Tank

by Erin Bevan

  She unstrapped her helmet and stuck it under her arm. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.” Turning his head to hide his smile, he asked, “You know anything about this girl?”

  “Not much.” She shrugged then passed him her helmet as she unsaddled her bike. “I know she waits tables most days, all day long.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “Been scoping her out?”

  “I’ve driven by a time or two. Nothing major.” He shrugged. Make that more like ten, but admitting the fact out loud seemed…creepy. “What else do you know?”

  “I assume she gets knocked around, but I’ve never seen any proof other than her limping a little or favoring an arm or a certain leg most days.” JoJo tossed her braid off her shoulder.

  “I noticed the same last week.”

  “So, you’ve been coming by a lot?” Accusation crept in her tone.

  “I’ve been getting breakfast here, and I drove by a time or two in the evenings to get a glimpse.”

  “Okay, that’s kinda stalkerish.” JoJo took a step back.

  His jaw tensed. “Look, I’m no stalker. Last week, when she reached in the donut case, her sleeve pulled up. The bruise was faint, but the coloring was definitely there. I needed to make sure my theory was correct.”

  “That Batman mentality.” JoJo rolled her eyes. “Okay, so, we know her name is Annie, and we know she’s most likely being abused or extremely clumsy. What I don’t know is why you’re so worried about this girl.”

  He’d been asking himself the same question for the past week. While she was still beautiful, the carefree spirit he remembered seeing in her as a child was gone. He wanted her to have that back.

  “You know her or something?”

  Not as well as he wanted. “A little, but not much. She used to live across the river from my Grandfather, but I have to admit, I’m surprised you’re asking me why I’m worried about her. Isn’t this part of your mission as a Blue Guardian—to protect the innocent?”

  “My mission, not yours. You’re not a Blue Guardian.”

  “Yet.” He tossed her helmet back to her and headed for the sidewalk. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait.” She gripped his arm. “What’s the plan? We can’t just go in there and pepper her with questions. You know how dangerous this can be, right? Hence why Guardians don’t confront abused women first.”

  He motioned for her to step against the building to let an elderly couple pass. They each nodded to the twosome, appearing as if everything was fine.

  Once the people were out of earshot, he leaned closer. “I’ve got a plan, okay? Just follow my lead.”

  “Tank, this is not a good idea.”

  Of course it’s not, but he couldn’t stand by and watch from the outside any longer. He had hoped once he went to the meeting, he could confirm Annie got the help she needed. But if the Blue Guardians wouldn’t act first then he would.

  “It’s the only one I’ve got. Are you coming or what?”

  “Ugh.” The woman blew out a breath. “I’m going to help you, but it’s not because I like you. So don’t go getting any ideas.” She pushed off the side of the building.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it. You want to let Father know what we’re doing? I gathered it’s against group rules.”

  “Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, right?”

  “Right.”

  He wanted to be in the pack. More than anything. Well, almost anything. His desire to see to Annie’s safety began to run deeper than almost any other in his life. She was apart of the few happy memories from his childhood, whether she knew it or not. He needed to see her happy again. He shook a nervous feeling building inside of him as he stepped over the threshold. Against the rules or not, he needed to talk to her.

  A man with his nose stuck in a book nursed his coffee at a table to the far left. Two other couples, one young, one old, occupied two other tables, while a family of four took another. Slow night. He expected as much for eight-thirty in a small town like Black Widow.

  Annie tossed an order on the cook’s reel and headed for them, her gait a little unsteady. “You’re back.”

  She gave him a brief smile. Albeit small, it was genuine. Not the robotic ones he’d been getting most mornings.

  “Just the two of you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Right this way.”

  He motioned for JoJo to walk ahead and followed the women to a table surrounded by the two couples at the front of the restaurant. He squeezed his way through the small space between the tables just as Annie tossed the menus down on the tabletop. “Here you go.”

  “Can we sit back there?” JoJo pointed to the back of the diner. “This guy is so big, there may be more room for him back there.”

  Annie looked to him then behind her. “Sure. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that.” Her cheeks flushed as she gathered up the menus. “Wherever you want is fine.”

  Little Bit led the way to a table in the very back corner. “This one’s good.”

  Tyler gave his cohort a nod of understanding. While it appeared JoJo was looking out for him, and his legroom, he knew the truth. If they were going to have any chance of talking to Annie, they needed to do it privately, as far away from the other customers as possible.

  “Great.” Beauty placed the menus down again. “I’ll give you guys a minute to look over your choices. What would you like to drink?”

  “Water for me,” JoJo said.

  “Same here.”

  Annie limped off behind the bar to pour their drinks.

  “You ready, hot shot? You got it all figured out?” JoJo pulled out her chair and sat.

  “I think so.” Tyler sat, and his knee bumped the leg of the table. He turned his body sideways to give himself enough room and picked up his menu. “She’s favoring her right leg. Did you notice?”

  “Yep, sure did.”

  “She wasn’t this morning when I came in, but she has been on her feet all day.”

  “She could just be tired.”

