Page 38 of Tank

My thoughts drift to Sophie, alone in the safehouse. I pray to a God I barely believe in to keep her safe. To give me the strength to end this.

We roll into town, engines snarling like rabid dogs. Eyes follow us, wide and wary. They know blood's about to spill.

Prez holds up a hand, bringing us to a stop outside a seedy bar. "Gator called. Said Whiskey got a lead. Some tweaker claims he saw Santiago's crew 'round here."

I swing off my bike, every muscle coiled tight. "Let's have a chat with him then."

The bar's a dive, stinking of stale smoke and spilled beer. Jax is waiting, a scrawny junkie twitching beside him.

"This is Slim," Jax grunts. "Says he's got info, but he ain't talkin' without a little incentive."

I grab the tweaker by the throat, slamming him against the wall. "Listen up, you strung-out fuck. You tell me what I wanna know, or I'll snap your fuckin' neck. We clear?"

He nods frantically, eyes bugging out. "Crystal, man. I saw 'em, I swear. Santiago's boys, they was load'n up trucks down by the docks. Crates of girls an' guns an' shit."

A snarl rips from my throat. Fuckin' scumbags. Treatin' girls like cattle.

I drop Slim, letting him crumple to the floor. "Docks. That's where we start."

Jax claps my shoulder. "Aye. We'll find the bastards. Make 'em bleed."

We head for the door, purpose firming our strides. This ends tonight. No more runnin', no more hidin'.

I'm comin' for you, Santiago. And Hell's ridin' with me.

The chapter concludes with Tank and the Iron Reapers departing the bar, armed with new information and grim determination. The urgency is palpable as they mount their bikes once more, the docks their destination and vengeance their mission. A storm is brewing, and the Reapers ride to meet it head-on, resolved to dismantle Santiago's operation and protect those they hold dear. The stage is set for a explosive confrontation that will test the bonds of brotherhood and the depths of Tank's love for Sophie.

TWELVE

SOPHIE

The dim lightsof the Iron Reapers clubhouse cast long shadows over the faces of the gathered bikers. Tension hangs thick in the air, so palpable I can almost taste it. Tank stands at the center of the room, his presence commanding attention.

"Listen up," he barks, his deep voice cutting through the tense silence. "We got one shot to take these fuckers down. Santiago and his men." He fixes his piercing gaze on me. "And we're gonna use Sophie as bait to draw them out."

My heart pounds in my chest as his words sink in. Fear coils in my gut, wrapping icy tendrils around my spine. But beneath the terror, a flicker of determination sparks to life. This is our chance to end it, to make those bastards pay for what they did to me, to all those girls...

Tank's eyes bore into mine, searching. "You don't gotta do this, little one. We'll find another way if--"

"No." The word rips from my throat, raw and ragged. "I'll do it. I have to." I meet his gaze head-on, my jaw set. "Those motherfuckers can't keep doing this. We have to stop them."

Pride and concern war in Tank's expression. He nods once, solemn. "Okay then." He turns back to the club, laying out thedetails of the plan. But his words fade into a dull roar as blood pounds in my ears.

I clench my fists, nails biting into my palms. This is it. Our one chance to take those sons of bitches down. Terror claws at my insides but I shove it back. I can do this. I have to do this.

For all the girls still trapped in that hell. For all the ones who didn't make it out. For myself.

I'm done being a victim, done running scared. It's time to fight back.

And with Tank and the Iron Reapers at my back, I know we can win. We have to win.

Even if it means I have to put my own life on the line to do it.

Perdition buzzes with activity, a hive of controlled chaos. Brothers check weapons, strap on bulletproof vests, exchange loaded glances that say more than words ever could. The air crackles with tension, anticipation, the unspoken promise to protect our own at any cost.

I watch them, these hardened men turned brothers, united in their determination to end this nightmare. Tank catches my eye from across the room, a silent question in his gaze. I nod, resolute. I'm ready.

He makes his way over, his presence solid and reassuring. "Stay close to me out there, little one. I've got you." His large hand engulfs mine, callused and warm. A lifeline in the chaos.

---