for good.”

Matthews shakes his head firmly. “That’s not happening. This situation requires a delicate touch, not a frontal assault. Cerberus will handle Cypher.”

“And what are we supposed to do?” Maddox demands. “Sit around waiting to be hunted?”

“Exactly that.” Matthews’s tone leaves no room for argument. “Keep your heads down. Maintain your normal routines. Act like you know nothing about this.”

“So we’re bait,” I say flatly.

Matthews sighs. “You’re assets we’d prefer not to lose. Let us handle this. That’s an order.”

“We don’t work for you anymore,” I remind him.

“No, but you’re still living because of us,” he counters. “Trust me when I say engaging Cypher directly right now would be a mistake.”

“What’s your stake in this?” Teller asks Matthews directly. “Why help at all?”

“Cypher’s organization has information we need,” Matthews admits. “We’ve been building a case against his entire network. You three stumbling in guns blazing would compromise years of work.”

“How thoughtful,” I say dryly.

“Plus,” Matthews continues as if I hadn’t spoken, “we invested a lot in you three. Be a shame to waste it.”

The meeting continues for another hour—logistics, intel, and potential approaches. By the time Matthews signs off, we have the beginnings of a plan, but nothing concrete. Teller orders everyone but us out of the room once the call ends.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says once we’re alone. “Black Wolves can provide protection. We take care of our own.”

“We appreciate that,” I tell him sincerely. “But this is our mess to clean up.”

“Besides,” Maddox adds, “we’re pretty good at what we do.”

Teller studies us for a long moment. “Tank would be proud of the men you’ve become.” He stands, signaling the end of the meeting. “Keep me updated. Any resources you need, they’re yours.”

Outside, the day has fully bloomed into Saturday brightness, at odds with the darkness we just discussed. My brothers are silent as we walk to our bikes, each processing what we’ve learned.

“We should warn Rowan,” Maddox says suddenly. “If these guys come for us, anyone close could be in danger.”

The thought of Rowan caught in the cross fire makes my stomach turn. “Not yet. No reason to scare her if we can handle this quietly.”

“She’s at the diner alone today,” Ryder points out.

“I’ll head over,” Maddox volunteers too quickly. “Make sure everything’s secure.”

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