Tank: Apaches MC

by Stephens, Olivia

  “You have no right to come in here and tell me to do anything, Tank! Not after what you did to Carmen. Were you just using me to add another hit to your list? Or was I just a fun bedding you could brag about to your boys?”

  He meets my eyes. I can see the anger boil over in him. His wavy hair seems to stand on end, and his eyes bulge as he cries out, “How many times do I have to tell you that I had nothing to do with your roommate?”

  “Yeah? Then what the fuck is this?” I hand him the picture that has become crumpled up in my hand. I watch as he studies it closely, but his face doesn’t change. There is no glimmer of recognition or sign of defeat. It’s as if he’s seeing the image for the first time as well.

  His voice is lower and softer when he finally speaks. “You think this is me?” he asks, practically in a whisper.

  Anthony beats me to it, his impatience finally coming out. “Yeah, you asshole. You’re nothing but a cowardly little bastard to attack my sister like that.”

  “This isn’t me.”

  “What?” I ask, more annoyed now than ever. “The tattoo is yours! You just showed it to me a few hours ago.”

  Tank reaches for his collar and pulls down his jacket. Underneath, he is still wearing one of his endless supplies of tight black shirts. He rolls up the sleeves so that I can see the same tattoo again. This time, he added, “Yeah, it’s the same tattoo, but look closely at it. That picture has the two feathers apart. That’s because we changed the tattoos a few years ago. All my guys got them updated to match the new logo. There’s only one guy out there who still has the old version of that tattoo.”

  My mouth goes completely dry. “No… Abe?” I whisper

  “Abe,” he confirms, as he pulls down his sleeve.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Anthony looks at us accusingly. We’re calling out his leader; he obviously feels obligated to react.

  “Anthony,” I turn back towards him and usher him to sit. “Abe was an Apache years ago. He was even second-in-command, but then he tried to pull a power grab and the guys kicked him out. But he still has the Apache tattoo on his arm, but it’s the older version like the one in the picture.”

  “That means—”

  I finish his thought for him, “Abe was the attacker. He did this to Carmen.”

  “No. I don’t believe it.” Anthony has the look about him…that of a man completely in shock, like his world just turned and twisted under him.

  “Believe it, kid,” Tank interjects. “Your leader is taking down your family one by one in order to get you guys to move against me. It’s all about revenge for him, and you’re just a sad, pathetic pawn.”

  “Tank!” I shout. “Go wait for me in my bedroom!”

  “I’m not leaving you alone with him.” Tank puffs up his chest as Anthony, looking more beaten than ever, sinks back into the couch.

  I place my hands on his chest and push him backwards. “You can either wait for me, or you can leave. Don’t make me call the cops.”

  He looks just like a sulking child as he hunches his shoulders and turns down the hallway. I watch as the door slams, and I hear him fall down into my bed. I’ll have to deal with him later. Right now, Anthony and I need to make a plan.

  “Abe… I can’t believe that Abe could… I mean, why would he pick her?” Anthony’s head buries deep into his palms, as he shakes it in disbelief. I run to his side, placing my arm around him. “This is all my fault,” he sighs.

  “It’s not your fault. You had no idea that he could sink this low. I didn’t know either. And part of me thinks he picked Carmen to get me to pay attention to him. This is as much my fault as anybody’s.”

  “What are we going to do, Sierra? I can’t go back to the clubhouse—not knowing this at least. And what about my kids? My wife? What about Carmen?”

  “Don’t worry about Carmen. I’ll make sure she’s safe. But right now, what we need to do is decide what the next step is. I think you should go to the cops. Ask for immunity and protection. Then get out of town. If you need some money, I’ve got enough to get you and the kids on a plane somewhere far from here.” It was my inheritance from my father. I hadn’t touched it since he died. It was all blood and drug money in my mind.

  “Sierra, I don’t know if I can do that.” His voice is collapsing in on itself, as he begins to realize just what has to be done.

  I rub my palm lightly on his back, soothing him. “I know, I know. But think about Carmen. She deserves justice. And Abe needs to be taken down before he pulls another stunt. Please, Anthony. At least tell the cops that Tank knows.” I think back to the hospital, the day we left for Mexico. Tank has connections that could make this much easier on Anthony to get out of this.

  Minutes pass, as Anthony sits heavy with his thoughts. He breaks the silence when he sighs and says, “I’ll do it…for Carmen.”

  I stand and walk towards the bedroom, explaining to Tank that we need to get Anthony and his family to the cops so he can get Abe under some heat. Tank scribbles down a cell number and hands it back to me. “Tell him to call Thompson and tell him that Tank sent him. He’ll get him through the system fast enough.” I thank him quietly and go to turn, but he reaches out and grabs my arm. Pulling out his wallet, he hands me a roll of cash. “The kid is gonna need it if he is gonna get away from this mess. Give it to him.”

  Anthony leaves out the back of my apartment with the cash and the number. And I’m left with this feeling that I had signed my own death sentence.

  Chapter 17: Out of Order

  “I’ve…I’ve got to go see Carmen. I’m sorry.” Sierra walks back into the bedroom like a complete zombie. She barely gives me a glance as she starts to pack an overnight bag.

