Page 3 of Arch (Wolf Rider MC Daddies #3)

Arch

Two days, and that kid’s still under my skin like a splinter I can’t dig out…

Keegan.

His name’s a low burn in my gut, tied to that smirk, those green eyes that dared me to do something about his mouth.

I should’ve let him walk out of The Ring and forgotten him.

It’s not like I haven’t got bigger problems to deal with—the Vipers’ latest move, a torched bike left outside our clubhouse with their mark carved into the frame.

Clay’s pissed, Jace is itching for blood, and the men are looking to me to keep this from turning into a war.

But instead of mapping out their next hit, I’m thinking about a twenty-two-year-old troublemaker who called me Daddy like it was a challenge.

Get a grip, Arch.

This ain’t you.

This isn’t how you roll.

Maybe I’m losing my edge. Forty-three years, and I’ve never let anything—anyone—distract me like this.

I’ve outsmarted every fed, every rival, every trap laid to take down the Wolf Riders. But Keegan? He’s a trap I didn’t see coming, and I’m not sure I want to dodge it.

I’m at the clubhouse, nursing a coffee blacker than my mood, when Tank mentions a new guy at Rusty’s Garage, a place on the edge of Willow Creek.

“Ex-military, mouthy, been fixing bikes for cash,” Tank says. “Sounded like that kid you tangled with at The Ring.”

My pulse kicks up, and I know it’s him.

I don’t need to hear more.

“Arch… what’s going on in that mind of yours?” Clay asks, his interest piqued as he slurps his coffee.

“Do we even need to ask?” Jace laughs, banging his fist down on the table in triumph like he thinks he’s cracked the Da Vinci Code or something.

Both Clay and Jace have been telling me to find a boy for a while now. The two of them have found theirs, and all of a sudden they think I need to follow suit.

Whatever. I’m not going to give either one of them the satisfaction of a response. I’ve got business to attend to.

I grab my jacket and head out, telling myself I’m just checking on a potential loose end and definitely not chasing a spark that’s got no business burning…

The garage is a squat, cinderblock building, its lot littered with rusted parts and half-dead cars.

The air smells of grease and gasoline, and a radio blares some hard rock tune, nearly drowning out the clank of tools.

“And there he is…” I mutter, sizing up the joint and checking for trouble—call me over cautious, but when you’ve been a Wolf Rider forms long as me, it comes as part of the territory.

I spot Keegan before he sees me, bent over a bike’s engine, his faded T-shirt riding up to show a strip of lean muscle above his jeans.

His dark hair’s a mess, stuck to his neck with sweat, and his hands move with a confidence that says he knows his way around a machine.

The boy’s all sharp angles and restless energy, same as that night at The Ring, and my blood hums just looking at him.

I lean against a toolbox, crossing my arms, and wait.

The boy senses me a second later, his head snapping up, those green eyes locking on mine. For a beat, he freezes, then that smirk curls his lips, like he’s caught me at something…

“Well, well,” Keegan drawls, straightening, wiping his hands on a rag. “Didn’t peg you for a garage rat, old man .”

The jab’s deliberate, and it stings, but I don’t let it show. The boy wants a response, he wants to test me and see what I’m all about—but I’m not doing this on his terms.

This damned boy doesn’t know who he’s playing with…

“Watch your mouth, boy,” I say, voice low, stepping closer. The garage feels smaller with him in it, the air charged like a storm’s rolling in. “Heard you’re fixing bikes. Thought I’d see if you’re as good as you think you are.”

Keegan laughs, sharp and defiant, tossing the rag onto the bike.

“I’m better ,” Keegan says. “But you didn’t ride out here to check my work, did you?”

He tilts his head, sizing me up, and I see it again—that spark, wild and raw, daring me to take control.

I don’t answer right away.

Instead, I let my gaze roam over him, slow, deliberate, watching the way his jaw tightens, the way his breath hitches just enough to betray him. Keegan’s cocky, but he’s not immune to me, and that knowledge is a weapon I’m not above using.

