Page 33 of Tank

Headlights flare behind us, and I glance back to see Clay, Arch, Kash, Keegan, Nico, and the rest of the pack catching up, their bikes a thundering pack.

Clay’s at the front, his grizzled face lit with a rare grin, Arch’s hair whipping in the wind, Kash’s lean frame hunched over his ride like a predator stalking its prey.

The Wolf Riders are a force, unstoppable, our engines a war cry that echoes across the desert.

The town’s ours—every street, every bar, every shadow belongs to us.

I feel it in my bones, the power, the loyalty, the family I’ve found.

We race through the empty streets, the neon lights of bars and motels blurring past, our bikes a blur of chrome and leather.

Tank glances at me, his eyes glinting with pride, and I grin back, my heart full.

The Fury is gone, done. My father’s hate already a fading memory.

I’m a Wolf now, Tank’s boy, and nothing can touch us.

We ride into the night, together, unstoppable, the desert ours to claim…