By the time Ace saw the headlights coming over the hill, it was already too late to pretend it was a coincidence.
Three black SUVs drove down the old dirt road toward the Vipers compound.No cartel markings. No visible weapons. But nobody drove that road unless they were invited—or had a death wish.Ashley stood beside Nolan by the doorway. “That is not Marco,” she said quietly. “He wouldn’t come unannounced twice.”Nolan’s jaw flexed. “Then who the hell is it?”The lead SUV stopped in front of the clubhouse. Out stepped Santiago Vega, the man Marco used to call his right hand—and his cleanup crew. Tall, sharp-dressed even in the dust, sleeves rolled to his forearms, a faint smirk cutting across his face like he already owned the place.Cole muttered, “Oh, this guy looks like trouble.”“He is,” Ashley said under her breath.Santi’s gaze swept the yard, counting the guards,The rain had finally stopped by morning.Ashley woke up to the sound of Ace breathing beside her. She just watched him for a few seconds—his calm face, the faint trace of a smile still there even in sleep. She didn’t know what last night meant, but it had felt real. And that was enough.She got out of bed carefully so she wouldn’t wake him and pulled on her hoodie. The floor was cold under her feet. As she walked down the hall, she heard voices from the kitchen—low and tense.Nolan’s voice came first.“…we are out of time. Delgado’s men are regrouping. I don’t care what intel says… we are not ready.”Ashley stopped halfway down the stairs.Jax snapped back, “We will never be ready if you keep second-guessing everything.”“I’m not second-guessing,” Nolan shot back. “I’m making sure we don’t die out there.”Cole’s voice joined in, rough and tired. “We are not the ones falling apart, Prez. You are.”No one said a wo
The rain hadn’t stopped all night. Ashley sat on the porch steps, hoodie sticking to her skin, hair damp on her neck. For once, she wasn’t thinking about Delgado or Alvarez or what came next. She just wanted to breathe.Inside, the clubhouse was quiet. Jax had disappeared into the garage with a bottle. Nolan was still bent over layouts, trying to plan a fight that wouldn’t play fair. Cole had passed out in a chair.Only Ace was awake.She saw his reflection in the window before he stepped outside—barefoot, shirt hanging open, that usual swagger softer now. For a moment, she almost told him to stay inside. She didn’t want him to see her this tired, soaked, and empty. But he came anyway. Ace never stayed where he was told.“Are you planning to drown out here?” he asked.Ashley didn’t look up. “Thinking about it.”He sat beside her on the steps. “Rough night?”“They all are lately.”
Ashley hadn’t slept. Ramirez’s words kept replaying in her head—You are standing in the middle of a storm, and you don’t even have a roof. She wasn’t sure if he was warning her… or marking her. By dawn, a truck screeched into the yard, tires spitting mud. Jax jumped down from the driver’s seat, his face set in a look that meant bad news and blood. “Got something,” he called, yanking open the back of the truck. Inside, bound to a chair with duct tape and rope, was a man Ashley didn’t recognize. Mid-forties, rough skin, broken nose. His shirt was soaked through with sweat, a cartel symbol half-torn off his sleeve. Cole hauled the man out, throwing him onto the floor. The man groaned, his lips split, one eye swollen shut. Nolan stepped out of the clubhouse, rubbing a hand across his jaw. “Who is he?” “Name is Rico,” Jax said. “Iron Fang runner. Caught him snooping near the fence around midnight. He tried to ditch a burner phone before we grabbed him.” Ashley crossed her arms. “So
The truck stop off Route 287 looked like trouble waiting to happen. The Vipers rode in quietly with no patches. Ashley parked beside Nolan’s Harley. The night felt heavy, the kind that made you stay on edge. A big cargo truck was parked nearby, its driver asleep behind fogged glass. A perfect cover trap. Cole got off his bike last, scanning the dark corners. “Doesn’t look like your kind of crowd,” he muttered. Ashley adjusted her gloves. “That is the idea.” Ace swung off his bike, stretching lazily. “Relax, rookie. If she says it is safe, it is safe.” Cole shot him a glare. “You don’t believe that.” Ace grinned. “Not a bit.” Nolan spoke sharply. “Eyes open. Jax, north side. Ace, back lot. Nobody moves till we know who we are meeting.” Ashley nodded and stepped forward. Her memories made her feel sick inside. She’d been in places like this before, when Delgado used to whisper in her ear where to go, who to trust, and who to leave behind. She pushed the thought away an
Rain had washed away most of the blood from the yard, but not the memory of it. Ashley stood by the window, staring at the wreckage beyond the fence. Delgado’s men were gone, but it didn’t feel like victory—just a short break before the next fight. Cole was outside, still limping but wearing his new patch with pride. Every time she looked at him, her chest tightened with pride, fear, and a pull she couldn’t shake off. She caught herself watching him too long—the way he adjusted his vest, the bloodstains that refused to wash off his hands. He caught her looking and gave her that boyish grin, like nothing could hurt him. It made her heart ache more than she cared to admit. She turned away quickly, pretending to study the layout. Nolan walked in slowly. His bandages were gone, replaced by a clean shirt, but the fever still hadn’t fully left his eyes. “You shouldn’t be up,” Ashley said, not looking at him. He ignored her. “We need information. Delgado wouldn’t send that many t
Cole wiped his hands on a rag and stared at the half-taken-apart rifle on the table. He’d fixed it three times already, but it still didn’t feel right. Jax’s voice from last night kept replaying in his head… “You keep trying to fix something, Cole. Maybe it is not the gun that is broken.” Cole had laughed then, but he hadn’t really slept since. Jax was gone before sunrise. Ace was out tracking Delgado’s men. Nolan was supposed to be resting, though everyone knew he was listening in from his room. And Ashley… she was the only one who still seemed steady. Every time Cole looked up, she was there, walking across the yard, When Barker came running from the gate, chest heaving, Cole already knew it wasn’t good. “Trucks are coming in!” Barker shouted, out of breath. “No plates, but moving fast!” Cole jumped up instantly. “How many?” “Three, maybe four.” Ace’s voice burst from the earpiece. “East side—move now!” Cole didn’t stop to think. He grabbed his vest, slung his rifle, and