007 First Blood

The desert night was pitch-black, the wind tugging at Ashley’s hair and grit scratching her cheeks. The bikes roared down the gravel road, their lights low and with growling engines.

Ashley clutched the duffel tighter against her side, knuckles aching. She’d thought the vote meant she belonged, at least for now. But the way Ace kept watching her, the way Rocco let his suspicion out—it was clear she was a coin tossed in the air, and no one yet knew how she would land.

Cole’s bike shifted closer, protective, and she caught the quick tilt of his head. Stay steady, his eyes seemed to say. She swallowed hard and nodded.

The desert stretched endless on both sides. The cold bit deep, but sweat still beaded her back. Every second, she expected headlights to appear at the ridge behind them.

It didn’t take long.

Jax’s hand went up. Engines rolled into a lower growl as the convoy slowed..Ashley’s stomach dropped as she glanced over her shoulder.

Lights. Multiple beams, weaving and swerving, eating up the road behind them.

“The Fangs,” Ace muttered, pulling his bike level with Nolan’s.

Ashley’s pulse spiked. “Already?”

“They want blood,” Nolan said. “Then we’ll give them a fight.”

Ashley wanted to tell them to run, get off the road, or hide but she saw the way the Vipers faces set hard. Running wasn’t in their bones. They weren’t prey. They were predators, and the Fangs had just walked into the wrong hunt.

The Vipers peeled off into formation. Engines revved, guns came free from saddlebags. Ashley’s breath came fast, shallow, her body strung tight between terror and disbelief.

Rocco snarled from a few bikes back, “Knew it! Told you the leak was in the house!”

“Shut it and ride,” Nolan barked.

Then the Fangs were on them.

Bullets sparked off the road. A Fang bike swerved alongside, chain whipping through the air. Ashley ducked with a startled cry as it cracked where her head had been seconds earlier.

Cole fired a burst from his pistol, sending the Fang spinning into the dust. “Stay down!” he shouted at her.

Her hands clutched at the bike's seat. Every instinct screamed to jump off, but she couldn’t. If she fell now, she’d be torn apart before her feet even hit the ground.

Engines roared, bodies collided. It was chaos. The convoy split across the road, each Viper taking on an attacker.

Ashley’s eyes locked on Jax.

He moved like he was born for this. Silent, lethal, and precise. Where Ace fought with wild aggression and Cole with reckless bravery, Jax was surgical. He rode low, eyes cold, every strike meant to end—not just disable.

It was like watching death itself weave through the fight. His blade glinted silver, and every time it flashed, someone went down. No wasted words. Just motion and blood.

She watched as a Fang tried to sideswipe him, swinging a crowbar. Jax swerved at the last instant, slid his knife free, and in a blur, slashed the man’s arm wide open. The Fang screamed, lost control, and the bike skidded hard into a ditch.

Ashley’s stomach twisted—but she couldn’t look away.

Another Fang came up on Jax’s other side. Gunshots cracked wildly. Jax leaned into the fire, let the shots whistle past, then rammed his bike shoulder-deep into the Fang’s, sending both machines shuddering. He cut across, jammed his boot down on the rival’s wheel, and the whole bike flipped end over end in a fiery sprawl.

It was brutal. And it was mesmerizing.

Ashley clutched the duffel tighter, her breath ragged. She’d seen men fight before—but never like this. There was no hesitation in Jax, no wasted movement. Just cold, efficient violence.

The clash spilled across the road. Ace whooped as he kicked a Fang off his bike, the body crumpling under spinning wheels. Rocco’s shotgun thundered. Nolan rode at the center, steady, commanding, cutting down any Fang that got too close.

Ashley ducked low. The night stank of gasoline, blood, and gunpowder.

A Fang broke through the line and lunged straight for her. His face was a twisted snarl, his knife flashing.

Ashley froze.

Then Jax was there.

He cut across her path, slammed his bike into the attacker’s, and in one brutal motion, drove his blade straight through the man’s throat. Blood sprayed dark in the moonlight. The Fang toppled limp, his bike veering wild before skidding into the rocks.

Ashley’s heart stopped. Her ears rang.

Jax didn’t look at her. He just wiped the blade on his jeans, slid it back into its sheath, and rolled on, hunting the next.

The sight seared into her mind.

The raid stretched only minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. Finally, the Fangs broke. Those still alive peeled off, their bikes vanishing into the desert with sounds of defeat.

The Vipers regrouped, engines idling low, the desert suddenly eerily quiet again. Bodies and twisted bikes littered the road behind them. 

Nolan scanned the field, chest heaving, but his voice was steady. “Check your wounds. Gather what we can. We don’t linger.”

Ace spat dust, grinning like a madman. “That is one way to stretch our legs.”

Cole’s face was pale under the dirt, his eyes darting to Ashley. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, still trembling. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

It was Jax who drew her gaze again. He sat astride his bike a little apart from the others, expression unreadable, eyes black as stone in the moonlight. His hands were steady, like killing hadn’t cost him anything at all.

Ashley shivered. Was it fear or awe?

Jax looked at her for a second. An acknowledgment that she’d seen him as he was.

Ashley dropped her gaze, her heart racing fast.

She just realized survival with the Vipers wasn’t just about riding fast or keeping secrets. It was about blood. Their blood. Her blood. Theirs spilled to protect her, hers now tied to them by a bond she couldn’t escape.

And God help her—something in her wanted to see Jax fight again.