Chapter 4
FOUR
TANK
I burst into the Iron Reapers' meeting room, my heart pounding in my chest. The guys are gathered around the table, nursing beers and shooting the shit. But as soon as they see me, the room falls deathly silent. They know something's up.
Mason, Prez to all of the Iron Reapers MC, locks eyes with me from across the room. I give him a tight nod, my jaw clenched. He straightens in his chair, his brow furrowing.
"What's going on, Tank?" Dagger asks, leaning forward. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The image of Sophie, bruised and bleeding on my doorstep, is seared into my mind.
"It's Sophie, the girl from last night,” I say, my voice rough with barely contained rage. "Those bastards...they had her. Kept her locked up for years. Beat the shit out of her."
"Jesus Christ," someone mutters. Shocked curses echo around the room.
"They did a real number on her. Broken ribs, concussion. And...worse."
The implication hangs heavy. Mason's eyes blaze with cold fury. His hands clench into white-knuckled fists on the table.
"She got out, somehow. Escaped and ran for her goddamn life," I continue, pacing like a caged animal. "Managed to make it here before passing out. Scared out of her mind that they'd find her again."
"Motherfuckers," Dagger growls, slamming his fist on the table.
I meet Mason's steely gaze again. "She needs our help, brother. I gotta protect her. Get her somewhere safe, away from those sick fucks."
The room is utterly still except for the sound of my own ragged breaths. Every man hangs on my next words.
"I ain't letting them lay another finger on her, Mason. I'll kill every last one of 'em myself if I have to." My voice is low and deadly. "But I need the club's backing on this. I need your help to keep her safe, get some justice. You feel me?"
Mason stands slowly, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. He braces his hands on the scarred wood, head bowed as if the weight of the world rests on his broad shoulders. The seconds stretch out, fraught with tension.
"Fuck," he finally mutters, dragging a hand over his face. Haunted eyes meet mine. "You know the shit this could bring down on the club, Tank. On our fuckin' doorstep."
I nod grimly. "I know. But we can't just turn our backs. Not on this."
Mason begins to pace, every line of his body coiled tight. The club watches him, waiting. Trusting his lead.
He freezes. I see it in his eyes--the warring instincts. Protect the club, our way of life. Or protect an innocent caught up in the devil's snare.
He squares his shoulders, facing the room. His expression is granite, resolute.
"The club protects its own," he rumbles. "And if Tank vouches for her, considers her family, then that makes her our family too. Our responsibility."
Murmurs of assent rise from the guys. Dagger nods firmly, loyalty shining in his eyes.
"We're with you, boss," he affirms. "Just give the word."
Mason's gaze finds mine again, understanding passing between us. A silent vow. He turns back to the club, a king rallying his warriors.
"Listen up," he barks. "This is how it's gonna go down. tank and i will work out the details, but one thing's crystal fuckin' clear."
He leans forward, voice dropping to a lethal register.
"We protect what's ours. And god help the bastards who come lookin' for that girl. 'Cause they just picked a fight with the wrong motherfuckers."
A roar of agreement fills the room, harsh and defiant. The sound of brotherhood, of blood ties thicker than any threat.
I meet Mason's eyes over the chaos, something easing in my chest. He nods once. It's a promise, an oath of reckoning.
"For Sophie," I rasp. "For family."
I waste no time. "Dagger, I need you on surveillance. Work with Slick, tap any contacts y'all got. We need eyes on the streets yesterday."
Dagger's grin is pure trouble, but there's steel beneath. "You got it, brother. Time to rattle some cages, see what shakes loose."
"Rig, Ghost - lock this clubhouse down tight as a virgin's--" Mason clears his throat. Right. Not the time. "Just make sure we're secure. Rider, post up some hidden scouts 'round the perimeter."
The guys jump into action, already barking orders and strapping on gear. Dagger claps my shoulder as he strides past, his grip solid as an oath.
"We got you, man. Bastards won't know what hit 'em." His eyes dance, but there's a lethal edge to his smirk. "Hell, I almost feel sorry for 'em. Almost."
A chuckle punches outta me, grim but real. Leave it to Dagger to find the fuckin' humor in a shitstorm. "Yeah, well. They picked the wrong girl to mess with."
"Damn straight. Sophie's with us now." He sobers, voice rough. "We'll keep her safe, brother. Ride or fuckin' die."
Emotion clogs my throat. I pull him into a rough embrace, slapping his back. "Knew I could count on you, man. Always."
"No place I'd rather be." He steps back, jerking his chin toward the door. "Now let's go hunt down some soon-to-be-dead sumbitches."
"Hooah," I mutter, falling back on old habits. Dagger just grins, feral and fierce.
We move out, the club a well-oiled machine of deadly purpose. I catch Mason's eye across the chaos, a thousand words in a glance. He nods, solemn as a blood pact.
The message is clear: protect our own. Protect Sophie.
And god fuckin' help anyone who tries to stop us.
"You'll get 'em," Mason assures me, clapping my shoulder. "We've got this, brother. Sophie's family now."
The words settle something in me, a knot of tension unraveling in my chest. I know what it means, the weight of that promise. The club will move heaven and hell to keep her safe, and god help anyone who tries to stop us.
We all know what's at stake. We've all seen the scars, physical and emotional, that Sophie carries. And we all know, with a bone-deep certainty, that we'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.
I turn to Mason and Dagger, my brothers through hell and back. The weight of this goddamn mess settles on my shoulders, but I know these men got my back, no matter what.
Mason's eyes meet mine, that intense gaze cutting through the bullshit. "We'll keep her safe, brother. Ain't no fuckers gonna touch her, not on our watch."
I nod, jaw clenched tight. "Gonna need eyes on her 24/7. Trust no one outside the club. These bastards, they're connected. Powerful."
Dagger leans against the wall, arms crossed over his cut. "We got prospects eager to prove themselves. Put 'em on rotation, always someone close by." He flashes a wicked grin. "And if any shitbags come sniffing around, we'll introduce 'em to our brand of hospitality."
A dark chuckle rumbles in my chest. Dagger's good for that - cracking wise even when the world's gone to hell. But beneath the swagger, I know he's ready to bust skulls to keep our girl safe.
Mason's hand clamps on my shoulder, his grip strong as iron. "Sophie's family now. We'll burn the whole fuckin' world down 'fore we let anyone hurt her again." His voice is low, lethal. The vow of a man who'd walk through fire for what's right.
I breathe deep, letting their loyalty wrap around me like armor. My mind whirs, planning, preparing for war. Those pieces of shit that tortured our girl better start praying. The Iron Reapers are coming for blood, and we won't stop 'til every last one of 'em is in the ground.
But first, I gotta check on my angel. Girl's been through hell and I'll be damned if I'm not there to hold her through the nightmares. My hands ache to touch her, to promise her she's safe, cherished.
I lock eyes with my brothers one last time. No words needed. We're ride or die, 'til the very end. Sophie's got an army at her back now. And God help anyone stupid enough to fuck with what's ours.