“You’re wasting your time in this shithole,” I say finally, nodding at the garage. “You’ve got skills, maybe even guts. You can throw your fists too. That’s not nothing. But you’re aimless, young man. Stirring shit, picking fights. You need direction .”

Keegan’s smirk falters, just for a second, before he recovers.

“And what, you’re gonna give it to me?” Keegan snorts. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.” I step closer, close enough to smell the sweat and oil on him, close enough to see the pulse jump in his throat.

“You’re ex-military, discharged for being a hothead.

You’re back in Willow Creek with no plan, no purpose.

You’re looking for something to belong to, even if you won’t admit it. ”

I watch as Keegan’s eyes narrow, and I know I’ve hit a nerve.

“You been digging into me, Arch?” Keegan smirks. “That’s cute. Real stalker vibes.”

“Call it what you want,” I say, unfazed. “I see potential in you, boy. The Wolf Riders could use someone like you—fast, smart, fearless. But you’d need to learn to follow orders. To submit .”

The word hangs between us, heavy with intent, and I see the way it lands, the way Keegan’s pupils dilate just a fraction.

“Submit?” Keegan scoffs, but his voice is rougher now, like he’s fighting something. “I don’t do well with rules, Daddy . Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

That word again, thrown like a gauntlet.

My patience snaps, and before I think it through, I’ve got him backed against the garage wall, my hand fisted in his shirt, pinning him in place.

The boy’s lean but solid under my grip, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing with defiance and something hotter.

The air crackles, every nerve in me alive with the feel of him, the scent of him, the challenge of him.

“Keep pushing, boy,” I growl, my face inches from his, “Keep pushing and I’ll show you what happens when you don’t play nice.”

My other hand braces against the wall beside his head, caging him in, and I feel the shift—the way his body tenses, not to fight but to feel this, to test how far I’ll go.

Keegan doesn’t back down.

Instead, the boy leans into it, his breath warm against my jaw, his smirk sharper now.

“Maybe I want to see what you’ve got,” Keegan murmurs, low and taunting, and fuck if that doesn’t light me up like gasoline on a spark.

For a second, I’m close to losing it—close to closing the gap, crushing my mouth to his, wiping that smirk off his face with something rawer.

His lips are parted, his eyes locked on mine, and I can feel the heat rolling off him, the want that matches my own.

But I don’t.

Not yet.

The boy needs to earn it, and I need to keep my head on straight.

I tighten my grip on his shirt, just enough to make him gasp, then lean in, my voice a low rumble.

“You want in with the Wolf Riders, you play by my rules” I warn. “No fights, no mouthing off, no bullshit. You prove you can handle it, and maybe— maybe —I’ll let you ride with us.”

I let go, stepping back, and he sags against the wall, his chest rising and falling fast.

Keegan’s eyes are still on me, dark and hungry, but there’s something else now—uncertainty, like he’s weighing what I’m offering against his instinct to run.

“Why me?” Keegan asks, quieter now, the bravado dialed back. “You don’t even like me.”

I don’t answer right away.

Truth is, I don’t know if I like him or want to throttle him.

But I see something in him—a fire that could burn bright if it’s shaped, not snuffed out.

And yeah… I want him, body and soul. But that’s a complication I’m not ready to admit.

“Because you’ve got something,” I say finally. “Something worth saving. But you’re on a path to burn out, Keegan, and I don’t waste time on lost causes. The Wolf Riders are the best for a reason. We don’t carry passengers. We only ride with the real ones.”

The boy laughs, but it’s softer, almost bitter.

“You sound like my old CO,” Keegan says. “He thought he could fix me too. Tried to sell me on a heap of all together bullshit.”

“I’m not your CO,” I snap, stepping close again, my voice hard. “I’m not here to fix you. I’m offering you a chance to be part of something bigger. The Wolf Riders aren’t just a club—we’re family . But you step into our world, you need to know the stakes.”

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.