by Erin Bevan
“Morning.”
“You’re new leather looks nice.”
“I know.” She gave him a self-assured grin.
When she had helped him pick out Annie’s, she had selected one for herself as well, and he’d gladly paid for it. Least he could do for her after what all she’d done for him and Annie.
He jumped in the back of his truck, and dropped the ramp to unload his bike. “A simple thank you would suffice.”
“Not my style.”
“Imagine that.”
“Enough chit-chat.” Father hollered. “Let’s ride.”
Tyler unloaded his bike, and Annie ran over to him.
“Hey, leather looks good.” JoJo remarked, staring at Beauty’s outfit.
“Thanks for helping, JoJo. You did good.” Annie stood beside him.
“I know.” Little Bit threw her helmet on and revved her engine.
“She’s too damn cocky for her own good.” Tank shook his head. No way in hell was his sweet and beautiful Annie a JoJo Junior. “Here, let me help you.” He grabbed the helmet from her hands and placed it on her head. “Can you hear me?”
Annie nodded.
“Okay, hop on Moonlight, straddle the bike, and hold on to me. When I lean, you lean with me. Got it?”
“Yep.”
He adjusted himself on the seat. She gripped his shoulders and tossed her leg over the saddle, then snaked her arms down his waist. Her hold firmed before he even took off.
“Are you scared?”
“A little. I’ve never been on a bike before.”
He patted her hand and spoke over his shoulder. “I’ll take good care of you. I promise.”
“I know.” She placed her helmet on his shoulder and squeezed his waist a little harder. “You know where we’re going, right?”
“Yeah. I have directions on my phone if we lose the group, and Sandi is holding up the rear. We should be good.”
Father drove to the front of the pack and pointed his finger forward. “Let’s ride,” he shouted above the noise.
Several of the members hollered in excitement. The whooshing sound of revved engines sang out like a melody as bikes zoomed off one by one to follow behind the pack leader.
“We’re going to have fun, Annie.”
“I know.” She gave him another squeeze.
He’d be sure of it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tank parked outside the honky-tonk Father suggested and turned off his bike. He stared back at Annie over his shoulder. “Pit stop.”
“Thank God.” She released her grip and took off her helmet. Her blonde hair tumbled loose from her bun. Waves of golden glory blew in the breeze, causing her sweet scent to envelope him again. He let out a little groan.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Fine. Just ready for a break.”
She ran her fingers through her hair. “Me, too. The vibrations from the road shot straight to my bones and my thighs.” Beauty gripped her legs. “I might not be able to walk straight for days.”
Thighs, vibrations, not being able to walk straight. Even “bones” was too close to another word. All words and phrases he didn’t need to think about. And if she kept swishing her hair and touching her thighs, his break would need to take place in private.
Tank grit his teeth. “You about ready to dismount?” He needed space. Lots of space.
“Yeah.”
Annie handed him her helmet, gripped his shoulders again, applying the slightest amount of pressure, and lifted her leg over the saddle. She stood beside him and unzipped her jacket. Sweat dripped down her neck and fell below her shirt collar to places he couldn’t see, but damn sure wanted to.
“You about ready to take that jacket off?”
She glanced down. “Yeah. It was a nice barrier against the wind but a little hot.” She slid the leather off her arms. Her button down stuck to her stomach, a thin layer of wetness covering her torso.
Damn it. Why couldn’t it be white?
Tank placed their helmets on a hook off his saddlebag. “Let’s go. I’m starving.” He glanced around but didn’t see Sandi and Alfred yet. Surely, his pup was okay.
Placing his hand, feather light, on the small of Annie’s back, he led her into the restaurant behind the rest of the group. Her gait stiff, he studied her walk, and in the process observed how nice her ass looked in those jeans.
Shit.
A couple of other bikers to the left stopped and stared as he and Annie walked into the bar. Tank gave the men his most menacing stare, using his size to his advantage.
“Hey, man, just appreciating the view,” the overweight one yelled and straddled his bike, while his skinny friend cowered away from his gaze.
“Go appreciate another one.”
She turned toward the men. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Nothing he couldn’t handle if he had to anyway.
He opened the door for her and ignored the men leaving the parking lot. His eyes adjusted to the lack of light inside the bar, despite the bright sun outside letting him know it was some time around noon. Some loud, country song blared from the speakers in the ceiling, and the smell of grease wafted in the air. His stomach churned.
“Hey, Tank. Come over here. We need another player.” Steele pointed to the pool table, he, JoJo, and Tree stood beside.
“Naw, man. I don’t play pool.” He waved a hand. Poking small balls with a long stick… Not his thing.
“Annie? You up for a game?” Steele offered a pool stick in her direction.
“Yeah, Annie. Let’s show these guys how it’s done,” JoJo hollered.
“I don’t know. I haven’t played much before.” Beauty shook her head.
“Come on.” Tree wrapped an arm around Steele’s shoulders. “We’ll go easy on you.”
“Please, Annie.” The firefighter gave her a puppy dog stare. “We really need another player.”
“Oh, all right.” She glanced up at him. “Do you mind?”
“Of course not. Go ahead. We’ll order when you get done.”
