"That's what I figured," Troy quipped, motioning Tank outside the doorway. Tank complied, turning around and swinging his arms around behind his back. The cuffs were cold.
"What the hell is this about?"
Tank looked up, shaking his head at Jayce. "Clark will sort it out," he said evenly. "That kid last night got a concussion. Daddy's got him pressing charges."
"Fuck."
Fritter was next to Jayce. "Where's Downey?" he asked Troy. "Why isn't she the one doing this?"
Troy paused, looking uncertain, then answering with a short, "Why do you think?"
Tank let himself be pushed and pulled to the cruiser, thankful he'd been able to shower and eat a good breakfast. Sitting in the back of the cop car, he took a moment to go over the night before, trying to see if he could have handled it all any better.
The answer was no. Rose was right; this was who he was. If people could talk down to him all day long and belittle him because of their own status, he had every fucking right to knock an asshole out every now and then.
No one said anything as they rode to the station. Troy was with another officer Tank didn't recognize, but he'd never been arrested in Markham before. He was booked quickly, without much talk. Yet another unfamiliar officer took him down to the holding cells. No interview room for him. He'd lawyered up before they even had him in the cuffs.
The four-man cell was empty when they shut the door behind him. If they expected him to make a show of shaking the bars or proclaiming his innocence they'd be mighty disappointed. He simply walked to a bunk and lay out on the bottom, hands behind his head, staring at the bunk overhead.
-oOo-
He must have dozed off. The next thing he knew, the doors were clanging open again and he turned his head to the sound, then frowned.
Two more men were being tossed into the cell, men he didn't recognize. That was something in this town, especially since they looked like they lived as rough as he did. They had the calm and confident postures of fighters. They reminded him of Knuckles and Fritter, actually.
His brain clicked to full alert as the officer shut the cell door and the lock clicked home. "Play nice now, boys," he chided before walking away.
"Shit," Tank muttered, sitting up on the bunk.
The two men approached him, one to his far right, the other on the left. Yeah, this had been planned from the start.
"Who the fuck are you with?" he asked, sounding tired even as he said it. He really wasn't in the mood for this shit.
No one answered. Asshole one on the left rushed at him, and Tank scooted straight off the bunk, turning as the other one full-body tackled and ran him into the cell bars. Tank exhaled as he made contact, avoiding knocking the wind out of himself. He pushed the man far enough back to clock him in the jaw. The guy went down to one knee, shaking his head, so Tank turned his attentions to the other one.
This guy was grinning now, keeping enough distance between them that Tank couldn't outright grab him. He was quick, too. Tank could tell by how he stepped.
"You here to fight or flirt with me?"
The guy shook his head, reaching into his pocket. He produced a small knife. "I'm here to kill you, asshole."
"Then what's the holdup?"
Knife guy rushed forward, which was stupid. Or he thought Tank wasn't nimble enough to sidestep him with six feet of warning. The man's arm went out between the bars and Tank trapped it there, pinning it between his own and his ribs then dropping down onto it. There was a satisfying crunch as his arm bent the wrong way, and he started shrieking. The knife clattered to the floor outside of the cell and slid out of reach.
"For fuck's sake," someone muttered behind him, but Tank wouldn't be distracted. He shoved the knife man to the side. Now it was his turn to feel the bars at his back. Tank took the guy's jaw in hand and smashed his head to the crossbar of the cell door once, twice, three, and four times. When there was blood on the beige-painted iron, Tank let the man drop, unconscious, and that was when he saw the two unknown officers watching him.
They looked pissed off, and Tank had a split second to worry if Downey knew she had crooked cops in her outfit before the second man was on his back, arm wrapping around his neck.
Tank spun again, backing up forcefully into the bunk beds. The edge of the upper bunk had to be hitting the guy in an uncomfortable way, but for a guy that couldn't take a punch he was a strong fucker. All he did was wrap his legs around Tank's torso for a better grip.
