Page 22 of Dagger

“You tell us,” Harlan says, his tone ice-cold. “Word is, you’ve been talking to the Serpents.”

Rigs laughs nervously, shaking his head. “Come on, Harlan. You really gonna believe that crap?”

Harlan takes a step forward, his fists clenched. “You calling me a liar?”

“Hey, hey,” Rigs says, holding up his hands. “I’m not saying that. I’m just saying whoever told you that is full of shit.”

I step in then, my voice calm but firm. “Cut the crap, Rigs. We know you’ve been feeding them intel. We’ve got people who heard you. Now, you can either talk to us, or we can do this the hard way.”

Rigs glares at me, his bravado slipping. “You don’t have anything on me.”

“Maybe not,” I say, taking a step closer, “but we’ve got enough to make your life a living hell. And trust me, the Serpents won’t be there to bail you out when we’re done.”

He shifts on his feet, his eyes flicking to Harlan, who’s still glaring daggers at him. “Alright, fine,” he snaps. “Yeah, I’ve been talking to them. But it’s not what you think. They’ve been pushing me for intel. Said they’d leave me alone if I gave them something small.”

“Bullshit,” Harlan growls. “You sold us out for protection.”

Rigs flinches but doesn’t deny it. “Look, I didn’t think it would go this far, alright? I thought they’d back off, but they kept asking for more.”

“And you gave it to them,” I say, my voice low.

He nods, looking at the floor. “Yeah. I did.”

Harlan steps forward, towering over him. “You just cost this club more than you’ll ever understand. So here’s how this is gonna work. You’re done. Out. And you’re gonna give us every single piece of information you’ve got on the Serpents before you walk out that door.”

Rigs hesitates, but one look at Harlan’s face tells him he doesn’t have a choice. He spills everything—locations, names, deals—and by the time he’s done, we’ve got enough to cripple the Serpents’ operations in the area.

Harlan nods at Axe and Bishop, and they escort Rigs out. “If I see you around here again,” Harlan calls after him, “you’re dead. Got it?”

Rigs doesn’t look back.

We hit the Serpents hard over the next few weeks. Stash houses, delivery routes, everything Rigs told us about. They’re not expecting the coordinated assault, and it doesn’t take long before they’re licking their wounds and backing off.

By the time we’re done, the rogues are out, the Serpents are in shambles, and the Iron Valkyries are stronger than they’ve been in months. The club pulls together, the fence-sitters fall in line, and Harlan’s crew starts to feel like a brotherhood again.

Through it all, Harlan and I keep working together, balancing each other out. He’s fire, and I’m ice. He pushes, I pull back. It’s not always smooth, but it gets the job done.

When we finally sit down for a drink one night, Harlan raises his glass to me. “Couldn’t have done it without you, brother,” he says.

I nod, clinking my glass against his. “You could’ve. But it would’ve been a hell of a lot messier.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You ever think about sticking around? Patching over?”

I pause, considering it. The Valkyries feel like home in a lot of ways, but there’s one thing pulling me back to Jackson.

“I’ve got unfinished business,” I say.

Harlan studies me for a moment, then nods. “Fair enough. But if you ever change your mind, you’ve got a place here.”

“Appreciate that,” I say, meaning it.

Harlan assesses me before talking. “You gotta know, you’re leaving Mason hanging right now. You’re his VP, and you’re not there. That’s not sitting well with him.”

I let out a heavy breath, running a hand over my face. “I know. I just... I don’t know how to go back without him losing his shit the second I show up. Or worse, him killing me on sight.”

Harlan lets out a sharp laugh. “You’re probably right. But if you ask me, you’re overthinking it. Call him. You might be surprised by how it goes.”

I finish the last of my beer, knowing he’s right. It’s time to stop dodging this. Time to man up.

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