Page 50 of Claimed By The Club
Viper is posted near the door, arms folded across his chest. His gaze flicks between me and the small window overlooking the compound’s yard. Neither of us has slept. We can’t erase the tension from last night’s final briefing—the talk of a “bogus shipment,” the lure for the Reapers, the rumor that’s spreading fast enough to draw them in like moths to a flame. But Frost made it clear I was to remain behind, guarded, not physically present to risk myself.
The plan was for me to keep safe while the club flushes out any last traitor and cripples the Reapers. But the thought of them out there, facing bullets and betrayal, churns my stomach. I recall the frantic nights when the Reapers attacked us head-on, and it makes me sick that I’m once again sidelined.
“Any update from Frost?” I ask quietly, staring at Viper’s phone resting on the coffee table. We’ve had no texts, no calls.
He shakes his head. “Not yet. They’re waiting for the Reapers to show.” His tone carries a weary edge, as if he’d rather be out there fighting beside them.
We lapse into silence. I cling to the memory of Frost’s last words:“You stay here, guarded. I won’t let them near you.”But while I understand the logic, I hate feeling powerless. My ex-partner’s involvement, the traitor’s sabotage—it’s all swirling around me like a storm I can’t break.
After a long pause, Viper sighs. “Sitting here is killing you, isn’t it?”
I nod, throat tight. “Every minute feels like an hour. If something goes wrong?—”
He presses his lips together, gaze flicking to the window. “We gotta trust Frost. He knows what he’s doing.”
My chest twists. “Doesn’t mean something can’t go horribly wrong. I can’t stand waiting around for a text that might never come.”
Viper exhales, raking a hand through his sandy hair. The tension in his posture mirrors my own. “I get it, believe me. But Frost gave an order.”
I clench my fists. “And you’re following it.”
He looks away, conflict swirling in his green eyes. We’ve all got complicated loyalties to juggle. The MC depends on structure, but we also share personal ties that defy rules. Part of me wants to run outside, hop on a bike, and chase after them, but I know that could compromise the entire plan.
Finally, the phone buzzes, making both of us jump. Viper snatches it, eyes scanning the screen. I hold my breath. A moment later, he curses under his breath, tension etching lines in his face.
“What is it?” I demand, heart pounding.
“It’s one of the prospects. They haven’t heard from Frost’s team yet, but they saw a small group of Reapers heading that way—maybe more than we expected.” He looks up, anxiety blazing. “Something about them bringing reinforcements.”
Fear lances through me. “So if they’re outnumbered…”
Viper’s jaw clenches. “We can’t just barge in. Frost said if we ride in unannounced, we blow the ambush.”
I push off the couch, pacing the length of the tiny living room. “Then we risk them getting slaughtered if the Reapers show in bigger numbers.”
He stands, stepping into my path. “We gotta trust the plan.”
Anger and worry boil in my chest, mixing into a single, desperate urge to do something. My old life taught me never to be a passive victim, but the club keeps trying to protect me by shutting me away. That might make sense logically, but it tears me up inside. My eyes sting with tears I refuse to shed. “How can I just trust that everything will be okay? Who’s to say the Reapers don’t have another trick up their sleeve?”
Viper sighs heavily. He sets the phone on the table, then grips my shoulders, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Sierra, Frost is no fool. Neither is Ghost, or Axel. They’ll adapt if the Reapers bring more men. That’s how we survive in this world.”
I stare at him, frustration mounting. “Then why am I here with you, caged, while they face bullets? I could help.”
He shakes his head, though not as firmly as before. “You heard Frost. They want you safe. You get caught in the crossfire, or the Reapers snag you, and all of this is for nothing.”
I grit my teeth, stepping away, arms folded tight across my chest. My mind flashes to the day I discovered my ex-partner’s betrayal, to the times I got threatened. Every memory screams that passivity is the worst form of risk. “I can’t stand it,” I murmur, voice trembling. “I’m going.”
Viper tenses. “You’re not supposed to?—”
“I don’t care,” I snap. “We have a vantage if we approach from the hillside. I won’t blow the plan if I keep my distance. I just need to see for myself that they’re okay.”
He hesitates, conflict twisting his features. “And if we get there and the Reapers do spot you? That’ll shift everything.”
I square my shoulders, refusing to back down. “We’ll be careful. Please, Carter. Let me do this.”
For a second, I think he’ll shut me down. Then he swallows hard, gaze shifting to the phone. “Frost will kill me if something happens to you. But if the Reapers really brought more men, maybe we can slip in behind them, offer backup.”
Relief floods me, tempered by fear. “Exactly. If the plan still works, we won’t need to interfere. But if everything goes to hell, at least we’ll be there to help.”
