All Chapters of Steel and Sin: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The rain hadn’t stopped in three days. The Vipers rode through it. Ahead, a warehouse sat on the edge of an old yard. Once neutral ground, owned by the Cobras before they folded. Now it was the only place big enough, and dangerous enough for what Ashley had planned. Cole killed the engine first. “You sure about this, Prez?” Nolan didn’t answer at once. He was staring at the rows of bikes outside… different patches, colors, histories. Some are friendly. Most not. “Doesn’t matter if I’m sure,” he said finally. “She already made the call.” Inside, smoke and heat rolled off bodies and bad tempers. The air smelled of whiskey. Men checked weapons, adjusted vests, murmured warnings to each other. It wasn’t just a meeting… it was a test of who had the guts to stand in the same room. Every club that hadn’t gone ghost since Alvarez’s expansion had sent someone. The Ghost riders, the red wolves, even two from out east who had worked with Delgado before he turned. They weren’t here for peace

No one had slept. It was almost dawn, but inside the safehouse, the Vipers sat in silence except for the sound coming from Ace’s laptop as it ran another scan on the files.Jax leaned against the wall, watching Cole wrap his bandaged knuckles again.“Stop tightening it,” Jax said.“I’m fine.”“Yeah? You keep saying that long enough, maybe you will believe it.”Cole shot him a glare, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He was still too young to hide it — that mix of adrenaline, pride, and fear. He’d fought well in Santa Fe, no question, but the look in his eyes said he hadn’t stopped replaying the chaos since they escaped.Jax picked up a wrench and spun it lazily. “You freeze out there?”“No.”“Good. Because if you did, I’d lie and say I didn’t see it.”Cole snorted. “You think I froze?”“I think you hesitated,” Jax said. “Big difference. Hesitation means you still care who dies. Freezing means you don’t know what to do next.” He set the wrench down. “Don’t lose the first one. Just

Detective Ramirez hated early mornings. He hated bikers and cartels even more.Rain ran down the station windows. The city smelled like failure to Ramirez. Every report on his desk said the same thing: the cartel was winning, and the bikers kept slipping away.He crushed his cigarette into a half-full coffee cup, then opened the folder labeled COLE MASON — VIPERS. You hit a gang by cutting off its head, sure — but if you want real results, you start at the heart.The heart was family.Two hours later a black sedan stopped outside a worn duplex in the industrial zone. Ramirez stepped out, collar up—the kind of man who made neighbors close curtains without being asked.A woman answered before he knocked. Late thirties, tired eyes, gripping the doorframe like she’d been holding her breath.“Mrs. Mason?” he asked, showing his badge.She nodded. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”Ramirez smiled faintly. “That is not for me to decide.”He stepped past her before she could stop him.The apartme

The ride back felt endless. Every mile between the desert and the safe house felt stolen. Ashley's head buzzed with smoke and adrenaline. Ace didn’t say much—just kept the throttle steady, jaw tight, eyes locked on the road. The desert wind bit at her face through her cracked helmet. She looked back once, watching the highway swallow the smoke. When they finally rolled into the Hounds outpost, engines echoed off rusted metal and gravel. The place was half garage, half fortress—but buzzing with life. Men moved under floodlights, tattoos flashing in the glow. They froze when they saw the two of them pull in, bloodied and smoke-stained. Dogs barked in the distance. A dozen armed men stood by the fence, watching. The Hounds weren’t known for being friendly… but tonight, curiosity replaced hostility. A sharp whistle cut through the noise. “Well, I will be damned,” someone said. “The girl and the golden boy.” Hawk stepped from the shadows with a beer in hand. The old bastard hadn

They were already burning for revenge before a single shot was fired.Dawn dragged itself over the safehouse as the Vipers rode out. The safehouse gates closed behind them with a dull thud, the compound shrinking into the dust. Nolan rode up front while Ace and Jax rode behind. Ace’s hands were tight on the bars; Jax looked ready to kill. Ashley sat between them on Cole’s bike, gear strapped down. The weight of the last few weeks pressed on her chest like a scar, but she’d learned to move with it.Torque’s outpost sat on a ridge two counties north—old service buildings, rusted sheds, and a row of diesel tanks.The Reapers had marked it with their colors and trash. Once, Torque had been one of theirs — respected, trusted. Now he’d sold out to Delgado and left Viper blood in the dirt.Tonight, that debt was getting paid.As they reached the ridge, Nolan’s voice came low in her earpiece.“We take the west shed first. Ace, jam the comms. Jax, you and Cole cover the high side. Ashley, you