The officers were shouting at them, or maybe just the guy with the killer sleeper hold, but Tank kept ramming the guy into the bunk bed. It wasn't working. The guy was stealing his very breath, making his vision go dark and inky around the edges. He blinked to clear his vision, but it wasn't working. He moved to ram his attacker one more time but he couldn't. He stumbled down onto one knee, and the last thing he saw was the floor rushing up to meet him.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
"We could go shopping," Brandi suggested, dressing it up with far too much enthusiasm.
Rose shook her head. "There's not much to shop for in Markham."
"Then we'll go to Bakersfield. Come on. We can't mope around this apartment all day."
"Go ahead," Rose said with a wave of her hand. "I don't feel like going anywhere."
Brandi sighed, and moved off the couch at Rose's feet to make room for Jennifer, who put a hand on Rose's knee, who happened to be curled up in the corner of her sofa. "Rose? Let's just go see him, then. You can tell him you're sorry. He'll forgive you, I promise."
"I walked away from him again," she whispered, staring out the fire escape window.
"That's why we're going to go over there so you can apologize. Come on. You know he'll forgive you. He's crazy about you."
"I'm terrified, Jennifer. Yes, I love him and I want to be with him but ... can I just deal with it when he has to beat the shit out of people? His first reaction to conflict is either intimidation or violence."
"Who doesn't have that reaction? You know how many times I wish I could just punch someone out? Fuck. I envy that," Gloria exclaimed from the armchair.
Rose shook her head and rested her head on the cushion behind her.
"So parts of his life bother you," Jennifer said slowly, like she was trying to figure something out. "But you're in love with him, and you have guilt over the fact that you didn't let him explain himself last night? Do I have everything correct there?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go see Tank, and you can give him the chance to explain himself. Alleviate your guilt, and that's one concern taken care of."
"Makes sense to me," Brandi chimed in.
"What if he decides I'm not worth it?"
Gloria made a loud groan of exasperation. "You're right. You're not. So I'm going to go steal him away from you. He's awesome, Rose. He loves you, he can barely keep his hands off you, and he'll knock an asshole out just for putting unwanted hands on you. No drugs, no gambling habits, no physical deformities that I can see. He's a winning lottery ticket! Criminal past? So what? Fuck that. I want a guy that looks at me like he looks at you."
"It was hot when he hit that guy," Jennifer admitted, looking sheepish. "I might have got a little excited."
"I had a mini-O, I admit it."
"Shut up, you guys," she cried out, kicking at Jennifer and glaring at Gloria, even as she was laughing. Against her will, but still.
"So let's go get the guy. This is your chance to not be the simpering idiot woman in a stupid fucking rom-com. This is where you walk up to your man and say, 'Here it is, Cowboy. No more showing off with the rough stuff in public, and I'm sorry I couldn't just say that last night. Now take me somewhere quiet and fuck my brains out.'" Gloria held her hands up with a grin. "Right?"
"I love you," Rose told her, still laughing.
"That's not a 'no!'"
"It's not," Rose admitted, rubbing her face with both hands. "I'm stupid."
"Little bit," Jennifer said with absolutely no sym
pathy. "So let's get dressed, you know, in real pants and everything, get something to eat and then go get Tank for you. Okay?"
Rose nodded and got to her feet. "Thanks, you guys. I love you all to death."
"We know." Jennifer wrapped her up in a hug. "Only good friends will point out when you're being stupid."
"And I have nothing but good, rude friends."
Now Brandi hugged them both. "You love us, though."
"I do."
Next Gloria piled on the love, making them all laugh but not separate right away. When they did Rose was smiling honestly, without worry. "Okay. Clothes."
She found a knee-length white skirt and a black tank top in her bedroom. She really needed to do laundry. Her Cowboy had been taking up a lot of her time lately.
The buzzer by the door rang, and she heard Jennifer answer it. "Yeah?"
"It's Knuckles. Can you let me up?"
"Shit," Brandi muttered, but Jennifer pressed the button to unlock the door.
"Don't worry," Gloria was saying as Rose joined them in the living room. "I doubt he's here to propose, Brandi."
