Chapter 21
DRIFT
The night wrapped around the old office park. A strip of security lights buzzed overhead, throwing a weak glow across cracked pavement and tufts of grass that had pushed through the asphalt. In the shadows, the Redline Kings waited.
I crouched beside Jax behind a low concrete barrier, my knees bent and my boots silent against the gravel.
Kane was ten yards ahead, hidden in the shadow of a column.
Edge and Axle flanked the north side, their dark shapes cutting clean lines against the faint light.
The rest of the crew was scattered around.
Every man had eyes locked on the same target—the squat, blackened-window office building sitting like a tomb at the edge of the lot.
The only sounds were the hum of the server racks inside and the faint click of Jax’s tablet as his fingers moved over the glass.
Blue light washed over his face, catching on the glint of his glasses.
I watched his reflection on the screen—his jaw tight and eyes narrow as his mind ran a hundred miles ahead of the rest of us.
A faint static crackled in my earpiece.
“Motion sensors disabled,” Jax muttered. “Outer alarms too. We’re dark.”
Kane gave a short nod, voice low enough that it barely carried. “Hold until visual confirmation. No noise. No movement.”
We waited.
Then headlights broke the stillness.
A black sedan rolled in, slow and cautious.
It stopped near the front entrance. Ethan stepped out first, with the same nervous energy he’d worn on every surveillance feed.
Another guy followed, this one taller, wiry, and with a courier case clutched in one hand.
The faint click of metal when he moved told me it wasn’t empty.
They shuffled toward the door and pressed something into a keypad. It flashed red, then green.
Jax smirked without looking up. “Gotcha, motherfuckers.”
Kane’s gaze flicked to him. “That the key uplink?”
“Yeah.” Jax’s voice was calm, but his fingers were quick.
“Remember that key-icon app Alanna mentioned? Yellow on black? That’s their access node.
It hides an encryption tunnel to the broker’s relay.
I piggybacked on it through Ethan’s cloud backup.
When he logs in, I’ll see every handshake the hub makes. ”
Kane’s mouth curved in that dangerous, approving way of his.
The men disappeared inside. Through Jax’s feed, the interior cameras blinked on—grainy night vision showing them setting up equipment on a desk, the courier case now open.
Inside was a compact uplink server, cables snaking out to a phone mounted on a cradle.
The yellow key icon glowed faintly on its screen.
“Transfer’s initializing,” Jax whispered. “They’re connecting to the broker hub.”
There was silence for a beat, then he whispered, “Uplink confirmed.”
Kane gave a sharp hand signal. “Move.”
We broke from cover as one.
Boots hit pavement in a smooth, practiced rhythm. The outer door opened at Jax’s override, and the five of us slipped inside while the others stayed to watch our backs. Somewhere deeper in the building, the uplink fan spun faster, whirring like an insect trapped in a jar.
Kane moved first, pistol in hand and ready to fire as he scanned corners. Edge moved stealthily behind him, blade ready and eyes glinting. Axle and I covered the rear while Jax tracked the uplink feed on his tablet.
A shadow crossed the hallway—one of the guards, phone to his ear. He didn’t finish the call. Kane grabbed him by the collar, slammed him into the wall, and dropped him silently.
Another guard rounded the corner, gun half raised. Edge stepped from the dark like smoke, blade flashing. One clean sweep, and the man’s body hit the floor.
Jax murmured, “Server link’s live. They’re mid-upload.”
Kane turned his head slightly. “Cut it.”
“Already on it.” Jax’s thumbs flew, lines of code spilling across his screen. “Key uplink looped to our relay… and—done. Broker hub’s blind.”
Kane’s expression didn’t change as he ordered, “Erase the source.”
We advanced.
The first burst of gunfire shattered the silence—short, suppressed pops echoing down the corridor. The courier tried to run. Axle raised his pistol, and with one clean shot, the man went down, knees buckling before he hit the floor. The case slid across the tiles, cables ripping free.
The room exploded in chaos. Shouts, another round of muffled shots, and the thud of fists hitting flesh. The Kings moved through it naturally, efficient and cold. Every angle covered, every threat neutralized. Not a single wasted motion.
I scanned the mess, searching for one face.
Fuck! Ethan wasn’t there.
Then movement caught at the edge of my vision—a back hallway door swinging and a body racing up the stairs. I broke from the group and followed whoever thought they’d escaped our wrath.
My boots hammered against the linoleum, then up the narrow stairwell that reeked of dust.
“Drift,” Kane’s voice crackled in my ear, low and calm. “Edge’s got a clear view. That’s him. We’ll sweep the lower floor.”
“Copy,” I replied, my breath even despite my racing heart as I climbed fast.
On the second landing, a door slammed. A beat later, I shoved it back open. The overhead lights flickered weakly across rows of metal shelves stacked with outdated hardware and dusty office equipment. Ethan stood at the far end, a gun trembling in his hand.
“Don’t!” he shouted, his voice breaking. “Stay the hell back!”
He shook so badly he could barely keep the barrel aimed. I kept moving, step by step, prowling toward my prey, until the muzzle was pointed straight at my chest. His finger wasn’t even on the trigger.
I caught his wrist before he realized his mistake, twisted it sharply, and the gun clattered to the floor. He stumbled back into a rack of metal shelving, causing boxes to topple, scattering papers and old cords across the concrete.