  “Like hell you are,” I say as I stand up. “Do you know what’s about to happen here? Your boy Anthony is going to snitch on his leader and the word is going to get out within the hour. Every Aztec is going to be out on the hunt for anyone remotely related to Anthony. And if any of his boys knew that he was going to see you or that he had that picture of Abe, you’re in hunting season.”

  Her eyes grow wide; I can practically see the fear seep out of her. “Then I have to go see Carmen,” she insists. “Tonight. I have to make sure she is okay.” She begins frantically stuffing clothing into the bag. I catch her as she walks towards the bathroom, pulling it out of her hand. She is trembling and cold.

  “You’re not going anywhere. Carmen is in the safest place she can be. No one is going to touch her while she is in that hospital. What I’m worried about is you.”

  “Jesus, Tank. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. If I would have believed you in the first place, Anthony wouldn’t have snitched, and your dumb clubs would have fought it out on your own without getting any of us involved even further.” Tears stream down her face, and I can practically trace the line of mascara falling in black puddles across her rosy cheeks.

  I reach across her and grab the blue tissue box. She gratefully takes a handful and begins dotting her face and nose, making an even bigger mess of it. I reach towards her head, steadying it in my hand as I lick the thin paper and then place it to her face. The black stains don’t disappear completely, but they fade as I gently rub and dab at her skin.

  “Why are you being so nice to me? Why are you even here? After the fight tonight, I thought I would never see you again.”

  “Because,” I find myself answering, “I wanted to make sure you’re safe. For whatever reason, maybe the Mexican sun melted my brain when we fucked in the desert, I care that you’re out of danger. And you seem to have a knack at getting caught up in action you don’t belong in.”

  She snorts as she chokes back her remaining tears. Her face brightens in a soft, tired smile with the whites of her teeth beaming through her pink, glossy lips. This is my cue to let go of her, to move back and let her lay in that bed. But I don’t. I hold on even tighter.

  Sierra pushes herself back into me, laying her body against my chest. Her head swivels u
pwards and then I feel her lift. She kisses me, hard. It’s unlike any of our other embraces. It’s fast, passionate, and full of need. I stumble backwards towards the wall as our heads and mouths race to line up with one another.

  My hand reaches behind me and smacks away the pictures and makeup sitting out on the top of a dresser I’ve landed on. She doesn’t even stop to take notice as it comes crashing down to the floor one by one. Instead, she tugs hard at my shirt until it comes free from my belt. I lift my arms above my head, as she scratches my skin as she yanks it free.

  Sierra stands back and takes me in. Her chest caves in with each deep, rushed breath, and her hands reach towards mine as her fingers race up my arms, swirling over the tattoos and marks and up towards my shoulders. Her lips find mine once more as I let her take over. Our heads spin and twist, wrestling with the need to come up for air.

  Her hands travel back down towards my pants where my cock is already growing firm and tight. She lingers there, placing pressure with her palm on the folds of my pants. She’s searching for a reason to go on, and I want to give it to her. My cock springs up against the fabric of my pants in reply, as it greedily asks her to find it.

  She loosens her grip and sinks down towards the ground. Her hand that was wrapped around my neck follows slowly across my bare chest and past my hard nipples. She squeezes my pecs as if she’s exploring me all over again with every bit of her body. When her hands make it down to my hips, I watch in wonder as she begins her dance. Sierra slowly, centimeter by centimeter unzips my pants and lowers them past my pale thighs, my knees, my calves, my ankles. I still am wearing my gray boxer briefs, but she doesn’t mind.

  I groan hard, as she finds the outline of my cock and places her mouth around it. Through the thin cotton of my underwear, I can feel her warm, wet mouth wrap around my muscle, as it pulsates excitedly. Her head moves up and down the length and down towards my balls where her hand mysteriously appears again. They tug and tease slightly at the mounds while she continues to blow on the base of my shaft.

  My hands wrap around the wood of the dresser I’m leaned up against as I watch Sierra wrap her hands under the black band of my briefs and pull them down. My cock comes flying out of its nest already hard and eager to go. But her earlier tease is not enough for her. She places her lips to the tip of my cock where moisture has already formed. Without fear or a pause, she kisses at the pool of pre-cum, and I can feel her tongue circle around the hole, lapping at the remainder.

  When she has gotten every last drop of me, her mouth begins to place wet kisses around the shaft, following the path of my purple and blue veins that are now bulging with anticipation. Her lips and the flick of her tongue tickle me, but I remain completely still, savoring the hot air she is mixing with the moisture from the line of her thin lips.

  As she hits the bottom, she opens her mouth wide. Her tongue appears, and it circles the base of my dick, hidden beneath my hairs. Her head twists around so that every part of my member is covered by the red, bumpy tongue. Sierra’s hand replaces where her mouth was at the bottom so that when she reaches the top, she takes the tip of my cock back in between her lips, and her hand begins to pump.

  I’m not normally a hand job kind of guy. A girl just can never get the right speed for me to be satisfied. But Sierra is different. Her slow, deliberate strokes—mixed with how she lightly sucks at my cock’s opening—is sensational. I draw my head back towards the wall and lean further into the old wood dresser as she takes hold of me. Her inhales and exhales line up perfectly with the quickening strokes that slightly twist out of the way when they hit her jaw.