"It's not that," the blonde insisted, futzing with her hair. "He's fucking hot. And a great lay. I'm going to get stupid being around him, I know it."
Rose just chuckled and headed for the door, opening it just a few moments before Knuckles arrived. She supposed he was handsome, but he was about as tall as she was and one of those wiry guys. She definitely preferred a beefy man. That thought made her chest ache again.
"Hey," he said, face blank. "Umm, listen. The sheriff's department came by the clubhouse. They arrested Tank for hitting that kid last night. We got our lawyer going over to the station right away, he knows not to talk without representation."
Rose's mouth had fallen open when he said the word arrested. Everything after that was a blur.
"He's been through this bullshit before," Knuckles assured her, voice gentler now. "Don't worry about him. He's a tough fucker, it'd take more than that to get to him." Now Knuckles smiled. "But he'd also want to make sure you were okay. So if you need anything, let us know, okay?"
"Umm, okay."
"Do we need to do anything?" Gloria was at her side, like always. Rose leaned into the shorter woman gratefully.
"Nah. He'll be alright."
"I mean, that kid wouldn't let go of her. That's why Tank hit him. Doesn't that justify it?"
Knuckles shook his head. "Not really. He didn't hurt her, didn't threaten her. No matter how foul-mouthed he got, he didn't start the physical altercation. That was all Tank. He also ended it pretty efficiently, but again, that's Tank's fault."
"Do you want to come in?" Rose finally asked. "We have coffee."
"Nice offer, but that's all right. I've been swimming in coffee all morning. Just wanted to let you know what was up. And I mean it, you need anything, or you see anyone that gives you the creeps, you call us. Someone'll be here as soon as we can."
Rose nodded. "Okay. Thank you."
Knuckles gave a nod, then over his shoulder he delivered one of those grins meant to make loins quiver. "Hey, Brandi." Then he winked and was gone.
Rose closed the door, trying to absorb all that new information.
"Fuck me. You all saw that right? You saw how fuckable that guy is? It's not just me?"
"No, it's not just you," Gloria assured Brandi while putting a hand on Rose's shoulder. "You okay, honey?"
"This is part of it, right? This is what I have to get used to? This is what it's like being with one of these guys?"
Gloria shrugged one shoulder. "I guess so, babe."
"Kinda cool he came here in person to tell you," Jennifer added as they returned to the living room.
"Everyone's really close," she said, slouching into her armchair, still a bit stunned. "You saw them when Gertie told everyone she was pregnant. I mean, that was the reaction of a big family. Right?"
Gloria gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Okay, so change in plans. Lunch, Markham shopping, then we check in at the clubhouse and ask what's been going on. Yes?"
"Sure," Rose agreed. "Sounds good."
Somehow, her girls made shopping in Markham fun. They went into odd, out-of-the-way shops that Rose had never visited, trying on vintage clothing and hats and digging through antique shops with the oddest collections she'd ever seen. One place had an upper floor featuring nothing but hanging light fixtures from every decade. It would have been creepy if it weren’t so incredible.
They took pictures and talked and laughed, and a few times Rose had to remind herself that Cowboy was locked up. She prayed Knuckles hadn't just said all that to make her feel better; she hoped Tank was capable of handling himself, and she hoped their lawyer could get him out of there right away.
They talked her into buying a peach-colored cowboy hat in one consignment shop, and Rose had to admit it was cute. Tank would love it. That was when she declared she wanted cowboy boots, which led to many jokes about there only being one "horse" around for her to ride. Even though her face was warm from the teasing, she was relaxing, deciding to believe Knuckles that everything was okay. This was standard for them. No need to worry.
They didn't find any cowboy boots, but Brandi found a pair of worn-soft chaps that she was pretty sure could be used on stage. With purchases stowed in the trunk of Rose's Toyota, they headed to the clubhouse.
