Page 31 of Claimed By the Bikers (Black Wolves MC #4)

GARRETT

I kick down the office door, sweeping for threats. Three cartel members lie dead in the main warehouse behind me, their blood mixing with spilled medical supplies. Gunfire still echoes from the loading dock where Atlas and Silas are pinned down.

Ember stands over a fourth body, letter opener buried in his neck, blood coating her hands and face. Her chest heaves as she stares down at what she’s done.

“You hurt?” I ask, moving into the small space.

“No. He tried to—”

Muzzle flashes explode from the shattered window frame. Two bullets punch into my chest and shoulder, spinning me sideways into the metal desk. Pain explodes through my torso as I crash to the concrete floor.

“Garrett!” Ember’s voice cuts through the ringing in my ears.

I’m on the office floor, shirt already soaked with blood, watching her drop to her knees beside me. Her hands immediately find the wounds, applying pressure.

“How bad?” she asks, stripping off her jacket to use as a compress.

“Been worse.” The words come out wet, probably not reassuring. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. You took the bullets meant for me.”

“Good. That’s good.”

Through the office windows, I can see Atlas and Silas moving through the warehouse, hunting down the remaining cartel members with lethal efficiency. Muzzle flashes strobe in the darkness between equipment racks, followed by screams that cut off abruptly.

“Stay still,” Ember orders, her hands slick with my blood as she works to slow the bleeding. “The shoulder’s not too bad, but the chest shot’s deep.”

“Missed the heart or I’d be dead already.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

But we both know chest wounds are tricky. I’ve seen good men die from smaller holes than the one leaking my life onto the concrete.

“Silas!” Ember shouts toward the warehouse. “I need medical supplies! Now!”

His voice echoes back from somewhere near the loading dock. “Thirty seconds!”

The gunfire’s sporadic now, single shots instead of sustained firefights. Atlas and Silas are cleaning up the stragglers, making sure none of them escape to report back to their bosses.

“Pressure here,” I tell Ember, guiding her hands to the worst spot. “Like that. Don’t let up.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Aye, you do. FBI training comes in handy.”

“Military training would be more useful right now.”

“Good thing you’ve got me to teach you.”

She manages a weak smile at that, but her face is pale with worry. Blood loss makes everything seem distant, like watching through glass, but I can see her fighting to keep me conscious.

Silas appears in the doorway with a medical kit from the warehouse supplies. His face is grim as he takes in the scene—me bleeding on the floor, Ember covered in blood, the dead cartel member cooling beside us.

“Those bastards.” He winces, dropping beside us and opening the kit.

He cuts away my shirt, exposing the wounds for proper assessment.

“Exit wound on the shoulder’s clean,” he reports. “Chest shot’s messier, but it missed the major vessels.”

“Lung?”

“Doesn’t look like it. You’re breathing fine, no pink froth.” He starts packing the wounds with gauze. “You’ll live, but we need to get you proper medical attention.”

“Hospital?”

“Doc Morrison. He’ll handle it quietly.”

The warehouse has gone silent except for our voices and the distant sound of engines starting up.

Atlas appears, still holding his rifle. “What’s his status?”

“He’ll live,” Silas says, wrapping pressure bandages around my chest. “But he needs stitches and blood replacement.”

“Can he travel?”

“Short distance, if we’re careful.”

Atlas keys his radio. “Jake, we need a cleanup at Mountain View. Multiple bodies, and some structural damage. Bring a full crew.”

“Copy that. ETA twenty minutes.”

“What about the beneficiaries?” Ember asks, finally letting someone else handle my wounds while she wipes blood from her hands.

“They all took off.” Atlas moves to the window, checking the perimeter. “We’ll need to move the high-value items to secure storage.”

“How did they find this place?” Silas’s voice carries an edge I recognize. He’s thinking the same thing I am.

“Good question. This location’s been secure for three years. Nobody outside our inner circle knows it exists.”

“Somebody talked.” I push myself up against the wall despite Silas’s protests. “Question is who.”

“We told Finn where we were headed,” Ember says quietly.

“Could be a coincidence,” Atlas says, but his tone suggests he doesn’t believe it.

“Could be. Or could it be our head cook’s been passing information to Los Serpientes for God knows how long.” Silas finishes securing my bandages. “Only one way to find out.”

The ride back to Wolf Pike feels eternal, every bump in the road sending fresh waves of pain through my chest. Ember rides in the back with me, monitoring my condition, while Atlas drives and Silas coordinates cleanup through his radio.

By the time we reach the compound, my shirt’s soaked through again despite the pressure dressings. The blood loss makes me dizzy, but anger keeps me conscious. If Finn betrayed us, if he put Ember and our unborn child at risk for cartel money, I want to be awake when we have that conversation.

