Chapter 26
Sophia
Sophia woke to the sound of dripping water.
A slow, rhythmic tap… tap… tap… echoing off concrete walls.
Her head throbbed. Her mouth was dry. Her wrists burned where the zip ties had rubbed her skin raw. She blinked hard, trying to focus, but the world swayed around her like she was trapped inside a nightmare she couldn’t wake from.
A single bulb flickered overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow across the room.
Cold. Damp. Silent except for the dripping.
She wasn’t in the clubhouse. She wasn’t anywhere safe.
Sophia had grown up in a house full of voices: brothers shouting, parents arguing, Abuela humming in the kitchen. Silence had never meant safety. Silence meant something was wrong.
Her stomach twisted so violently she thought she might be sick. Her pulse hammered in her ears, loud enough to drown out everything else.
Sophia forced herself to breathe, slow and steady and controlled. Panic would get her killed. She’d seen enough violence in the ER to know what men like this were capable of. She’d seen what they left behind.
Her hands were tied to a metal chair in the center of the room. Her ankles were bound. Her cheek throbbed where someone had struck her. Her throat felt raw from screaming Switchblade’s name.
She’d never been the kind of person who went unheard. In her family, someone always answered. Here, her voice vanished into concrete.
Switchblade.
The memory hit her like a punch — the gunshot, the way he’d fallen, the way his voice had broken when he told her to run. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she blinked them back. She couldn’t fall apart. Not here. Not now.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Heavy. Slow. Deliberate.
Sophia’s pulse spiked. Her fingers curled into fists even though she couldn’t move her arms.
Viper stepped into the light.
He was exactly like the man in the photo, the one with the black snake tattoo crawling up the side of his neck.
The ink caught the dim light, coiling over corded muscle, unmistakable even in the shadows.
Broad shoulders filled the doorway, his Reaper cut hanging open like a warning.
His shaved head gleamed, his jaw sharp and cruel, and the look in his eyes made her stomach drop.
Sophia’s vision narrowed. She knew that tattoo. She knew that face. She’d seen him shaking hands with the man trading cash for cages.
His eyes were cold, flat, dead, the eyes of a man who enjoyed hurting people.
He smiled.
“Well,” he drawled, circling her like a predator. “Look who finally woke up.”
Sophia forced her voice not to shake. “Let me go.”
He laughed, a low and humorless sound that made her skin crawl. “You’re not in a position to make demands, sweetheart.”
He crouched in front of her, gripping her chin hard enough to bruise. His fingers smelled like oil and cigarettes. His nails scraped her skin.
“What did Reyes tell you?”
Sophia’s heart pounded so hard she felt it in her teeth. “Nothing.”
Viper’s smile vanished.
He slapped her.
Her head snapped to the side, pain exploding across her cheek. She tasted blood. Her eyes watered, but she refused to cry. She wouldn’t give him that.
“Try again,” he hissed.
Sophia swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay steady. “He didn’t tell me anything.”
Viper’s jaw ticked. “Reyes had information. He told someone. And you were the last person he spoke to.”
Sophia’s breath hitched. “He didn’t—”
Viper leaned in close, his breath hot and sour against her ear. “Lying to me is a mistake.”
Before he could say more, the door burst open.
One of his men stumbled in, panting, eyes wide with panic. “Boss, we got a problem.”
Viper stood slowly, turning toward him with a look that could kill. “This better be good.”
“It’s the Saints,” the man said, voice shaking. “They hit the truck. The whole shipment. Gone.”
Viper froze.
Then he exploded.
“WHAT?!”
The man flinched. “They took the women. All of them.”
Viper’s face twisted with fury, a rage so violent it made Sophia’s blood run cold. He looked like a man seconds away from tearing the world apart with his bare hands.
“Those bastards think they can steal from me?”
He turned back to her, eyes blazing with hatred.
“This is your fault.”
Sophia’s breath caught. “I had nothing to do with—”
“You’re going to pay for what they did,” Viper snarled. “Every. Last. Bit.”
He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. Sophia gasped, tears springing to her eyes.
“Please…”
“Shut up.”
He shoved her chair over. It crashed to the floor, the impact rattling her bones. Her shoulder screamed in pain as she hit the concrete.
She struggled to breathe, her cheek pressed against the cold floor, her wrists trapped beneath her.
Viper crouched beside her, voice low and venomous. “You’re leverage now. And when the Saints come for you — and they will — they’ll learn what happens when you cross me.”
He stood and barked an order. “Untie her and put her in a cage.”
They dragged her out of the room and into the night air, crossing a short stretch of cracked pavement still inside the compound. Another door. Another lock. Another building in the maze the Reapers called home.
Sophia’s heart stopped.
Sophia had spent her whole life keeping people safe, her brothers and her patients and anyone who needed her. Being trapped, unable to help anyone, felt like having her purpose ripped out of her.
“No, no, please.”
Two Reapers moved in immediately. One grabbed the chair and jerked it upright. The other sliced through the zip ties with a knife, the blade so close to her skin she felt the cold metal kiss her wrists.
The moment her hands were free, they yanked her up by her arms.
Her legs buckled. She stumbled, dizzy and disoriented, but they didn’t slow. They dragged her across the room like she weighed nothing.
Sophia kicked and twisted and fought, but she knew how strong these men were. She’d seen the aftermath of their violence in the ER. She knew exactly what they were capable of.
“Let me go!” she cried, voice cracking. “Please—!”
They didn’t even acknowledge her.
They shoved her through a metal door into a long, narrow corridor lined with cages welded into the walls.
Empty cages. Waiting cages.
She’d never been alone like this. Not truly. Not without a voice, a hand, a presence. The emptiness felt like it was swallowing her whole.
Her stomach dropped. “No—no, please—don’t—”
They threw her inside one and slammed the door shut. The lock clicked with a finality that made her knees give out.
Sophia scrambled to the bars and gripped them with shaking hands. She’d spent her whole life reaching for others, and now her hands closed around nothing but cold steel. “Let me out. Please.”
Viper stepped into the doorway, silhouetted by the flickering light.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said coldly. “Not until the Saints come crawling.”
He turned away.
The lights dimmed. The door shut. Sophia was alone.
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she pressed her forehead to the bars, tears slipping down her cheeks. She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t helpless. But she was terrified.
Her voice failed her, but the thought didn’t. Maddox… please find me.