  Doubtful. He hadn’t been reacquainted with Annie long, but in the short time he’d seen her pull double shifts nearly every day. A schedule like that, she’d be used to the rigors of standing on her feet all day.

  “We both know that’s probably not why,” he whispered as Beauty walked back toward them.

  “Here you go.” She placed their drinks down beside them. “Are you guys ready to order?”

  Now was his chance.

  “Annie, I want to talk to you about something,” he began, his voice low. She had to duck closer to hear him— exactly what he wanted. He kept his gaze focused on the menu.

  “Okay, sure. What’s up? Something on the menu you don’t understand?”

  “No, it’s nothing about the menu.” He tossed her a stare, and kept his voice down. “Just act casual, okay?”

  “I don’t understand.” She pulled back a little.

  “Smooth. Real smooth.” JoJo rolled her eyes.

  Beauty glanced from him to his friend and back again. “What’s going on?”

  “Annie.” He met her gaze. Her eyes held a bit of fear in them along with the weariness he’d seen the past week. What was happening to this poor woman? He cleared his throat. “Please, just act casual and keep your voice down. I just want to help.”

  “Help with what?” She took a step back.

  Now that the time was here, offering her help seemed much easier in his mind than the real action. He had to be honest, dive in headfirst. No other way.

  “I know you’re being abused,” he whispered.

  Her eyes grew as her head shook from side to side. “You’re crazy. Now, do you want something or not? I’ve got work to do.”

  Her voice held more passion in that one sentence than he had heard or seen all week. His instincts had been correct. The Annie he’d seen the past week, that wasn’t the real her.

  “Annie.” JoJo’s voice soft, and sweet as a pained expression passed
her face. She placed her elbows on the table and leaned in. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “It’s not any way. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She turned on her heels.

  They were losing her. He was losing her.

  “The beatings won’t end,” JoJo said loud enough for Annie to hear.

  Beauty stopped and turned around again but didn’t step closer.

  Tyler glanced around the restaurant and kept his voice low. “I want you to know you have options. There are people willing to help you. I want to help you.”

  She fidgeted with the locket around her neck, her gaze cast toward the floor. “How do you think you’re going to help me, huh?” Annie scoffed and stepped closer, her voice small. “My fiancé is a cop, and not just any cop, but the Chief of Police. No one can help me.” Her lower lip trembled.

  Fiancé. The man with the eyes. Had to be him.

  “I can give you a place to stay.” The words tumbled from his lips before he gave them a second thought.

  Where would I place her?

  “Where?”

  His thoughts exactly.

  She stepped closer. “The county shelter?” Her voice escalated, and she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Perhaps to control her temper. When she opened them, her voice faded back to a whisper. “He answers calls for domestic violence. He helps place women who are abused in that shelter, and he has access to other shelters all over the state due to his connections. He’d know where or how to find me.”

  Tyler couldn’t see her in a shelter, nor did he want her in one. He wanted her somewhere he would know she was safe. Somewhere her fiancé wouldn’t know where to look.

  There was only one place.

  “He doesn’t know me. And he doesn’t know that you know me. You’d be safe if you came to stay with me.”

  “You?” She laughed.

  His ego took a plunge at the sound.

  “I don’t know you. Not really. All I know is you were once a boy who fished with his grandfather and taught me to toss a rock. Now, you’re a man, just like my fiancé. Only difference between the two of you is you like chocolate donuts and drink your coffee black. Why do you think I’d stay with you?”

  Her words struck a nerve, the reference he was anything like her fiancé caused his blood to rage. He would never be that kind of guy. He reined in his anger. She had no idea what kind of guy he was. He’d have to show her.

  “Because I’m nothing like your fiancé,” he whispered. “I would never beat you, nor would I let anyone else.”

  She blinked several times as a tear threatened to fall down her cheek.

  “Yeah?” She sniffled. “Well, thanks, Romeo, but I’ve had my fair share of living with men.”

  “Listen to him, Annie,” JoJo cut in. “He just wants to help you.”

  For a second, he’d forgotten his sidekick was there, and for the first time that evening, he was glad he’d ran into JoJo, even if she came across a bit surly. At least the chick seemed to have a clear head on her shoulders.

  “Annie, what’s taking so long with that order?” a big man from the back hollered. “I’m ready to close up back here.”

  “Sorry, Mo. Customer just had some questions about the menu.”

  “It’s a cheeseburger or a patty melt,” the big man grumbled. “What’s so complicated?”

  A bell chimed at the front door. The short cop he saw at breakfast last week headed to the pick-up register. Tyler’s hands clammed.

  The man waved at Annie.

  “Hey, Brayden.” She waved back, her voice a bit shaky.

  The robotic smiles, the small talk for the past week, it all started to make sense. Small towns had eyes and ears everywhere.

  Tyler reached for JoJo’s hand and gave her a hard stare. Reluctantly, she reached across the table to hold his as if they were a couple, and turned up her nose at the obvious dankness of his palm.

