Page 78 of Grim

Ledger tapped the screen again, and the footage expanded.

Smoke billowed through the clubhouse corridors, thick and swirling, turning the emergency lights into a pulsing red haze. The camera angle was terrible — half-blocked by drifting smoke, the lens rattling from tremors the angle didn’t fully catch. Grim could hear the fire alarm, but only as a distorted, static-laced shriek buried under the chaos.

Prospects sprinted past the camera, coughing, dragging injured women toward the safe room. The lens shook violently as something exploded off-screen, the tremor from the ceiling collapse hitting the camera even though the debris itself wasn’t visible.

Then Switchblade burst into frame.

The camera hadn’t caught the moment he reached Sophia — the angle only picked up when he pulled her into view, one arm braced protectively across her body. His face was streaked with soot, jaw clenched, eyes sharp despite the chaos. He kept glancing over his shoulder, scanning every shadow, every doorway, every flicker of movement.

Sophia stumbled, coughing hard, and Switchblade hauled her upright with a gentleness that didn’t match the violence around them. He shoved her behind him again, shielding her with his own body as he moved.

The smoke parted just enough to reveal movement at the far end of the hall.

Three Reapers rounded the corner.

They came fast, boots pounding and weapons raised, faces twisted with the kind of rage that didn’t need words. The camera caught the moment Switchblade saw them. His stance shifted. Shoulders squared. Feet planted. He pushed Sophia back with one hand, never taking his eyes off the threat.

The camera didn’t catch the full fight — only fragments through the smoke.

One of the Reapers lifted his gun.

The emergency light flickered, illuminating the tattoo crawling up the back of his hand — a spiderweb, black and jagged.

Ledger’s voice cracked. “Spider.”

The gunshot tore through the speakers, sharp and violent. Switchblade jerked as the bullet hit, his body dropping hard enough to shake the frame. The camera angle made it look instantaneous, but Grim knew footage never told the whole story.

Sophia screamed — a raw, broken sound that cut straight through Grim’s chest.

Spider didn’t hesitate.

He stepped over Switchblade’s falling body like it was nothing. His hand shot out, fisting in Sophia’s hair, yanking her backward so hard her feet left the ground. The camera caught the initial yank, her body twisting in pain — but the smoke swallowed them almost immediately. Anything after that, including the bag they used to cover her head, happened out of frame.

Her scream echoed through the hallway, through the speakers, through Grim’s bones.

The feed cut out as Spider dragged her into the smoke, the rest of the abduction happening beyond the camera’s reach.

Grim’s vision tunneled.

The world narrowed to a single point of rage, grief, and helplessness.

His breath came in sharp, violent bursts.

Stone muttered, “Son of a bitch…”

Havoc punched the wall so hard plaster exploded. Rook swore under his breath, voice breaking. Fish closed his eyes, jaw clenched.

Ledger swallowed. “He killed Switchblade. He took Sophia. It’s all here.”

Grim’s hands shook so violently he nearly dropped the tablet.

He stared at Spider’s tattoo, that black and jagged web burned into his vision like a brand.

His voice came out low, lethal, inhuman.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Stone didn’t argue. Didn’t calm him. Didn’t tell him to breathe.