Chapter 21
Grim
Stone didn’t waste a second. “Church. Now.” His voice cut through the clubhouse like a blade. Every patched member moved instantly — chairs scraping, boots thudding, conversations dying. The air shifted, thickening with purpose and fury.
Grim’s hand tightened around Sophia’s as the men filed toward the meeting room. He didn’t want to let go. Not even for a second.
Stone caught the hesitation. “Grim. She goes to your room. Prospects stay outside the door. No one gets near her.”
Grim’s jaw flexed. “I’m not leaving her alone.”
Stone stepped closer, lowering his voice. “We need you in that room. You’re the one who saw them. And you’re the one who’s going to help us end this.”
Grim didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.
Sophia touched his arm gently. “Maddox, go.”
He shook his head. “No. Not after today. I’m not—”
She stepped closer, her hand sliding down his forearm until her fingers laced with his. “Those women need you. Reyes’s wife needs you. The club needs you.”
His throat worked, emotion tightening every muscle in his body.
Sophia cupped his jaw, forcing him to meet her eyes. “I’m safe here. You made sure of that.”
Grim looked at the prospects Stone had already motioned over, Switchblade, Ghost, Brick, and Vandal, all standing at attention and ready to guard her door with their lives.
He still didn’t look convinced.
Sophia softened her voice. “You told me you couldn’t lose me. I’m telling you that you won’t.”
Something in him cracked, not broken but bending under the weight of everything he felt.
He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers, breathing her in like he needed her scent to stay sane. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“I know,” she whispered. “But you have to.”
His hands slid to her waist, holding her like she was the only thing tethering him to the earth. “I’ll be right on the other side of that wall.”
“I know.”
He kissed her, slow and deep and lingering, a kiss that tasted like fear and love and the promise he’d come back. Pulling away felt wrong. His jaw locked, eyes burning.
“Prospects,” he growled, voice low and dangerous. “If anyone gets near that door—”
“We’ll die before they touch her,” Ghost said.
Switchblade stepped forward then, not crowding Grim, just close enough to make sure Grim saw him. Their eyes met, steady and unflinching. He just nodded once, solid as bedrock.
“We got her,” Switchblade said quietly. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”
Something in Grim’s chest eased — barely, but enough to breathe. Switchblade wasn’t just saying it. He meant it. Grim could see it in the set of his shoulders, the way he planted his feet like he was already bracing for a fight.
Stone nodded once. “Switchblade and Vandal at the gate. Brick and Ghost in the hallway. No one in or out.”
The prospects moved instantly, peeling off to their posts.
Grim walked Sophia down the hall. He checked his room first, corners and closet and bathroom, before letting her step inside.
Sophia turned to him. “Go.”
He hesitated. She smiled softly. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”
Grim swallowed hard, then kissed her one more time, a kiss that said everything he didn’t have words for. Leaving her felt wrong, like stepping away from the only thing keeping him steady.
He lingered for a heartbeat, his forehead brushing hers, fighting every instinct that told him to stay.
The prospects took their positions, Switchblade and Vandal heading for the gate and Brick and Ghost locking down the hallway, while the patched members disappeared into Church.
The heavy wooden door shut behind Grim as he entered Church.
The room was dim, lit only by the overhead bulbs and the glow of Ledger’s laptop.
The table was already full, Stone at the head with Havoc and Rook flanking him, the rest of the patched members taking their seats.
Fish sat near the end, half in shadow, posture still and eyes sharp.
Stone didn’t waste time. “Ledger. Show us what we’re dealing with.”
Ledger enlarged the photo of the shipping manifest from Reyes’s phone. The image sharpened, revealing more detail than before.
“Reyes got this right before he was attacked,” Ledger said. “It’s a manifest for a transport route. Dates, weights, coded initials, and a route number.”
He zoomed in further.
Route 16-B.
Departure: 02:00
Location: County Road 187
Rook leaned forward, tapping the screen with two fingers. “That’s not just tonight. That’s an old handoff route.”
Havoc cursed under his breath. “They’re moving another shipment.”
Stone’s jaw tightened. “Women.”
Ledger nodded grimly. “Based on the weight and the number of cages in the first photo… probably eight to ten.”
Stone lifted a hand, stopping the flow of conversation for a moment. “Before we move, I’m calling Dawson.”
Havoc’s head snapped up. “We’re bringing the Sheriff into club business?”
Rook’s jaw tightened. “This is our fight.”
Stone’s gaze swept the table, calm and steady and unshakable. “We still have rules. And those women need somewhere safe to land when we pull them out of that truck.”
Fish nodded once, silent agreement.
Stone continued, voice low but firm. “Dawson won’t interfere. He knows better. But he needs to prep the hospital, get social workers on standby, and keep this quiet. No press. No deputies showing up on scene. No one blowing our cover.”
Ledger tapped the table. “He’ll keep it contained.”
Stone nodded. “He will. And if he doesn’t, he answers to me.”
Havoc leaned back, exhaling. “Alright. Long as he stays out of our way.”
Stone’s eyes hardened. “He will. I’ll make that clear.”
He pulled out his phone, stepping toward the corner of the room as the men continued studying the manifest.
The table stayed silent, tension coiling tight.
Havoc paced once behind his chair. Rook leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on the manifest like he could burn the route into memory.
Fish didn’t move at all, just watched the door and the shadows and the windows and everything.
Ledger kept typing, jaw tight, pulling up maps and timestamps.
Grim didn’t sit. He stood behind his chair, hands braced on the backrest, trying to breathe past the urge to walk out of Church and straight back to Sophia.
Stone ended the call and returned to the table, expression carved from stone.
Grim’s hands curled into fists.
Stone looked at him. “You good?”
“No,” Grim said. “But I’m ready.”
Stone nodded once. “Good. Because we’re hitting that route.”
Rook shifted the manifest toward himself, eyes scanning fast. “We intercept here.” He tapped a point just before the county line. “Blind curve. No streetlights. No cameras. They’ll be boxed in before they know they’re not alone.”
Fish spoke quietly, eyes still on the screen. “And only one way out. They bottleneck themselves without realizing it.”
Havoc cracked his knuckles. “We take out the Reaper escort.”
Fish added, “They’ll run staggered formation. One scout ahead, one tailing. Take the scout first or he’ll warn the truck.”
Rook nodded. “Two bikes minimum, maybe a chase car. Havoc and I will peel them off before they can radio ahead.”
Stone looked at Grim. “And we need that truck stopped without killing the women inside.”
Grim’s eyes darkened. “I can do that.”
Ledger turned the laptop toward him. “You’ll need to disable the engine block without igniting the fuel line. If you can force a stall, we can box them in.”
Grim nodded. “I’ll rig a shaped charge. Small and directional. Enough to blow the axle and drop the truck without touching the cargo.”
Rook smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Clean and controlled. Good. We need them alive long enough to talk.”
Fish’s voice cut in one last time, low and certain. “I’ll take the ridge. I’ll see them before they see us.”
The men nodded.
Stone leaned back. “Alright. Grim handles the stop. Havoc and Rook take the escort. Fish on surveillance. Vandal, Switchblade, Ghost, and Brick stay behind to guard the clubhouse. Ledger, you’re lead on-site.”
Ledger responded, “Compound stays locked down.”
Stone’s voice dropped to a deadly calm. “We end this. Tonight.”