Page 28 of Tank

As we ride, the wind whipping against my face, I close my eyes and see Sophie. Her delicate frame hunched over the computer, fingers flying across the keys as she pours her heart into the search for Chloe.

I know she's blaming herself. Wishing she could've done more. But she's already given so much. Risked everything to help us, to save the girl who means more to her than her own life.

And I'll be damned if I let her carry this burden alone.

We pull into Perdition, the roar of our engines announcing our arrival. Sophie's waiting for us, her eyes red-rimmed and haunted.

I'm off my bike in an instant, pulling her into my arms. She clings to me, her body shaking with silent sobs.

"We'll find her, little one. I promise you that."

She looks up at me, her gaze fierce despite the tears. "I want to help. I need to do something."

I brush a strand of hair from her face, my touch gentle even as my words are firm. "You've done more than enough. Let us handle this."

But I know she won't back down. Not when it comes to Chloe. And as much as I want to protect her, to keep her safe from the darkness that threatens to consume us all, I know I can't deny her this.

"Okay," I say, my voice rough with emotion. "But you stay close to me. You don't leave my sight for a second, you hear me?"

She nods, her jaw set with determination. And in that moment, I see the strength that's always been there, just beneath the surface. The fire that refuses to be extinguished, no matter how many times the world tries to snuff it out.

Together, we turn to face the road ahead. It's a long and bloody one, but we'll walk it side by side. For Chloe. For each other. For the family we've found in the midst of the chaos.

And heaven help anyone who tries to stand in our way.

The roar of engines fills the air as we tear out of the compound, gravel spraying beneath our tires. I can feel Sophie's arms wrapped tight around my waist, her body pressed close against my back. Normally, her touch would ignite a fire in my veins, but right now, all I feel is a cold sense of dread.

I shouldn't have let her come. I should have insisted she stay behind, where it's safe. But I know that look in her eye, that stubborn set to her jaw. She needs this. Needs to feel like she's doing something, anything, to help bring Chloe home.

We weave through the streets, the city a blur of neon and shadow. I push the throttle harder, urging my bike faster, faster.Every second counts. Every moment wasted is another chance for those bastards to slip away, to vanish into the night with their twisted cargo.

I can't let that happen. I won't.

We screech to a halt outside the warehouse, the air thick with the stench of fear and desperation. I'm off my bike in an instant, my gun already in my hand. I can hear the sounds of a scuffle inside, the grunts and curses of men locked in brutal combat.

My brothers. My family.

I turn to Sophie, my eyes locking with hers. "Stay close," I growl, my voice brooking no argument. "And if I tell you to run, you fucking run. Understand?"

She nods, her face pale but determined. I want to pull her into my arms, to crush her against my chest and never let go. But there's no time. No time for anything but the mission at hand.

I kick open the door, the metal screeching in protest. Inside, it's chaos. Bodies writhing, fists flying, blood splattering the concrete. I scan the room, my gaze settling on a knot of figures in the center of the fray.

And there, in the midst of it all, is Chloe.

She's on her knees, her hands bound behind her back. Her face is bruised, her lip split, but her eyes... Her eyes are alive with a fierce, desperate hope.

"Tank!" she cries out, her voice cracking with emotion. "Tank, thank God!"

I'm moving before I even realize it, shoving my way through the melee. I can feel Sophie on my heels, hear her ragged breathing as she struggles to keep up. But all I can see is Chloe, all I can think about is getting to her, saving her, bringing her home.

And then, out of nowhere, a figure looms up before me. A man, his face twisted with rage and hate. He's got a knife in his hand, the blade glinting in the dim light.

"You shouldn't have come here," he snarls, his voice thick with malice. "You should have stayed the fuck away."

I don't bother with words. I simply raise my gun and pull the trigger, the report echoing through the warehouse like a thunderclap. The man crumples, his knife clattering to the ground.

But there are more of them, so many more. They're coming at us from all sides, a sea of angry faces and grasping hands. I can feel Sophie pressed against my back, her fists raised, ready to fight.

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