Page 9 of Arch (Wolf Rider MC Daddies #3)

Arch

It all comes down to this.

This could be the last night the Wolf Riders exist if things go badly wrong. But it’s my job to make sure that doesn’t happen—and I’m all fucking there for the challenge…

Keegan’s behind me, his hands tight on my waist, his presence a steady fire against my back.

The kid’s reckless, still raw from his close call last night, but he’s here with me, and that’s enough to make my chest ache with something I’m not ready to name yet. Not out loud, anyway.

Clay rides to my left, Jace to my right, their faces grim under the moonlight.

Tank, Jinx, and a half-dozen others form a tight pack behind us, their bikes a low rumble that shakes the asphalt.

Keegan’s intel—Rico meeting their supplier tonight, the talk of a rat in our ranks—has us moving fast, no time for hesitation.

The Vipers have been pushing too hard, too long, and tonight we end it. We end them .

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 word Daddy hits 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…

Footsteps echo, heavy boots, too many for just Rico and Jinx. I signal Clay and Jace, and we shift, taking cover behind a stack of crates. The Vipers pour in—ten, maybe twelve, armed to the teeth, their supplier nowhere in sight.

Rico’s at the center, barking orders, and Jinx is there under the dim lights, his face pale but set.

“Now,” I growl, and we move.

The warehouse erupts in a blaze of gunfire, shouting, and bloodshed.

Clay’s first shot takes out a Viper’s knee, and Jace’s knife finds another’s shoulder before he can raise his gun.

I’m on Rico, tackling him to the ground, my fist slamming into his face before he can scream.

Keegan’s a blur beside me, his training kicking in as he disarms a Viper with a swift kick and a wrench he must’ve grabbed from the floor.

The kid’s fast, fearless, but he’s too exposed, and my heart lurches when a Viper swings a chain at him.

“Keegan!” I roar, shoving Rico into a crate and diving for the guy with the chain.

I take him down hard, my elbow cracking his jaw, but another Viper’s on me, a blade flashing.

I twist, the knife grazing my arm, and Keegan’s there, slamming the wrench into the guy’s wrist, sending the blade clattering.

We’re back-to-back now, moving like we’ve done this a hundred times, and despite the chaos, I feel a surge of pride.

He’s holding his own, my boy… in fact, he’s more than holding his own. Keegan’s fighting like a true Wolf Rider.

“Jinx!” Clay’s voice cuts through the gunfire, raw with betrayal.

I glance over, seeing Clay pin Jinx against a wall, his gun pressed to the kid’s chest.

Jinx’s eyes are wide, pleading, but there’s no undoing what he’s done.

“Why?” Clay snarls, and Jinx mumbles something about money, about debts, but I don’t hear the rest.

A Viper charges me, and I’m back in the fight, my focus razor-sharp.

The battle’s brutal, the warehouse a storm of fists, blades, and bullets.

Tank barrels in from outside, his pistol barking, and the Vipers start to break.

Keegan’s still with me, his breath ragged but his eyes fierce, and I keep him close, shielding him when a stray shot pings too near.

We’re outnumbered, but we’re Wolves, and we don’t go down easy.

I spot Rico crawling for a gun, and I’m on him, my boot on his wrist, my own gun at his temple.

“Call them off,” I growl. “Now.”

Rico spits blood, but he shouts, and the Vipers hesitate, their numbers dwindling.

Clay’s got Jinx zip-tied, and Jace is mopping up the stragglers with Tank. Keegan’s panting beside me, blood on his knuckles, a cut on his cheek, but he’s alive, and that’s all that matters.

The Vipers are done—most dead or down, a few scattering into the night.

The warehouse is ours, the fight won, but the cost is heavy… Jinx’s betrayal is a wound that will scar us all.

“Get him to the van,” I tell Clay, nodding at Jinx. “We’ll deal with him later.”

Clay nods, his face hard, and drags Jinx out.

I turn to Keegan, checking him over, my hands on his shoulders, his face, making sure he’s whole.

“You good, boy?” I ask, my voice rough with relief.

Keegan nods, his smirk faint but there.

“Told you I could handle it, Daddy,” the boy says, his smile winning me over in an instant.

I want to kiss him, to crush him against me, but there’s no time.