As they pulled in it was obvious they'd arrived in the midst of something. There were people outside, striding purposefully for their bikes. As she parked she noticed Buck and Jayce tearing out of the lot in a squeal of tires, Fritter not far behind them.
Rose pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head and glanced around for someone not fully kitted out to ride. The only one close was Tiny, the silver-haired biker that Rose wasn't entirely sure liked her. But at that moment he walked her way, and she froze in place from his expression. No, he didn't hate her. But he was very worried about something. And that could only mean one thing.
"Tank," she whispered as he drew near. "What's wrong?"
"We just got a call from the hospital. Tank's been rushed to the emergency room. There was a fight in holding."
"What?"
"No one knows what's going on yet. Apparently it happened a while ago, it's a clusterfuck at the moment." Tiny's eyes flicked to her left, and when she looked Rose found Gloria at her side. Again. "Can you drive her to the hospital?"
"Of course. I don't know where it is—”
"Follow me," he cut her off then turned back for his bike.
"Come on, Rose. Let's get to the hospital. No need to be scared until we know everything that's going on, right?"
Rose nodded, dense and slow in her confusion. But Gloria got her into the passenger seat of the Toyota while filling in Brandi and Jennifer. She didn't hear or register much on the drive, all she could think about was the last time she saw Cowboy.
She'd walked away from him. She'd just turned and fucking walked away.
The emergency room looked anything but organized when they got there. The doctors and nurses rushed about their business, oblivious to the shouting between the Red Rebels and members of the Markham PD. Jayce was crimson in the face, shouting at a ginger-haired deputy who looked unaffected by the abuse.
"You know how this works, Troy. You pick up a fucking phone!"
"I had to get the situation under control, McClune. I don't tell you how to do your job—whatever the fuck that might be."
Rose stayed close to the wall, looking for Buck or Knuckles or hell, even Tiny would have been a welcome sight. Someone to fill her in on what the hell was going on and where Tank was.
The doors behind them swung open hard enough to hit the stops with a loud bang, and there was Sheriff Downey. It was the first time Rose had ever seen her in street clothes, and she was quite an attractive woman when not wearing the khaki cop uniform. But that was secondary to the look of fury on her face as she shoved Jayce to the side to get in the deputy's face herself.
"Wha
t the fuck is going on, Garrison?"
"Sheriff Downey, listen—"
"Shut it. I don't want to hear excuses. I just had an ER doctor tell me that a dead body and an unconscious man were just brought to the hospital from my police station. Wanna tell me why the deputy sheriff isn't making that phone call?"
There was drama, a lot of shouting and tension, but all Rose heard was dead body. No, no no nononononono ...
"Rose!" Gloria caught her as she swayed to the side, head growing light in panic.
"No, he can't be dead."
"Rose, here. Sit." Gloria wrangled her onto a vinyl bench, crouching in front of her. "Come on, baby. Don't fall apart."
"She said there was a dead body," Rose whispered, feeling how warm she was just as sweat broke out on her back and chest. Her clothes were too tight as well. Was that why it was so hard to breathe?
There was a loud wolf whistle, which brought everyone's attention back to them. Rose felt her skin shrink as everyone glared at them, then she realized Brandi was standing on the bench next to her with her fingers in her own mouth. She dropped her hand once she had silence. "Who wants to tell Rose what's going on? Because she's freaking out right now, and I don't think everyone here needs to be shouting at each other. Can one of you tear yourselves away from this dick-measuring contest and tell my friend where her man is?"
A few glances were exchanged, then Buck came their way. Everyone broke off into their arguments again, but Rose didn't care. She watched Buck's face for any indication that he was delivering the worst kind of news, but he was hard to read.
Brandi stepped off the bench and Buck gave her a wry grin before taking a seat. The grin made Rose exhale in relief. He wouldn't be smiling if Tank was dead.
"Tank got jumped in holding. Two guys went in with him. From what I've heard Tank took out one of them and the other one choked him out, but that's all I know. Eventually Deputy Troy got there and put a stop to it. The other guy is still at the station. Tank went into surgery about half an hour ago."
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