The Ride

Chapter 11: The Ride

Sam’s POV

I bent over to tie the laces of my boots, my hands steady even though my mind was a whirlwind. Every pull of the shoelace felt like I was tightening a noose around my neck. Eli stood across the room, arms folded, watching me with that knowing look. His silence weighed heavier than his words ever could.

“You need to be careful, Sam,” he finally said, his tone low and edged with warning.

I straightened up, slipping on my jacket, and forced a smile. “I know. But I can’t figure out why Teddy wants me with the group. Why me, of all people? Why send me to bring back those men?”

Eli shook his head, almost amused but more worried. “You really don’t get it, do you? Teddy is testing you. This isn’t just about drugs or those men who ran off—it’s about you proving yourself. You’ve got the falcon pin now, and whether you like it or not, that changes everything.”

I glanced at the small pin resting on my chest pocket earlier when I dressed. A single piece of metal, yet it carried the weight of loyalty, blood, and expectations. “I didn’t ask for the pin,” I muttered, almost to myself.

“It doesn’t matter,” Eli said sharply. He stepped closer, his eyes boring into mine. “What matters is that you wear it. And now you’ll be seen differently. But don’t fool yourself,Delilah will stop at nothing to clip your wings. She’s been waiting for this, and she’ll take her shot no matter what.”

His words sank into me, heavy and cold. I reached for the door, pausing only when Eli clapped me on the back. “Good luck, brother,” he said. It wasn’t encouragement,it was a reminder that I’d need more than luck tonight.

I stepped into the hallway and left the comfort of Eli’s concern behind. The air outside was sharp, cutting through the nerves building in my gut. The cars were waiting, engines humming low like beasts ready to hunt.

Gaston was leaning against the hood of one of the black sedans, his scowl etched deep into his face like a permanent scar. His eyes flicked to me, narrowing with something between irritation and resentment.

Delilah stood nearby, perfectly composed as always, her expression unreadable except for the slight curve of disdain at the corner of her lips. The way she looked at me was the same way someone might look at dirt on their shoe,something they tolerated but never respected.

As I approached, Gaston’s lips curled, but Delilah’s voice cut through the tension before he could speak. “Sam rides in the booth.”

The words hit like a slap. The booth,cramped, isolated, and meant for outsiders, not for men of rank. It was a deliberate insult, one she wanted everyone to see.

Before I could respond, Max spoke up from the other side of the car. He stepped forward, calm but firm. “No. Since Sam is part of the hierarchy now, he’s treated right. He doesn’t ride in the booth.”

Delilah’s head snapped toward him, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits. “And what exactly do you mean by that, Max?” she asked, her voice sugar-coated but dripping venom underneath.

Max didn’t flinch. He gave a half-smile, the kind that dared anyone to challenge him. “I mean Teddy gave Sam a falcon pin. You know what that means. He’s not just another soldier anymore.”

The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. Delilah froze for half a second, and though her face betrayed nothing, I caught the faintest flicker of shock in her eyes. A falcon pin wasn’t handed out lightly, and she knew it.

Her jaw tightened, and without another word, she turned on her heel and slid into the car. “We’ll deal with this when we’re back,” she said coolly, dismissing everyone in that one sharp sentence.

The others shuffled, some exchanging glances, others pretending not to notice the tension. Gaston muttered something under his breath, but he followed Delilah into the car.

Max gave me a look, one eyebrow raised, as if to say, See what you’ve walked into?

I exhaled slowly, pushing down the storm of emotions threatening to break through. The falcon pin burned against my chest like a brand, and I knew Eli was right,this wasn’t about the mission. This was about survival.

And for the first time since all this started, I realized the wolves weren’t the ones we were hunting. They were already in the car, sitting right beside me.

The car rolled to a stop a few blocks away from the warehouse, the engine humming low as the tinted windows reflected the streetlamps. My palms rested against my knees, calm on the outside but restless underneath.

Max turned in his seat, his voice measured. “We’re not going in. Our men have already surrounded the building. They’ll handle the retrieval. We wait, watch, then we head back with the shipment.”

I nodded, relief and disappointment mixing in my chest. Part of me wanted to prove myself, the other part wondered if Teddy had set me up for failure.

Delilah let out a sharp scoff from beside me, tossing her hair back with deliberate disdain. “So that’s it? We just sit here like cowards while everyone else does the real work?” Her eyes flicked to me, narrowing. “I can’t believe I had to ride in the same car with this nobody. What a waste of time.”

Her words cut sharper than she knew, but I kept my gaze forward. No reaction,that was the only way to deal with someone like her. She fed on weakness, on cracks in the armor.

Gaston grunted from the driver’s seat, adjusting his grip on the wheel. “Orders are orders,” he said flatly.

Delilah crossed her arms, muttering something under her breath about incompetence. The air in the car grew tense, her hostility pressing against my skin like heat.

I shifted slightly, looking out the window at the faint silhouettes of our men moving in the distance. The outline of the warehouse loomed against the night sky, broken windows like hollow eyes staring back at us. Somewhere inside, crates of drugs,our lifeline and our curse,were being pulled out, piece by piece.

Max caught my glance and gave me a small nod, a silent reassurance. He believed in me, even if no one else in this car did.

Delilah leaned forward suddenly, her tone sharp. “You really think you belong here, Sam? You think a little pin makes you one of us?”

I didn’t answer. The falcon pin on my chest felt heavier than usual, like it was burning through the fabric. I hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t even wanted it, yet it marked me as something I wasn’t sure I was ready to be.

The minutes dragged by, punctuated by faint shouts and the occasional thud from inside the warehouse. Finally, a group of men emerged, hauling crates toward the waiting vans. The operation was almost too smooth, too silent—it felt wrong.

Max exhaled. “Looks like it’s done.”

Delilah sneered again, her lips curling. “Of course it is. And yet, we’re stuck babysitting dead weight.”

Her words bounced off me this time. I’d learned something tonight: silence was my shield. They could doubt me, despise me, but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of breaking.

As the vans pulled away, Gaston started the car. The job was done, but the tension in the car lingered like smoke. And though I didn’t show it, a part of me knew this was only the beginning.