At 2 a.m., the club’s front door slammed open—Ghost’s hand flew toward his weapon… but he went still. A tiny girl, maybe six years old, stood barefoot in the deep snow outside, clutching a motionless infant. Her breath was barely a whisper, her lips darkened from the cold. She stumbled forward and fell at his feet. “P-please… my brother… he won’t breathe…” Ghost felt something twist sharply in his chest. Tonight, he realized, would not be like any other.

A tiny girl, no more than six, stood barefoot in the snow, her thin nightdress stiff with frost. Her arms trembled violently as she clutched a limp infant boy to her chest. Snowflakes clung to her tangled blond hair like shards of glass. Ethan’s breath hitched. Years on the battlefield had hardened him, but nothing prepared him for a child collapsing at his boots.

“P-please…” Her voice cracked, barely audible over the wind. “My brother… he won’t breathe…”

Ethan knelt instantly, shrugging off his heavy jacket and wrapping it around her fragile body. Her skin was ice-cold, her lips turning blue. The infant in her arms was worse—still, silent, his face pale as milk.

“Hey—stay with me, sweetheart,” Ethan murmured, lifting both children into his arms. “What’s your name?”

“Lily,” she whispered. “His name is Noah…”

Ethan kicked the door shut behind him and barked toward the bar, “Doc! NOW!”

Marcus “Doc” Davin, the club’s medic and former paramedic, nearly dropped his drink when he saw the children. He swept clutter off a table and motioned Ethan over. Lily whimpered when Ethan tried to set her down, so he let her stay pressed against his chest while Doc checked the baby.

“No pulse,” Doc muttered, grabbing his trauma bag. “Hypothermia. Severe.”

Ethan swallowed hard. “We can bring him back, right?”

Doc didn’t answer. He began chest compressions with steady, practiced movements.

“Lily,” Ethan said softly, brushing snow from her cheek, “where are your parents?”

Her small hand fisted his shirt. “Gone,” she whispered. “We ran. They said they’d find us if we stayed…”

Ethan stilled. “Who’s ‘they’?”

But Lily’s eyes darted toward the door in terror.

At that exact moment, headlights swept across the frosted windows—slow, searching, deliberate.

Doc froze mid-compression.

Ethan’s grip tightened.

Someone out there was looking for them.

And they had just found the Iron Wolves’ clubhouse.

Ethan moved quickly, carrying Lily to a corner of the room while Doc continued working on baby Noah. “Lily,” he whispered, kneeling so they were eye level, “I need you to tell me who’s searching for you.”

She shook her head violently, tears streaking down her frozen cheeks. “If I tell… they’ll hurt us,” she gasped. “They hurt Mommy. They said Noah was worth money. They were coming back for him.”

Ethan felt something cold and dark settle inside him. Human trafficking. He’d seen it overseas. He hated it then. He despised it now.

“Nothing’s going to happen to you. I promise.” He draped a blanket over her trembling shoulders. “But I need the truth to protect you.”

Before she could answer, Noah let out a tiny, weak cry.

Doc exhaled sharply in relief. “I’ve got a pulse. Faint, but it’s there. We need to get him to a hospital immediately.”

Ethan nodded, but his eyes flicked back to the window. The car hadn’t moved. Whoever was out there wasn’t leaving.

He called out to the other men in the room—veterans, mechanics, misfits who owed the club their lives. “Lockdown. Now. No one in or out.” Boots thundered across the floor.

Lily tugged his sleeve. “They took us from our home,” she said softly. “A man named Calvin. Mommy tried to stop them but—” Her voice broke. “She told me to run.”

Ethan felt his stomach twist. A mother sacrificing herself to save her children. Now those children were in his arms.

Outside, the headlights clicked off.

The club went silent.

Doc looked up. “Ethan… Noah’s stable enough to move, but if those men stop us on the road—”

“We’re not taking the main road.” Ethan grabbed his keys. “We’ll take the fire trail behind the warehouses. They don’t know this area like we do.”

Lily clung to him as he lifted her again. “Are we safe with you?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

But as he led the group toward the back exit, the faint crunch of footsteps echoed from the snow outside—multiple pairs, approaching fast.

Ethan’s instincts screamed. They weren’t facing amateurs. They were being surrounded.

He pressed Lily closer. “Doc, go. Get Noah in the truck. Now.” Doc hurried out the back as Ethan turned, scanning the shadows. A voice outside called out softly—too softly. “Lily… come here. Time to go home.” Her entire body went rigid. This wasn’t over. It was only beginning.

Ethan kept his body between Lily and the back door as he signaled the remaining members of the Iron Wolves to take defensive positions. The quiet outside was suffocating. Too quiet. Snow absorbed sound, but not this much.

They were dealing with professionals.

The door to the back lot opened just enough for Doc to whisper, “Noah’s in the truck. Engine running.” Ethan nodded and motioned him to stay low.

“Ethan,” Lily whispered, gripping his leather vest. “He’ll be angry. He said… he said Noah was his ticket.”

“Not anymore,” Ethan muttered.

He slipped outside with her held tightly against him. The back lot was dimly lit, only the truck’s headlights cutting through the darkness. Snow swirled in the wind, making shadows dance. Doc sat in the driver’s seat, glancing nervously between the mirrors.

Ethan guided Lily into the passenger seat beside Noah’s car seat—Doc had secured the infant with blankets and warm packs from the clinic room. Noah’s breathing was shallow but steady.

Ethan shut the door gently.

And that’s when a voice echoed from behind him.

“You’ve got something that belongs to me.”

Ethan turned slowly. A tall man stepped forward, flanked by two others. Calvin. Mid-forties, expensive coat, clean shoes despite the snow—he didn’t do his own dirty work. His men did. He carried himself like a businessman, but the coldness in his eyes revealed what he really was—a predator.

Lily whimpered inside the truck.

Calvin smiled. “Lily, sweetheart. You wandered off too far. Come on home now.”

Ethan stepped in front of the truck, jaw clenching. “The kids aren’t going anywhere with you.”

Calvin sighed as if inconvenienced. “You have no idea what you’re getting involved in.”

“I know exactly what this is,” Ethan said. “And I’m not letting you take them.”

Calvin motioned to his men. “Get the girl.”

Before they could move, the garage door behind them burst open—half a dozen Iron Wolves pouring out, armed with bats, wrenches, and a couple of legal firearms they rarely showed.

Calvin’s smile faded.

“This is private property,” Ethan said, stepping forward. “And those kids are under my protection.”

For a few tense seconds, no one moved.

Then Calvin raised a hand, signaling his men to retreat. “This isn’t over,” he hissed. “You can’t hide them forever.”

He disappeared into the snow.

Ethan exhaled shakily, then climbed into the truck beside Lily. “We’re getting you both to the hospital. After that, we’ll keep you safe.”

Lily’s small hand slipped into his. “Please don’t let him take us.”

Ethan looked at her—this trembling child who had carried her baby brother through the freezing night.

“You’re safe now,” he said. “I promise.”

But as they drove toward the hospital, he couldn’t shake Calvin’s words.

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.