Quickly, I bent and snatched the weapon from the ground, shoving it into the waistband of my jeans.
“Talk,” I ordered.
“I didn’t know!” he babbled, voice high and panicked. “She was a pawn, that’s all they said! They told me she was the weak link, that she had the access we needed. Just a name to use!”
“Bullshit.” My voice came out flat and cold. “You watched her. Followed her. Broke into her fucking home.”
“They made me!” His hands fluttered, desperate. “You don’t understand, these people—they’d kill me if I didn’t—”
I was sick of listening to his irritating voice.
My fist landed square in his face. The sound cracked sharp in the small room, and his blood spattered the side of a filing cabinet.
He gasped, holding his face, his eyes wide with disbelief. Probably wondering why the fuck I hadn’t shot him instead. I leaned in close enough to smell the fear rolling off him—sweat, cheap cologne, and copper from the split in his lip.
“They weren’t the ones you should’ve been afraid of.”
I walked calmly back across the room and shut the door. The latch clicked, the sound ominous in the reactive silence. Ethan looked around, his expression terrified, and I smiled.
When the door opened again, the building had quieted. My knuckles throbbed, skin torn across two of them, and there was some blood on my clothes. Otherwise unharmed, the rest of me was calm.
Edge leaned against the wall across from the stairwell, wiping his blade clean before tucking it back under his cut.
Axle crouched over the courier’s case, checking the contents—drive, burner phone, and encrypted modem—all intact.
Kane stood near the end of the corridor, posture relaxed but eyes alert, while Jax typed furiously, cleaning digital traces from the uplink servers.
“Feed’s scrubbed. Key network’s burned.”
“No traces back to us?” Axle asked.
Jax glanced up at him. “Next time you insult me, Ashlynn’s gonna have to find another way to get knocked up.”
Axle scowled. “You talk about Ashlynn and get—”
“You two done measuring dicks, or do I need to put both of you on your asses?” Kane didn’t wait for them to reply before his gaze found mine. “You get what you needed?”
I nodded once. “I’m good.”
A short, collective silence followed—mutual understanding, no need for questions. When it came to our women, there was no line we wouldn’t cross.
Edge straightened, stretching his shoulders. “That was fun. But let’s get the fuck out of here. Callie’s still fighting morning sickness, and if I’m not there to hold back her hair the next time it hits, I’ll be the one catching hell.”
Axle chuckled as he latched the courier case. “Softest psycho I know.”
Edge smirked. “Says the guy who almost cried when Racer’s kid called him Uncle Mace for the first time.”
“Fuck off,” Axle shot back, but his grin said he wasn’t bothered.
From the back of the hall, Tyre snorted. “You’re all fucking whipped.”
Edge turned his head slowly, his smile curving like a blade. “Careful, brother. You just jinxed yourself. Universe hears shit like that and starts shopping for your soulmate.”
Tyre blinked, then swore under his breath, which made Kane laugh—a quiet, deep sound that didn’t happen often. “He’s not wrong.”
Tired and anxious to get back to my woman, I grumbled, “Let’s move before you tempt it any further.”
We left the same way we’d come in, nothing but shadows. Except we were leaving bodies and useless circuits behind. But Nitro had made Edge a toy to take care of that too.
Outside, the air was cooler, heavy with the metallic tang of recent rain. As we made our way through a copse of trees to the field where we’d parked our rides, we felt a ground-shaking boom, then saw the orange glow of flames over the tree line.
Kane gave Edge a dry look. “Subtle.”
He grinned. “It was Nitro’s gadget.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t give it a little boost,” I muttered.
“I can neither confirm nor deny.”
Our comments trailed off as we reached the row of motorcycles waiting just beyond a sliver of moonlight.
Jax slung his tablet across his chest and gave one last glance back at the smoke and ash swirling in the wind. His expression was blank, but I could see the guilt in his eyes. He felt he’d failed Alanna, which was complete bullshit.
“She’s safe,” I pointed out. “That’s all that matters.”
He exhaled through his nose. “Yeah. Still feels like I missed something.”
“You didn’t,” I assured him. “You gave her peace. That’s more than most of us ever get.”
He nodded once, then followed the others to their bikes.
Kane was already astride his, helmet resting on the tank and his engine purring. “We ride straight back. Clean-up teams will handle the rest.”
Edge rolled his shoulders, swinging his leg over his seat. “You think the brokers got the message?”
“They will,” Kane said. “If not, we’ll write it louder next time.”
Taking a last look at the fire now raging in the night, the weight in my chest eased a little. Another job done. Another threat erased. The most important one ever.
Alanna was safe. That was all that mattered.
I mounted my Harley, making the leather on the seat creak as the engine growled to life beneath me. The sound rolled across the lot like thunder gathering over water. One by one, the others joined in until the air vibrated with it—a brotherhood of machines with one heartbeat.
Kane signaled, and we rode.
Our road captain, Axle, was at the front, while I took up the rear.
I was the last man anyone would see in their mirror—and the one nobody saw after that.
The night swallowed us whole, our tires slicing through wet pavement, exhaust smoke curling into the dark. And for the first time in weeks, the rage in me settled into something steady. Not peace exactly—men like me didn’t get that—but close enough to breathe.