Page 18 of Arch
Shadows move fast, three, maybe four guys in dark gear, their bikes roaring as they close in.
One of the prospects panics, dropping a crate, and the crash echoes like a gunshot.
“Get down!” Tank bellows, drawing a pistol, but I’m already moving.
My training kicks in, and I sprint for the van, diving behind it as bullets ping off the metal.
The crates are still half-loaded, and if the Vipers get them, we’re fucked.
I spot one of their guys creeping toward the dock, a crowbar in hand, ready to pry open our cargo.
There’s no way in hell this is happening on my watch…
I don’t think, just act.
I bolt from cover, tackling the guy before he can swing. We hit the ground hard, my fist connecting with his jaw, and he’s out cold.
But another Viper’s on me, a blade flashing.
I roll, kicking his legs out, and grab the crowbar, smashing it across his knee. He screams, collapsing, and I’m back on my feet, dragging the crates toward the van’s open door.
Tank’s firing now, keeping the others pinned, and Jinx is shouting for the prospects to move their asses.
It’s chaos, but we get the crates loaded, the van’s engine roaring as it peels out.
The Vipers scatter, their bikes screaming into the night, and I’m left panting, blood on my knuckles, the crowbar still in my hand.
Tank claps my shoulder, his grin wide.
“Not bad, kid,” Tank laughs, wiping sweat from his brow. “You’ve got balls.”
But I know Arch won’t see it that way.
I broke formation, acted without orders.
The old man’s gonna have my head on a platter when we get back…
We’re back at the clubhouse by midnight, the shipment secure, but the adrenaline’s still pumping through me.
Arch is waiting, leaning against the bar, his gray eyes locked on me the second I walk in.
Clay and Jace are there too, Dylan and Caleb hovering nearby, but it’s Arch’s stare that pins me.
He’s pissed, I can tell, but there’s something else in his look—something that makes my pulse race for reasons that have nothing to do with the ambush.
“Outside,” Arch says, voice low and hard, jerking his head toward the lot.
I follow, my jaw tight, knowing what’s coming.
The night’s cold, the floodlights casting long shadows as we step into the gravel lot, away from the others.
“You wanna tell me what the hell that was?” Arch starts, his voice cutting like a blade. “You were told to guard the dock, not play fucking hero. You could’ve gotten yourself killed, or worse, lost the shipment.”
“Isavedthe damn shipment,” I snap, my temper flaring. “They came from the west, Arch. Nobody saw that coming. I did what I had to. And I’d do it again.”
“You did what youwantedto,” Arch growls, stepping closer, his bulk towering over me. “You don’t get to make calls likethat, Keegan. You’re not a Wolf Rider yet. You follow orders, or you’re out.”
I laugh, sharp and bitter, my blood still hot from the fight.
