Page 10 of Arch
I pause, letting the weight of my words sink in.
“The Vipers, that rival crew I mentioned? They’re not just punks,” I say. “They’ve got someone backing them, someone with money and muscle. They hit our stash house last week, torched a bike last night. They’re coming for our territory, and they don’t play clean. You sign on with us, you’re signing on for that fight. And it’s a fight you might not walk away from. How does that sound, boy?”
Keegan’s eyes search mine, and for the first time, I see him really listen, the cockiness giving way to something serious.
“And what’s in it for me?” the boy asks, voice low.
“A place to belong,” I say, meaning it. “A purpose. And maybe, if you stop acting like a brat, something more.”
The last part slips out, laced with intent, and I see the way it hits him, the way his breath catches.
He doesn’t answer right away, just watches me, his jaw tight.
Then Keegan pushes off the wall, brushing past me, his shoulder grazing mine in a way that feels deliberate.
“I’ll think about it,” Keegan says, grabbing his wrench, turning back to the bike like I’m not even there.
But I know better.
I see the way his hands shake, just a little, the way he’s fighting to keep that cool mask in place.
I’ve got him rattled, and that’s enough for now.
“Don’t take too long, boy,” I say, heading for the door. “And stay out of trouble. Next time I won’t ask nice.”
Keegan’s infectious laugh follows me out, sharp and reckless. “Nice ain’t your style,Daddy.”
I don’t turn back, but my blood’s humming as I swing onto my bike.
Keegan’s a wildfire, and I’m playing with matches.
But as I gun the engine, the roar drowning out the garage’s fading music, I know one thing for sure:…
I’m not done with this boy. Not by a long shot.
Chapter 4
Keegan
Arch’s voice is still ringing in my ears hours after he left me in that greasy garage, pinned against the wall like I was his to command.
“You want in with the Wolf Riders, you play by my rules.”
My skin’s still buzzing where he grabbed my shirt, his knuckles brushing my chest, his growl so low it felt like it sank into my bones.
Ihatehow much I wanted to push him further, to see if he’d snap and close that inch between us.
Ihatehow much I’m still thinking about it, sprawled on my motel bed, the ceiling’s cracks blurring as I replay every word, every look…
“Urgh. I don’t need this shit in my life,” I grumble.
But I know that I need to face the situation head on…
Arch is offering me a shot with the Wolf Riders—family, purpose, a place to belong. It’s everything I’ve been missing since the Army spit me out.
But it comes with a catch:him.
Arch, with his steel-gray eyes and iron will, demanding I submit. The word alone makes my hackles rise. I’ve never been good at bowing to anyone, not my drill sergeants, not my CO, not even my own damn conscience.
