Page 16 of Tank

As she takes a bite of bacon, I'm already plotting our next steps. Whoever hurt my angel is going to learn the hard way what happens when you cross the Iron Reapers. Sophie's demons may still haunt her, but I'll be right beside her, ready to face them head-on. Together, we'll make 'em all pay.

The roar of engines fills the air as I pull into the Iron Reapers' clubhouse, tires kicking up gravel. My brothers are already gathered, their faces grim and determined. They know the score, know what's at stake.

I swing off my bike, stalking towards the group. "Listen up," I bark, voice carrying over the din. "We've got a fucking mission, and failure ain't an option."

Nods all around, eyes hard as steel. They're ready for war.

"Those sons of bitches who took Sophie, they're part of something bigger. A goddamn trafficking ring." I spit the words like venom. "We're going to burn it to the ground."

"Fuck yeah," Ripper growls, cracking his knuckles. "I'm in."

"We all are," Blade adds, his scarred face set in determination.

I lay out the plan, assigning tasks with military precision. "Ripper, Blade, you're on recon. Find out where they're holed up, their numbers, their firepower."

They nod, already itching to get started.

"Doc, I need you to reach out to your contacts in the PD. See if they've got any intel on this operation."

"On it, boss," Doc replies, pulling out his phone.

I turn to the rest of the crew. "The rest of you, prep the weapons, the bikes. We roll out at nightfall."

A chorus of "yes, sir" rings out, the club springing into action. The air crackles with energy, with the thirst for vengeance.

As I watch my brothers work, a fierce pride swells in my chest. These men, they're more than just a club. They're family. And when one of our own is threatened, when an innocent like Sophie is caught in the crosshairs, we'll rain hell down upon the bastards responsible.

My thoughts drift to Sophie, to her haunted eyes and the way she clings to me in the night. I made a silent vow to keep her safe, to chase away her demons. And I'll be damned if I let her down.

The Iron Reapers, we're not just a motorcycle club. We're fucking warriors, and we take care of our own. Sophie's under our protection now, and God help anyone who tries to hurt her again.

I roll my shoulders, feeling the familiar weight of my cut settle on my back. It's time to go to war, to show these fuckers what happens when you mess with the Iron Reapers.

"Saddle up, boys," I call out, swinging onto my bike. "We've got some hell to raise."

The engines roar to life, a battle cry in the fading light. We ride out as one, a leather-clad army on a mission of vengeance. The streets belong to us tonight, and we won't rest until justice is served.

For Sophie, for every innocent soul caught in the crosshairs, we'll fight like hell. And we'll make damn sure evil knows its place - beneath our boots.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves as I hear the rumble of Carlie's car pulling up outside. The thought of venturing out, even with friends, sends a cold shiver down my spine. But I can't hide forever, can't let the bastards who hurt me win.

Straightening my shoulders, I grab my purse and head for the door. Carlie and Jenny are waiting, their smiles warm and inviting. I slide into the back seat, mustering a shaky grin in return.

"Hey, girl!" Jenny chirps, her voice bright with forced cheer. "Ready to hit the shops and find you some killer outfits?"

I nod, not quite trusting my voice. Carlie catches my eye in the rearview mirror, her gaze soft with understanding.

"We've got you, Sophie," she says gently. "One step at a time, okay?"

As we pull out onto the street, Jenny cranks up the radio, belting out off-key lyrics to some pop song. Despite myself, I feel a smile tugging at my lips. Their enthusiasm is infectious, a balm to my battered soul.

The mall is crowded, a dizzying blur of noise and color. I stick close to Carlie and Jenny, my heart pounding as we weavethrough the throngs of shoppers. Every loud voice, every sudden movement, has me flinching, my nerves stretched taut.

But my friends are a steady presence at my side, their laughter and light-hearted banter a lifeline in the chaos. They hold up dresses and tops, making exaggerated poses and cracking jokes until I find myself giggling along with them.

"Ooh, this one would look hot on you," Jenny declares, waving a lacy black top. "Tank won't be able to keep his hands off you!"

I flush, ducking my head as Carlie swats Jenny's arm. "Hush, you," she scolds, but there's a twinkle in her eye. "Let's focus on making Sophie feel good, not giving Tank a heart attack."

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