Page 24 of Tank

Tank drags a hand over his face, the leather of his gloves rasping against his stubble. "Sophie, please. I need you to understand-"

"No, you understand!" The words come out as a snarl, laced with pain and fury. "I was them, Tank. I know that hell intimately. The fear, the degradation, the utter fucking despair..."

My voice breaks, tears burning at the back of my eyes. "I can't abandon them," I whisper. "I won't. Not while there's still breath in my body."

For a long moment, Tank just stares at me, his dark eyes fathomless. Then, slowly, he reaches out to cradle my face in his hands.

"I know," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. "I know, little one. And I'm so goddamn proud of you. Your strength, your courage...it humbles me."

He presses his forehead against mine, our breath mingling in the scant space between us. "We do this together," he says fiercely. "Side by side. I've got your back, now and always."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak past the lump in my throat. We stand there for a stolen heartbeat, drawing strength from each other. United. Unbreakable.

Then Tank steps back, his face hardening into a mask of grim determination. "Let's go raise some hell."

As one, we turn to face the warehouse, ready for war. Ready for vengeance.

Ready to bring our lost ones home.

The Iron Reapers move like a well-oiled machine, a pack of wolves on the hunt. Weapons are checked, gear is strapped on, orders are barked out in clipped tones. The air crackles with a lethal mix of anticipation and fury.

I stand in the midst of the controlled chaos, my heart hammering against my ribs. Tank is a solid presence at my side, his body coiled with barely leashed aggression. He hands me a Kevlar vest, his eyes boring into mine.

"You stay close to me, understood? No heroics, no solo missions. We do this smart and we do this safe."

I nod, my throat too tight for words. I know he's risking everything by letting me come along, putting his faith in my strength, my resolve. I won't let him down. I can't.

As I strap on the vest, my fingers brush against the scars that map my skin, a roadmap of pain and survival. Each one a reminder of what I've endured, what I've overcome. What I'm fighting for.

Tank must sense the direction of my thoughts, because he reaches out to squeeze my shoulder, his touch grounding me in the present.

"We've got this, little one," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "Those bastards won't know what hit 'em."

I manage a small smile, drawing courage from his unwavering support. Around us, the Reapers are grim-faced and battle-ready, a brotherhood forged in blood and loyalty.

Carlie catches my eye from across the room, her expression fierce and determined. She gives me a quick nod, a silent promise. We're in this together, sisters in arms.

The rumble of motorcycles fills the air as the Reapers mount up, engines growling like caged beasts. Tank swings onto his bike, all coiled power and lethal grace. He holds out a hand to me, an unspoken invitation.

I climb on behind him, my arms wrapping around his waist. I can feel the heat of his body through the leather, the pulse of his heartbeat beneath my palms. In this moment, we are one. Unbreakable.

As the convoy roars out into the night, I close my eyes and pray. For strength, for courage, for the lives we're racing to save.

We're coming, I whisper to the lost and broken. Hold on just a little longer.

The Iron Reapers are on the warpath, and heaven help anyone who stands in our way.

The roar of the engines fills my ears as we speed through the night, a pack of wolves on the hunt. Tank's body is tense beneath my hands, his focus razor-sharp.

I lean into him, my cheek pressed against the cool leather of his cut. The wind whips through my hair, the chill a stark contrast to the heat building inside me.

Tank glances back at me, his eyes dark and intense. "You ready for this, Sophie?"

I nod, my throat tight. "I have to be. Those girls... they're counting on us."

He reaches back, his hand finding mine. Squeezes once, a silent promise. "We'll get them out. No matter what it takes."

I cling to his words, to the strength in his grip. Tank is my rock, my anchor in the storm. With him by my side, I can face anything.

---