  Sweat or no sweat, if short cop reported back to the Chief of Police, he wanted to make sure the man had absolutely nothing suspicious to report of Annie’s behavior. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more harm than she’d already encountered, and if that meant pretending to be JoJo’s sweaty lover, well, so be it.

  “Just look down at the menu and pretend like you’re focusing on what I’m pointing to,” he said to Annie.

  He pointed to the cheeseburger. “You know where I live. You can come day or night. I’ll give you a place to stay.”

  She backed up from him and scribbled on her notepad. “I’ll have your burgers right out,” she said in a tone loud enough for everyone to hear, but not too loud to appear like she was trying. Good acting; then again, she’d probably had a lot of experience with the art while hiding her abuse from everyone.

  She whispered, “What’s your name?”

  In their entire week of morning donuts and coffee, not once had she asked him his name.

  He glanced at JoJo then stared at Annie. If he was going to help her, and represent the group, then he needed to accept everything about the club…including his name. “Name’s Tank.”

  Annie moved her gaze from his eyes to his shoulders, chest, then down to his one leg propped out from under the table. “Fitting.” She turned on her heels and stuck their order on the cook’s reel.

  “Well, that went well.” JoJo pulled her hand back and wiped it on her napkin. “What’s up with the dishwater hands?”

  “Uniforms make me nervous.”

  “You got a thing against cops?”

  “Not really.”

  She gave him a puzzled look.

  He rubbed his hands down his glass and changed the subject. “You think she’ll take my offer?” Despite the fact Annie thought so low of him, he couldn’t help but steal a glimpse at her as she did her job. Whether she cared for him or not, his pull for her only grew stronger with her resistance.

  “Don’t know.” JoJo took a sip through her straw then leaned back. “Depends on how desperate she gets.”

  Gets?

  In his mind, she was already desperate. He might not have known her father, but he knew a loving father wouldn’t want this kind of life for a daughter.

  Hell, he didn’t want this life for her.

  He wasn’t a frightened kid anymore. Knowing an innocent, defenseless woman like her was being abused… He wrung his hands; his gut twisted as he waited for the nausea to pass. He might not know her well, and she sure as hell didn’t know him, but she was his first crush. And if she didn’t listen, she could wind up dead.

  She had to listen and know she deserved more. He would make it his mission to get through to her and help her understand. Somehow. Someway.

  Chapter Four

  Annie pulled her car into the carport she shared with Duke. His truck sat parked in its usual spot, while his police cruiser resided on the street. He liked to park his patrol car on the curb to scare people as they drove by. Vehicles would slow down the minute they thought a cop watched. Authority gave him a thrill.

  She grabbed her purse off the passenger seat and took a deep breath. God. What the hell had happened tonight?

  That big, burly blond guy—Tank. And his little dark-headed friend—his girlfriend? For his sake, she hoped not. They appeared about as good for each other as a drug to an addict, not to mention the thought made her slightly jealous.

  How stupid.

  When she was a little girl, she’d begged her dad to walk to the water with her so she could play. While she loved spending time with him, what she really enjoyed was staring at the shy boy across the stream. For seven summers, she’d waved, hoping to get a chance to talk to him, and every time she waved, he would keep his head down, and barely raise his hand.

  When she began to take it personally, her dad would excuse the boy’s behavior as him being shy. Until finally, on one hot day, he’d worked up the nerve to talk to her. That summer, when he left to return home before she could get any contact information from him, a bit of her heart sunk. Too embarrass
ed to ask his grandfather for the information, she resorted to counting down the days until he would come back again the next summer. But, right before he did, everything in her life changed.

  For the worse.

  And now, that boy was back in her life. Except he was no boy. He’d been in the diner every day for the past week, and every day she’d had to concentrate on not staring at him. Problem was, he was so big she couldn’t help but see him. And if the small tingles of fascination she experienced for him weren’t bad enough, he’d always make the sensation worse by coming in and talking to her. Only her. Never the other girls. And his shyness…he must have outgrown it.

  Anytime one of Duke’s friends would stop in and notice, she’d cut the conversation off, and a balloon of panic would swell in her gut. She often feared Duke could read her mind.

  If only Tank had spoken to her more when they were children, maybe things would be different for her now.

  Who was she kidding? Young love didn’t last. Not that she’d ever been in love with the big burly man anyway.

  She pushed the childish notion aside and reached for her locket, kissing the gold. “Give me strength, Daddy,” she whispered as she stepped out of her car.

  She cringed at the pain in her joints, but the dull ache was quickly replaced with dread of what she would walk inside to. Duke’s moods were always a surprise. Some days elation, some days anger. Maybe he was passed out on the sofa. She could only wish.

  Discomfort ricocheted up her leg with every step as the noise from the television greeted her entrance. She crossed the threshold, checking the house alarm. Off.

  Her fiancé’s brooding expression made her wish the diner stayed open twenty-four seven. She’d work triple shifts if she could. “Hey, honey. How was your day?”

  “Fantastic, honey. How was yours, honey?” He chugged his beer and crushed the can in his hand.