The restaurant parking lot looks normal, peaceful even. No signs of violence or disturbance, just the quiet mountain evening settling over our home.

But when we enter through the back door, Finn’s reaction tells us everything we need to know.

He’s cleaning the grill when we walk in, humming some country song under his breath. When he sees us—me bleeding, Ember covered in blood, Atlas and Silas armed and grim—his face goes through a series of expressions too fast to catalog.

Surprise. Concern. Fear. Guilt.

“Jesus, what happened?” he asks, moving toward us with what looks like genuine worry. “Garrett, you’re hurt. Should I call—”

“Don’t.” Silas’s voice stops him mid-sentence. “Don’t say another word.”

“I don’t understand—”

“The Mountain View facility was attacked an hour after we left.” Silas steps closer, and Finn backs against the grill. “Funny thing is, you’re the only person we told about our destination.”

“You think I—” Finn’s voice cracks. “You think I called the cartel?”

“Did you?”

“No! I would never—”

Silas moves faster than a striking snake, grabbing Finn by the throat and slamming him against the wall. The impact rattles pots and pans, and Finn’s feet leave the floor.

“Three years I’ve worked for you!” Finn gasps. “Three years of loyal service, and you think I’d betray you for what? Money?”

“Money’s a powerful motivator,” Atlas says, moving to block the kitchen exits. “Especially when someone’s threatened your family.”

“My family’s fine—”

“Los Serpientes are real fond of leverage.” Silas tightens his grip. “Real fond of making people choose between their employers and their loved ones.”

Finn’s struggle weakens. “They have my sister,” he whispers.

There it is.

“Since when?” Atlas asks.

“It’s been two weeks. They grabbed her coming home from work, said they’d kill her if I didn’t cooperate.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Nothing at first. Just that you ran some kind of supply business. But they kept pushing, and threatening…” Tears stream down Finn’s face. “They said they’d do things to her if I didn’t provide better information.”

“So you gave us up.”

“She’s seventeen, Atlas. Just a kid trying to finish high school.”

“And today?”

“They called this morning, wanted to know if you were planning any trips. I heard you tell me about Mountain View, so…”

“So you sent us into an ambush.”

“I thought you could handle it. You’re always armed, always ready for trouble. I never thought they’d actually hurt you.”

Silas releases him, and Finn collapses to his knees on the kitchen floor. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I never wanted anyone to get hurt.”

“But someone did get hurt.” I push away from the wall where I’ve been leaning, ignoring the fresh pain in my chest. “I took two bullets because of your information.”

“Garrett—”

“And Ember could have died. Our unborn child could have died. All because you decided our lives were worth less than your sister’s.”

“It wasn’t like that—”

“It was exactly like that.” Atlas moves to stand over him. “You made a choice, Finn. You chose your family over ours.”

“What would you have done?” Finn looks up at us with desperate eyes. “If it were someone you loved, what would you have done?”

The question lands harder than I want to admit. Because the truth is, I’d do the same—any of us would. Betray anyone if it meant keeping Ember and our child safe.

But knowing that doesn’t make it easier to forgive.

“We’ll continue this conversation in the basement,” Silas says, hauling Finn to his feet.

“Please—”

“Move.”

Silas marches him toward the basement stairs, and I watch them disappear into the darkness below. Part of me wants to follow, to be there when we get the full story of his betrayal. But the blood loss is catching up to me, and I need medical attention before I pass out.

“Where’s the doctor?” I ask Atlas.

“He’s on his way. Should be here in twenty minutes.”

“Good. Because I’m about done standing upright.”

Ember appears at my side, steadying me with gentle hands. “Come on. Let’s get you somewhere you can lie down properly.”

As she guides me to the door, I can hear Silas’s voice echoing from the basement.

“Will you kill him?” Ember asks once we’re back at the house, as we climb slowly toward our bedroom.

“Don’t know yet. Depends on what else he tells us.”

“He was trying to protect his sister.”

“I know. Doesn’t make it right, but I understand it.”

“What would you do? If someone took me, threatened our baby?”

I stop on the stairs, meeting her eyes despite the pain and exhaustion. “I’d burn down the world to get you back. And I’d betray anyone, including Atlas and Silas, if that’s what it took.”

“Even though you know it’s wrong?”

“Love makes you do terrible things, lass. That’s why it’s so dangerous.”

She helps me the rest of the way to our bedroom, where I collapse onto the mattress and finally let the pain take over. Doc Morrison will fix the holes in my chest, and Silas will get the truth from Finn in the basement.

But the damage is done. Our security’s compromised, our location’s blown, and somewhere in the mountains, Los Serpientes are planning their next move.

At least Ember’s alive. At least our child is safe.

For now.

That has to be enough.