“Okay.” Annie gave his arm a squeeze and trotted toward the group.
Despite her sore thighs, her steps and mood seemed lighter than back in Black Widow. The fresh air, fresh faces, all good for her. Could he be good for her? The need to try increased with every minute they were together.
Sandi opened the door behind him. “Your pup is sleeping in the car. I left it on because it’s hotter than blazes outside. If my car gets stolen, you’re buying me a new one.” She pointed a finger at him.
She could have just turned the car off and rolled the windows down. Al was used to the heat, but Tank didn’t bother to tell Sandi that. Despite the woman’s no-nonsense exterior, she seemed to have a soft spot for some of the same beings he did.
“Will do.” He saluted her. “But Alfred will protect your vehicle.”
“Yeah, right. That menacing thing? Dog ‘bout licked me to death for the first hour, then got tired and slept for the past two. And what the hell do you feed that thing? His farts smell worse than Father’s.”
Tank snickered. “He likes his table scraps.”
“Well, maybe it’s time to find him a more balanced diet.” Sandi glanced around the bar. “I’m going to watch these women kick ass in pool. Steele is a terrible player. No one’s ever bothered to tell him. We all figured he should know by now.” She slapped him on the shoulder and sauntered toward the pool tables.
He scanned the place, saw Father pull up a chair at the bar, and ambled toward him. “Mind if I sit with you?”
“Not at all. Bartender, another beer.” Father tapped the bar.
The man nodded and pulled another glass down from the rack above his head.
“Hot enough outside for you?” The leader asked.
“Oh, it’s all right. It’s Texas.”
“That’s right. It’s Texas.”
The bartender slid a beer to each of them. Father pulled a ten from his
wallet.
Tank held up his glass. “Thanks, man.”
“Cheers.” The leader tipped his goblet, the glasses clinking then took a long pull. “So.” He leaned back in his chair. “Tell me, Tank, what’s your story?”
Damn, he sounds like Annie.
“No how was your ride, or how do you like living in Black Widow?”
“We small talked about the weather. I thought that would suffice.”
Tank took a sip of his beer, the amber liquid going down cool over his parched throat. “What do you mean, what’s my story?”
“I mean, you show up here resolute to join the Guardians. You spot a damsel in distress and take her under your wing, determined to keep her safe. You walked into a home with an abused kid and get the kid to open up to you faster than anyone else. You’ve done more with this group in the short time you’ve lived in Black Widow than most of them have in the five years we’ve been established there.”
Tank shrugged and glanced back at Annie. He knew his story would have to come out eventually; he just didn’t know if he was ready for today to be the day.
He watched Beauty as she made a pocket hole and turned around to give JoJo a high-five. No doubt JoJo asked her to play because of their last poker game. Beauty sure knew how to pull one over on a person, and Steele and Tree were no exception. Both men stood with their arms crossed. Steele shot his gaze across the bar and gave Tank a cross look as he shook his head.
He gave his friend the same shit grin Steele had given him earlier that morning and, with a heavy sigh, turned to prop his elbows on the bar.
Time to face the music.
He glanced back at Father. “You sound like Annie, you know that?”
“Well, from the questions she asked the other day after checking your mail, something frightened her. You’ve got secrets. Might feel good to let ‘em out.”
“Don’t pull that counselor talk on me. You may be good at your job, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to lay on your couch and let it all out.”
“Fair enough, but I promise, you’ll feel better.”
Tank shook his head and took another long sip of his beer, nearly draining the glass. He needed some liquid courage to relive his past. He sat the glass down with a thud, and shook his head. “My story isn’t good.”
“I figured, but why don’t you tell it to me anyway?”
“Have you ever been in love?” He glanced back at the leader.
Father blew out a breath. “Yeah, I have.”
“You love Sandi?”
The leader glanced across the bar. The cafe owner leaned against the wall, watching the pool game. “We haven’t been dating long, but Sandi’s a good gal. I enjoy her company.”
Tank could read between the lines.
“Well, I’ve never been in love before, but I think…” He shook his head, and glanced back at Annie.
“Hey, man, that’s great.” Father slapped him on the back. “It’s a great feeling. Does she know?”
“Naw.” He shook his head. “She’s not going to find out either. She’s had a shitty deal lately, and the last thing she needs is my shit added to it.” He drained his beer.
“Your shit, huh? Does a parent have anything to do with it?”
Tank thought back to being a seven-year-old boy, hiding under his bed, or stuck at the top of a tree clinging to the branch. He let out a sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”
“Your father. He hit you?”
“Some. Yeah.” He pursed his lips and cracked his neck. “But it wasn’t really the hitting that bothered me.”
Father placed his arms on the bar top and whispered, “He did other things to you?”
He cocked the leader a hard stare, and instead of shame, he was met with compassion. “Yeah. He did.”
“Shit, man.” Father leaned back in his chair. “I’m sorry. How old were you.”
“Seven.” He tapped a nail on the counter and focused on his paper coaster. “I was seven.”
“How long did it go on?”
“A year.”
“Did you tell anyone about it? Your mom?”
