Grim sighed. He struggled.
He had to tell Auto. He had to.
But he hadn't talked to him in a month or so. He felt bad for delivering the news over the phone.
But he couldn't he leave his mission. Not now. Not until it was over.
Nabis had went too far. He'd gained an enemy that he wasn't ready for.
And Grim would not rest, would not stop, would die until he avenged the people he loved.
He picked up the phone, dialing the number.
“Grim?” Auto asked in disbelief.
“Yeah,” He cleared his throat. He missed his best friend. “I got some bad news."
Auto scoffed. “You haven't called in over a month, Grim. I didn't know where the hell you were—”
“It's about Frankie,” Grim interrupted.
Auto looked at the sleeping woman in his arms. A crease settled between her brow even in sleep. Someone had
