Page 28 of Arch
Maybe I’ve always known this day of reckoning was coming. But I guess part of me had always hoped we could end the Vipers another way. But if it has to go down like this, then so be it.
I glance over my shoulder at Keegan, his eyes sharp despite the bruise on his jaw from last night’s scrape. He’s not a Rider yet, not patched, but he’s riding with me, and that’s a statement to the club and anyone watching.
He’s mine—my boy, my responsibility—and I’ll be damned if I let the Vipers touch him again.
“Stay close,” I growl over the engine’s roar, my voice cutting through the wind. “No heroics, Keegan. You hear me?”
The boy leans in, his breath warm against my neck.
“Got it, Daddy,” Keegan shouts. “But you know I’m not good at sitting still.”
The wordDaddyhits like a spark, but I shove it down.
No time for that now.
The warehouse looms ahead, a rusted beast squatting under the stars, its windows dark but not empty.
I can feel it—the Vipers are waiting, and they’re not alone.
My mind’s already spinning, mapping the terrain, the exits, the choke points. I’ve outsmarted worse than this, but the traitor’s shadow hangs heavy, a knife in the dark I can’t see yet…
We cut our engines a quarter-mile out, stashing the bikes in a ditch and moving on foot. Keegan’s at my side, his steps silent, his Army training showing in the way he scans the shadows.
Tank and Jinx take the east side, Clay and Jace the west, while the others fan out to cover the perimeter.
The plan is tight… hit fast, hit hard, take Rico and their supplier alive if we can. The traitor’s the real prize, though, and I’m ready to rip the truth out of whoever’s been selling us out.
“Arch,” Keegan whispers, pointing to a side door, slightly ajar. “That’s my way in from last night. Still open.”
I nod, signaling Clay.
“We go in quiet,” I whisper. “Keegan, you’re with me. Clay, Jace, flank us. Tank, hold the line outside.”
The men nod in agreement. They’re as ready to end this as I am.
We move like wolves, silent and lethal, slipping through the door into the warehouse’s gut.
Crates tower around us, a maze of shadows, and I hear voices—low, tense, coming from the back. Rico’s there, his nasally tone unmistakable, but there’s another voice, one that stops me cold.
It’s familiar, too familiar, and my blood turns to ice…
“Jinx,” I mutter, my voice barely a breath.
Keegan’s eyes snap to mine, wide with the same realization. Jinx, our youngest full-patch, the kid we’ve all been pulling for, is the rat.
The betrayal cuts deeper than any blade, but there’s no time to feel it.
Not yet.
I motion for Keegan to stay low, my hand on his shoulder, grounding him as much as myself. We creep closer, the voices clearer now.
Rico’s talking about a shipment, numbers that match our routes, our safehouses. Jinx is feeding him details, his voice tight with guilt but not enough to stop.
I clench my jaw, my hand itching for my gun, but I need them alive—for now.
“Arch,” Keegan hisses, his hand brushing mine, urgent. “They’re moving. Sounds like more guys coming in.”
Keegan is right too…