We secure the warehouse, grab the manifests Keegan photographed, and torch what’s left to send a message.

The Vipers are finished, their operation gutted, their supplier’s link severed.

But Jinx’s face—his guilt, his excuses—burns in my mind, a reminder that even family can break you…

Back at the clubhouse, the air’s thick with exhaustion and victory.

The boys are battered—Tank’s got a busted lip, Jace a gash on his arm, and I’m sporting a cut that’ll need stitches.

Keegan’s quiet, leaning against the bar, his eyes on me as I pour whiskey for the crew.

Clay and Jace are debriefing, Dylan and Caleb hovering close, their worry easing as they see their Daddies are whole.

Jinx is locked in the back room, awaiting judgment, and the weight of his betrayal sits heavy on us all. But we have time on our side, we don’t need to act rashly.

I hand Keegan a glass, my fingers brushing his, and the spark between us flares, even now.

“You did good tonight,” I say, low enough for just him to hear. “Reckless, but good.”

The boy grins, tired but real.

“Had to keep up with you, old man,” Keegan laughs, shooting a look to Caleb and Dylan. “Guys, I told you I can say what I like to him!”

I chuckle, but it fades as I look at him, really look.

The kid’s changed me, cracked something open I thought I’d locked away years ago. I’ve spent my life outsmarting traps, keeping the club alive, but Keegan’s different…

He’s not a trap I want to escape.

He’s home, and the thought of losing him tonight—fuck, it nearly broke me.

“Keegan,” I say, my voice rough, stepping closer, the clubhouse fading around us. “I need to tell you something.”

Keegan tilts his head, those green eyes searching mine, and I see it—the trust, the want, the same fire that’s burning me up.

“What’s up, Daddy?” he asks, soft, no taunt this time.

I take a breath, my hand finding his, grounding me.

“I’ve never felt this way,” I say, the words heavy, true. “Not in all my forty-three years on this damned planet, not with anyone. You’re under my skin, boy, and I don’t want you out. I love you, Keegan. Not just as my boy, but as my partner, my equal. You’re it for me.”

I watch as his eyes widen, his breath catching, and for a second, I think he’ll bolt, that wild streak taking over…

But then Keegan steps closer, his hand tightening in mine, and he smiles, soft and real.

“Took you long enough to say it,” Keegan murmurs. “I love you too, Arch. I know it might sound crazy, but I always have, I think.”

I pull him into me, my lips finding his, and this kiss is different—slow, deep, a promise we’re both making.

The clubhouse noise fades, and it’s just us, his body warm against mine, his hands fisting my jacket like he’s anchoring himself to me.

I hold him tight, my heart full in a way I never thought possible, and when we pull back, his eyes are shining, that smirk softened into something new.

We’re still standing there, foreheads pressed together, when Clay’s voice breaks through.

“Well, damn, Arch,” Clay says, grinning wide, his arm around Dylan. “Welcome to the Happy Daddies Club, Arch my old buddy. Took you long enough.”

Jace laughs, Caleb tucked against his side.

“Yeah, you’re one of us now, brother,” Jace bellows. “No escaping it.”

Keegan laughs, pulling back just enough to look at them, his grin sharp and playful.

“So, what, if I step out of line, all three of you gonna spank me now?” Keegan asks, his cheeks blushing furiously.

The room erupts in laughter, Dylan and Caleb chuckling, Clay shaking his head.

I pull Keegan closer, my arm around his waist, and growl, “No way, boy. You’re mine, forever. No one else gets to touch you.”

Keegan laughs, leaning into me, and I feel the weight of the night lift, just a little.

Clay hands out whiskeys, and we raise our glasses, the five of us—Clay, Jace, Dylan, Caleb, and me with Keegan—standing together, battered but whole.

“To the Wolf Riders. To family,” I say, my voice steady, my eyes on Keegan. “To love.”

“To love,” Keegan echoes, his glass clinking mine, his eyes locked on me like I’m his world.

We drink, the whiskey burning, but it’s nothing compared to the fire in my chest.

The Vipers are gone, Jinx’s betrayal a wound we’ll heal from, but Keegan… he’s my future, my partner, my boy.

And as we stand there, surrounded by our brothers, I know we’re in this for the long haul, come what may.

But being a Wolf Rider, there’s always something else just around the corner…