  I can’t help but let out a gasp of her name. “Sierra!” I call as my hand travels towards her hair, picking up a long strand of it and twisting it in my fingers. “Fuck! You’re amazing at this.”

  Her brown eyes dash up to mine, taking me in as I stand in rapture of her fluid motions. Her eyelashes bat, as she goes back to the job, but this time, I want to help out. I slowly push her head down towards the rest of my cock. She obeys, but it is reluctant. It forces her hand to move out of the way. But I don’t let her argue with me; instead, I add more force.

  Her mouth opens wider, as I jut my hips out towards the direction of her head in my hands. I can tell that she is hesitating. Though she’s sucked my dick before, it was on her terms and she could just barely get the entirety of me inside of her. This time, I am going to claim her dirty, sweet mouth as my own. I watch her carefully, as she takes my shaft in small gulps. It disappears into the cavern of her mouth, as I feel the very edges of the back of her mouth.

  When her lips touch the skin at the bottom of my cock, I pull out of her. She gasps for air, but then goes in for more. This time, I don’t need to push as hard or reassure her that she can do it. She deep-throats me like I’m a man half my size. And this time, she adds the curl of her long tongue to heighten the sensation.

  Her fingers rest in between my thighs as she plays gingerly with my balls. During her breaks to stretch her jaws, she sinks towards my knees and kisses the underside of the sensitive skin. It sends shivers down my spine, and my breath begins to tumble with hers, as she picks up where she left off at top speed once again.

  I know all too well what is coming. That tightening in my chest and that feel as if every bit of me is about to explode outwards is all too familiar. I look down at her and whisper urgently, “I’m going to cum soon. Let me cum on your chest.”

  “No,” she answers shortly. “I want this.”

  Her mouth dives back in, this time speeding up in short, fast strokes that take me way over the edge. My arms rattle underneath me as they try to support my weight. My feet curl up so that I’m standing only on my heels, and I pray silently that the dresser that’s holding me doesn’t give out. It’s all I can do to prepare myself for what is about to come.

  A wave of warmth washes over my bare skin as I gasp. My lips open, sucking back air in time with my cock releasing its cum. Sierra’s mouth clamps down around the shaft so that it all lands on her waiting tongue. It all comes slowly, pouring itself, as if it knows she wants to enjoy this moment. When I finish thrusting against her lips, she smiles and swallows slowly. It’s a sight that not many women have let me experience before.

  I fall to my knees before her, completely exhausted and spent. She pulls me into her chest and kisses the part in the middle of my mess of hair. I lower down to her outstretched legs so that I can now be the one looking up at her. Her brown hair falls down around my face and chest as she peers at me from above. “How was that?” she asks demurely, as she brushes it away.

  “Perfect” is all I can seem to answer. There isn’t a better way to express what she has just accomplished.

  We both remain in our spots as perfectly still as we can be. So still that our breathing seems to magically line up. My heartbeat responds to the feel of hers against the back of my head. Every once in a while, I feel her body twitch anxiously, but she readjusts quickly, then come back to rest.

  I don’t know how long we lay there before her sing-song-voice breaks through the dead air of the empty apartment. “I don’t know if I have said it, but I wanted to thank you for helping. After tonight and the stuff with Anthony, I don’t know what I would do without you here.”

  I smile back up at her wickedly. “You always thank me after we mess around.”

  She sticks her tongue out at me. “I do not! And way to ruin the mood, Tank!”

  “You do, too! You said it after that night in Mexico. Maybe you thought I didn’t hear you, but you totally said ‘Thank you, Tank.” It was a memory that stuck with me. No one had ever thanked me for anything in my adult life. But then again, I didn’t do many favors for anyone either.

  “You’re sure a jerk, you know that?” Sierra says, as she hits me playfully on the shoulder.

  I sit up on my arms and line my face up with hers as she leans against the bedpost. “Would a jerk do this?” Without her being able to stop me, I reach for the thin straps
of her purple, striped dress and pull them down past her elbows.

  She instantly grabs at the fabric as if she can hide from me.

  “How about this,” I continue, this time pulling the straps all the way off of her arms and exposing her white, strapless bra. She lets out a yelp that sends me reeling. I put an arm around her waist and hoist her into the air using my shoulder.

  “Tank! Put me down!” she cries, as I spin her around.

  “Okay! As you wish, my lady.” I set her down against the dresser, her stomach resting up against the top, which is still littered with the few items that didn’t fall the first time I grabbed at it. With her unable to stop me, I reach under her dress and pull down the thin panties she’s wearing. I can feel the moisture through the fabric. That blowjob turned her on just as much as it did me.

  My hand caresses her bare ass as she wiggles under me, trying to escape my grasp. But the more I see of her flesh, the more I know I’m not playing around. I kneed at the round curve of her before landing my hand with a smack on her tan skin. Her ass vibrates with the sting as she screams out in shock. I don’t give her time to recover before I hit her again, this time on the opposite cheek twice in a row.