“Nope. I didn’t tell anyone. My father…he would uh…” He kept his focus on that little coaster, as if the cardboard ring would give him the courage he needed to continue. “He would work security service at the community college at night. He’d come home just as my mother would leave for class.”
And that’s when everything would go wrong.
“She went year round, hoping to get done faster. She attended school during the day and bartended at night. My parents were never together. Mom would kiss me every morning before she left, and I pretty much wouldn’t see her until the next morning. She always left me…with him.” Tank motioned for the bartender to pour him another beer.
“Explains why you were sweating in the diner. Duke’s uniform, it triggered something.”
“Yeah. Security officer and cop uniform. They look similar. You know, my mom, she worked hard her whole life, waitressing or tending bar. Right before my seventh birthday, that’s when she decided working so hard for so little wasn’t the life she wanted forever. When she started nursing school…”
“That’s when the abuse started,” Father finished for him.
“Yeah.” He stared at the wooden bar top. “He would stand in my doorway still dressed in his uniform… and…and watch me as I got dressed for school, or demand that I didn’t get dressed at all.” He choked the last word out and swallowed. He wouldn’t cry. He swore to himself he’d never let the man hurt him again, and he sure as hell wouldn’t let the pain start now.
Not again. Not ever again.
“How did it end?”
“One day, after my mom left, my father, he…” Tank stopped and took in a few deep breaths.
“Take your time.”
He was stronger than his pain, stronger than his fears. He closed his eyes, and pushed away the feeling of his body shaking on top of the thin tree branch, the pain of the bark digging into his palms, realizing jumping to his death would be better than coming down to face his father. The sound of pictures rattling on the walls as his dad stomped toward his bedroom. None of that existed anymore.
“He got undressed. I ran and hid under my bed. He started hollering, screaming for me. He screamed so loud, he didn’t hear my mom come back home. She’d forgotten one of her books. She walked in, heard the screams and went to investigate. That’s when she saw my father with his pants down, dragging me out from under my bed.”
“That’s when it ended?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “She swept me away to my grandfather’s for the summer, and my father went to prison. He got twenty-five years.”
“I’m sorry, son.”
“Yeah. Well, it wasn’t your fault I got an asshole for a father.”
The bartender set down the fresh beer.
“Thanks, man.” Tank reached for his wallet.
“No. I got it.” Father threw a five on the bar.
“Thanks.”
The bartender took the bill then pointed to the two of them. “Nice to see a father and son having a beer together.”
“Yeah?” Father grinned to the bartender. “Too bad we aren’t related.”
“Could have fooled me.” The man placed the money in the cash register. “It’s your eyes.”
“Nope.” Tyler sat back. “Just friends.” He slapped Father on the shoulder.
The man shrugged and walked off.
“Maybe I’m starting to hang out with you too much,” the leader suggested. “You know how they say people who spend time together start looking alike.”
“Damn, then before too much longer, I may grow a tail.” Tank laughed, glad for the short distraction.
Father joined in. “True.”
“Hell.” He shook his head and held his beer to his mouth. “I wish you were my father. You would’ve been a hell of a lot better than the one I had.” He sipped.
“Yeah, but remember, because of what yo
u’ve been through, you’ve been able to help others going through some of the same situations. You’re a good man, Tank.”
Father gave a pointed glance back at Annie, and Tank followed his gaze.
Steele re-racked the balls while JoJo marked a line on the chalkboard that hung on the wall. The Ladies had one point; the Idiots had none. He stared at the woman he’d been living with the past few weeks. His heart pulled.
“I don’t know.” Tank swiveled back to the bar. “Like I said, she’s great, but she doesn’t need my baggage.”
“Why don’t you let her decide that? I imagine Annie is pretty tired of being told what to do.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Usually am.” Father took a sip of his beer.
“I gave her a biker name today.”
“Yeah?” Father sat back. “What’s the name?”
“Moonlight. She’s decked in black to keep her hidden, and her hair is blonde. The contrast of the two is like the moon in the night. I only thought it fitting.” He left the part about her tattoo out. The meaning seemed too personal for him to share on her behalf.
“Hot dog. You’re right.” The leader swiveled in his chair. “Let’s go, Moonlight. Kick some testosterone ass.”
Annie raised her pool stick, while the others stared.
“Moonlight.” Sandi clapped a hand on Annie’s shoulder. “That’s my girl”.
More catcalls came from their crew in admiration for her new name.
Tank tipped his beer to her, and she passed him a subtle wink that made his shaft harden. Damn she was beautiful.
He turned back to the bar. “Okay, I told you something. A big something. It’s your turn.”
The biker sat his mug down. “Sure. That’s fair. What do you want to know?”
“Why do you call your Harley, Harley? Why not something a little more…original?”
Father nodded his head, his eyes taking on a distant gaze. “You asked about love earlier. I was in love.”
“You were?”
“Yep. Twice. My first love, Gracie, she died after two years of marriage. Cancer.”
“Oh, man. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Most don’t. I don’t talk about her much. I had a few years of drinking, and jumping from one job to the next. My sister, she suggested I get counseling. After therapy, that’s when I decided I wanted to be a counselor. So, much like your mom, I went to school later in life. Got my degree.”
