Page 52 of Claimed By the Bikers
“What’s that?” Silas asks softly.
“Family. Community. Taking care of people who can’t take care of themselves.” I turn back to face them. “You three have built something beautiful here. Something worth protecting.”
“Worth going to war for?” Atlas asks.
“Worth everything.” I move back to the couch, settling between Garrett and Silas. “So what happens now? When the FBI comes looking for their missing agent and the evidence she never provided?”
“Now we figure out how to protect what we’ve built,” Atlas says. “All of it. The operation, the families depending on us, and the woman who’s become the center of our world.”
“I’m not helpless in this fight. I have training, resources, connections of my own.”
“We know. But we also know you’ve already sacrificed enough for our cause.”
“It’s not your cause anymore. It’s ours.” I reach for both Garrett’s and Silas’s hands, holding tight. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not letting anyone destroy what we’ve built together.”
Atlas studies my face for a long moment, then nods. “In that case, we’d better start planning for war.”
“Good thing I know how the enemy thinks.”
“Good thing we know how to fight.”
16
ATLAS
The morning supplyinvoice spreadsheet shows everything in order—insulin shipments accounted for, blood pressure medications distributed to the Henderson route, and antibiotics delivered to the Morrison family for their youngest son’s pneumonia.
I lean back in my office chair, satisfaction warming my chest. After years spent building this network, we’re finally operating at the capacity I’d envisioned when Garrett and I first started talking about expanding beyond individual cases. Two hundred families across three counties, systematic distribution routes, and reliable suppliers who ask few questions.
My phone buzzes against the desk. Rico’s name is on the display, which could mean routine intel or serious problems. With Rico, there’s rarely anything in between.
“Talk to me.”
“We’ve got a problem.” His voice carries that edge it gets when he’s discovered something he doesn’t like. “Los Serpientes aremoving north. Three vehicles were spotted yesterday outside Flagstaff, and two more this morning near Sedona.”
I straighten in my chair. Los Serpientes—not the same Serpents who killed Garrett’s family twenty years ago, but a Mexican cartel that’s been expanding into Arizona territory. Bad news for anyone trying to run quiet operations in the mountains.
“How reliable is this intel?”
“Solid. My contact at the border patrol says they’ve been tracking increased activity for two weeks. Looks like someone’s planning to establish new territory.”
“Any connection to our operations?”
“Not yet. But they’ve been asking questions about supply routes through Wolf Pike. Specifically about who’s moving what through our area.”
Ice settles in my stomach. “They think we’re competition.”
“Or they want to be our partners. Either way, it’s not good.”
I run a hand through my hair, mind already shifting into tactical mode. “How much time do we have?”
“Hard to say. It could be days or weeks. But Atlas? These aren’t street dealers looking to sell drugs to teenagers. Los Serpientes are serious players. Military-grade weapons, professional operators, the kind of organization that eliminates problems rather than negotiating around them.”
“Understood. Increase security around all our sites. Double the watch on supply runs. And Rico?”
“Yeah?”
“Nobody moves alone from now on. Especially our girl.”
