Page 92 of Grim

Grim snapped.

He drove his knife into the man’s throat, rage shaking through him like electricity.

Stone grabbed his shoulder. “Grim—enough!”

Grim ripped free, chest heaving, eyes wild. “She’s not here. She’s not fucking here.”

Stone scanned the shadows, jaw tight. “We need to move. They could still be on-site.”

Grim stepped into the open air and bowed his head, Sophia’s charm clenched in his fist.

His voice broke.

“Sophia…”

The Saints stood around him, silent, furious, grieving.

Stone’s voice was low, deadly. “We hunt. We don’t stop. Not until we bring her home.”

Grim lifted his head, eyes burning with something feral.

“Spider dies.”

Chapter 30

Grim

The night pressed in around them like a living thing. Cold. Heavy. Watching.

The Saints moved across the Reapers’ compound on foot, not as bikers or outlaws but as the men they used to be.

They advanced in a staggered formation, each man covering a different angle, each step silent, controlled, lethal. Their cuts were soot-stained, their faces grim, their bodies coiled with purpose.

Find Sophia. Kill Spider. Make the Reapers bleed for Switchblade.

Grim led the line, Stone at his shoulder, Havoc and Rook flanking them like wolves guarding a wounded alpha. Fish moved ahead, low and fluid, scanning shadows with the sharp, predatory focus of a sniper on overwatch.

Ledger’s voice crackled softly in their comms, steady and focused, the calm center of the storm. “Movement on thermal. East side of the yard. Three heat signatures. One matches Spider’s build.”

Grim’s pulse detonated.

Stone raised a fist. The entire line froze instantly.

No words. No noise. Just the soft rustle of gear and the distant hum of a generator somewhere deeper in the compound.

Rook inhaled, nostrils flaring. “They’re close.”

Havoc rolled his shoulders, muscles bunching. “Let’s finish this.”

Stone nodded once. “Masks on. No survivors except the one who talks.”

Grim didn’t reach for a mask. He wanted Spider to see his face.

They approached the far warehouse, a squat and rotting structure crouched beside a scrapyard, metal siding warped like old scars. A single bulb flickered above the loading dock, casting a sickly yellow glow across the cracked pavement.

Fish lifted two fingers, then pointed left. Two guards.

Stone tapped Havoc and Rook. Go.