Page 34 of Fear

And Dakota? She stood still, one hand on her belly, her jaw locked tight, because they all knew. If Sofia wasn’t found soon…There wouldn’t be enough blood in the world to make up for what would come next.

***

Her wrists ached from the zip ties. The cold bit into her skin, her ribs still throbbing from the blows. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, but she refused to break.

The van rattled over the rough terrain, its engine loud in the otherwise silent night. She was blindfolded, but she didn’t need her eyes to know exactly where she was being taken. Jason had sent his men for her, and whatever came next?

It wasn’t going to be good. Sofia swallowed against the rising panic, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn’t some helpless woman, she wasn’t weak, but she was trapped.

And as the van rumbled on, carrying her deeper into the unknown, only one thought burned through her mind. Goliath.

Would he know? Would he come for her? Would he burn the world down to find her?

She had no doubt in her mind. Yes. Yes, he would.

Chapter 14

The night air was thick with the scent of oil, gunpowder, and death. The low growl of engines cut through the silence as the Wolverines, the Blood Fangs, the Iron Claws, and the Black Reapers descended upon the Shadow Riders' clubhouse like a storm.

This wasn’t just a fight. This was an execution. The first shot rang out like a crack of thunder. Then all hell broke loose.

The Wolverines hit hard and fast, leading the charge as bullets tore through the darkness. Engines roared. Tires screeched. Gunfire erupted from the clubhouse as the Shadow Riders scrambled to defend themselves.

King’s voice was a snarl over the radio.

“Stick to the plan. Wolverines, front and centre. Blood Fangs, push from the west. Iron Claws, take the east. Black Reapers, don’t let anyone out the back.”

Goliath gripped the handles of his bike, his wolf raging beneath his skin. He wasn’t here for bloodlust—he was here to end this.

They rode in hard, bullets spraying, the roar of their bikes a war cry. Goliath leapt from his ride before it even fully stopped, a shotgun raised as he fired at the first bastard stupid enough to run at him. The force sent the man flying, his chest exploding in a spray of red.

The Blood Fangs came in like savages, their style raw and brutal, bodies slamming into enemy ranks like battering rams. Ronan himself was a beast, breaking necks with his bare hands, his men ripping through the opposition like wolves tearing into a fresh kill.

On the east side, Viper and the Iron Claws moved like ghosts. They were calm, precise, deadly, slipping in and out of the shadows, knives slitting throats before the victims even knew they were dead.

The Black Reapers had one goal—containment. Mace and his crew didn’t fight fair. They set fire to the escape routes, forcing the Shadow Riders into the open, where they were gunned down like animals.

This was war, and they were winning. Goliath stormed through the chaos, his focus razor-sharp. He wasn’t interested in the foot soldiers. He wasn’t here for the men scrambling to save themselves.

He wanted one person. Grant. The Shadow Riders’ VP had made this personal.

Goliath ripped through the clubhouse, his boots crunching over bodies, his breath a ragged snarl. Every bone in his body burned with the need to end the bastard.

He kicked open a door, his gun raised—empty room. Another door—clear.

Then, down the hallway, a voice. A familiar one.

“Motherfucker—”

Goliath turned the corner just in time to see Grant trying to escape through a side entrance. Coward. With a roar, Goliath launched forward, tackling Grant from behind. They went down hard, rolling across the ground in a tangle of fists and fury.

Grant swung first—a mistake. Goliath caught his wrist, twisting it until something snapped. Grant howled, but Goliath didn’t stop. His fist collided with Grant’s face. Once. Twice.

Blood splattered against the dirt. This wasn’t a fight. This was a slaughter.

“You think you can run?” Goliath snarled, wrapping his hands around Grant’s throat, squeezing. “You think you can fucking hide?”

Grant choked, struggling, but Goliath didn’t let go.

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