Page 74 of Grim

Inside the truck were cages, metal and welded and stacked two high. Women huddled inside them, bruised, terrified, some crying, some staring blankly like they’d already given up.

One woman flinched when the door opened, shielding her face with trembling hands.

Stone stepped forward slowly, palms up. “You’re safe now. We’re not here to hurt you.”

The women didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t trust.

Stone softened his voice. “We’re taking you out of here. We’re taking you somewhere safe.”

A woman in the top cage whispered, “Who are you?”

Stone met her eyes. “The men who came to get you out.”

Something in his tone — steady, warm, unshakable — broke through the terror.

The woman nodded.

Stone turned to the men. “Cut the locks.”

Havoc and Rook used bolt cutters, snapping the bars open one by one. Grim helped lift the women down, his movements gentle despite the adrenaline still burning through him.

Some women sobbed. Some clung to the Saints. Some collapsed the moment their feet hit the ground.

Stone called over the comms, “Send in the vans.”

Two unmarked vans pulled up, engines idling.

Stone addressed the women again. “We’re taking you to a recovery center. The Sheriff’s on standby. It’s safe. They’ll take care of you. No one will hurt you again.”

A few nodded. A few whispered thank you. One woman grabbed Grim’s arm, tears streaming down her face. “Thank you… thank you…”

Grim swallowed hard. “You’re safe now.”

Stone assigned two men to each van, ensuring the women were protected the entire way.

“Take them straight there,” Stone ordered. “No stops. No detours. Call me when you arrive.”

The vans pulled away, taillights disappearing into the night.

The Saints stood in the road, the wrecked truck smoking behind them, the Reapers unconscious and zip-tied.

Stone exhaled slowly. “Good work.”

Havoc cracked his neck. “Feels good to hit back.”

Rook kicked one of the Reapers hard. “Feels even better to hit them.”

Fish stood a few feet away, scanning the tree line, voice low. “We need to move. Someone’s gonna come looking.”

Grim didn’t speak. He was already thinking of Sophia.

Stone clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Go home. She’s waiting.”

Grim nodded once. The Saints moved toward their bikes, hands on handlebars, boots settling into position, the kind of quiet that comes after a hard-won fight settling over them.

A burst of static ripped through the comms, sharp, violent, wrong.

“—Stone—copy—” Ledger’s voice cracked through, warped and breaking. More static. A hiss. A thud.