Jesus.
They’re barely conscious.
"Check for more," Ghost says. "Diesel, you're with me."
I break the lock with a bolt cutter. The door swings wide. The girl closest to me flinches hard, expecting pain.
I crouch down, gun still ready. “You're safe now,” I say, voice low. “We're not here to hurt you.”
Her eyes search my face. Whatever she sees there makes her shudder once, then crumple into my arms.
I lift her gently. Bones under skin. She doesn’t weigh more than a bag of flour.
Saint comes in with a duffel of emergency supplies. Water. Food bars. Blankets. He kneels and checks the girls, calling out vitals like he’s done this before.
We find two more girls in another trailer, locked in a back closet. One of them can’t even stand.
Ghost’s jaw is clenched so tight I think he might break his teeth.
“These girls were prepped for auction,” he says. “Malice was really getting ready to sell them.”
My gut twists. Grace's face flashes in my head. Her voice, shaky but brave, sayingyou can save the girls trapped there.
She gave us this chance.
We carry them out one by one.
Load them into the back of the van with blankets, heat packs, warm water. Saint rides with them, checking vitals, keeping them awake. Ghost rides shotgun, calling our medic at the clubhouse to be ready.
I linger just long enough to sweep the main office.
It’s empty.
But there’s a ledger.
Names. Codes. Prices.
And dates.
One of them is today.
Today.
They were going to be moved tonight.
My fists clench around the folder, and for a second, all I see is red.
Then I grab the rest of the documents. Stick them in my jacket. We’ll burn the place after.
Havoc sets the charges. One on the gate. One on the main trailer. One inside the office.
We drive away just as the first explosion lights up the tree line.
The Wolves’ empire burns behind us.
We don’t talk much on the ride back.
The girls are alive.
