Chapter 4: The Siege of the Iron Skulls
The first volley of fire turned the porch into splinters. Tank dove behind the thick oak porch post, his heart hammering. He fired back, his movements fluid and precise, a byproduct of a life spent in the shadows of the law.
But there were too many of them.
Then, a sound erupted from the woods that made the hairs on Tank’s neck stand up—the roar of a hundred engines.
The Iron Skulls didn't arrive quietly. They tore through the treeline like an invading army. Headlights cut through the darkness, blinding the tactical team. The tactical team was good, but they weren't prepared for a club of fifty hardened bikers who viewed this land as their own backyard.
The yard exploded into chaos.
Tank vaulted over the porch railing, joining the fray. He didn't fight like a man anymore; he fought like a force of nature. He took down two of Sterling’s men, his movements fueled by the memory of Sarah’s tears and Lily’s haunting gaze.
Jax, the president, pulled up beside him on his massive hog, firing a shotgun into the air to disorient the attackers. “Get your family, Tank! We’ll handle the trash!”
Tank didn't need to be told twice. He sprinted to the cellar door, kicking it open.
“Sarah! Lily!”
He grabbed them, shielding them with his own body as he ran toward the bikes. The air was thick with the scent of gunpowder and burning rubber. He shoved Sarah onto the back of Jax’s bike and pulled Lily into his arms.
“Go!” Tank yelled.
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They tore out of the woods, the Iron Skulls acting as a wall of steel between them and the shooters. Bullets whizzed past his head, but Tank didn't look back. He rode for the sunrise, his daughter’s small arms wrapped tightly around his chest, holding on for dear life.
They weren't escaping anymore. They were breaking free.
