by Jaci J
“Could you hand me another?” Reaching into the cooler I pull her out another beer. Reclined in a lounger Adirondack chair. Lil leaned back against my chest. The fire smoldering. The crew hanging around. Lil's hanging off to my side talking to Peaches. They're both laughing and chattering. The sound of Lil's laughter settles somewhere deep in my heart. “Will you stop tryin' to get me drunk.” Lil stops her chatting and gives me a dramatic eye roll. Lemonade.” She can't blame a guy for trying. Putting the beer back I pull her out another lemonade. Gin comes walking over, smashing his wrapped fists together. I can see Rampage over on the other side of the yard jumping around acting like a caged fucking animal. “Swear to God Rampage you fuck his pretty face up I'll kill you,” Peaches hollers over to Rampage. He only waves her off and continues his insistent hopping. Fucker is making me dizzy from all the bouncing. Lil leans her back against me. “I hate when they do this,” she states. Well she's really not going to like it here in a minute. Gin hops up into the old gym ring. I've no idea where that old decrepit thing came from. It's been here as long as I have. Both of them touch fits. “Bow down bitch,” Rampage chuckles. Gin shakes his head and grumbles, “you're a fuckin' idiot.” This makes Rampage laugh more. “May be the case, but I'm the idiot that's 'bout to land ya on your ass sucka.” Gin throws a punch and gets a good crack at Rampage's jaw. Gin's a tough dude. He and I go rounds it's a fair fight. But we are talking about Rampage here. A motherfucker who's had to fight for his life his entire childhood. Spent a good deal of time locked up and fighting. He's the toughest motherfucker I know. “That all ya got bitch?” Rampage jibs Gin. And with that Rampage lands Gin on his ass. Rampage throws his hands in the air, smiles, and says, “Ding! Ding! Bitch, I win!” Doing his little stupid dance he points at me. “You're next my friend.” Spinning around Lil gives me a mean little glare. Those beautiful brown eyes spitting fire. There's my baby. I've no doubt I'd much rather fight Rampage then Lil any day. I'd never win against my little love, because she's one bad fucking bitch.
Lil
I woke up cold and alone in Tanks bed. I vaguely remember Tank kissing my forehead before leaving, and saying something about taking his truck due to rain, but I'll be damned if I can remember anything else he said. Stripping off Tanks tee I take a quick shower. Leaving my hair wet I style my hair curly. Curly means I do nothing to it, which means by the time it dries it'll be wild. Oh well. Throwing on some nice jeans, a white tank, and a gray cardigan, I round out my look by some cute gray TOMS. Slap on a little makeup and I'm ready. Yesterday I'd gotten a long awaited email form an old Professor offering me a head teacher’s assistant job at my old college in the History department. Completely torn, but smart enough to know that this is a once in a life time offer I set up a meeting today with him. I had tried to tell Tank, but every time I'd try to talk to him something would come up. He'd be too busy or preoccupied. And after that little fighting stunt I was a little too mad to tell him. I don't want to leave him, but then again this is an amazing opportunity. I guess its better I hear what the offer is before I go and tell Tank and possibly piss him off for no reason. Who knows it could be something I'm not interested in. Grabbing up my purse I head for my Jeep. Getting in I fire it up. Digging through my purse for my phone I come up empty handed. Well shit. I left it in Tanks truck last night after it had died. Damn it. Turning off the jeep I run back inside and try to call him. Listening to it ring it brings me to his mailbox, which of course has not been set up. Seriously? I try him again, but get nothing. When I get home I'm setting the stupid thing up for him. I've no idea what his burner number is so I try Gin instead. And of course I get nothing. And guess what? No fucking mailbox either. I don't know anyone else's numbers off hand. Forget it. Heading out I figure I'll be back before him anyways. I feel bad for not letting Tank know, but since he's unreachable I really have no other choice, because I'm not missing this meeting. The two hour drive isn't too terrible. Pulling into the city a slight pang of home sick hits my gut. I forget how much I love the city. Driving down my old street I pass my apartment. It's empty and waiting for me, how sad. Pulling into the History buildings lot I try to stamp down my excitement. Walking inside I go to Professor Wagner's office. “Come on it,” he calls as soon as I knock. Walking into the office my old teacher beams at me. “Ms. Lilly Cruz. I'm so glad you could make it in. How has one of my favorite students been?”
Ten minutes out from the compound I can't keep the excited energy contained. I've been bouncing in my seat the entire drive home. Mr. Wagner had all but offered me my dream job. Besides being the head Professor, it's the next best thing. He'd said he had two more interviews that afternoon, but they were pretty much for show. The University required him at the very least to grant three interviews. He'd said I had the most education and background for the position. Basically I was a shoe in. He'd sent me on my way excited and nervous. The next step was waiting for the phone call. Pulling into the compound I see the guys bikes parked out front. Okay so I didn't beat Tank back. Hopping out of the Jeep I head in bringing my thrilled energy with me. As soon as I'm through the front doors I know shit has hit the fan. Usually when you walk in its loud. People chatting. The noise from the shop drifting around. Pool balls crashing into one another. Music. When I walk in its dead silence. All eyes in the room swing in my direction. Oh shit, I'm in trouble. My thrilled energy dies at the front door. “Jesus Christ Lilly,” Stitch grumbles his head in his drink he won’t even look at me. Lilly? Tank's big hard mean body storms around the corner. His face filled with a rage I've never seen before. It's a rage that actually scares me a little. If I'd never felt his tenderness before I'd say he's a hateful person by the look on his face right now. Phone in one hand, gun in the other. Gin on his heels, Happy on Gin's. “Where the fuck you been Lilly?” Tanks cold mean voice hits my ears from across the room. His body rigid. Not only did my excitement die at the door Tank just stomped all over it. “God fuckin' damn it,” Gin clips shoving his phone is in his pocket. Looking around everyone's still staring at me. The room filled with hushed silence. A silent electricity in the air as everyone waits for the epic show down. “You better answer me,” Tank warns. His voice is quiet. His lack of volume doesn't make it any less frightening. “I went into the city.” Taking a step towards me his posture stays strong and unforgiving. “You went to the city,” he repeats stupidly. His tone holding a mocking hint to it. “Yes. What’s the problem?” Narrowing his eyes he regards me shrewdly. I can feel the belittlement from his stare without him even saying a word. I feel six inches tall. Looking over at Gin he says, “She went into the city.” Gin shakes his head in disappointment. Okay I've had enough of the show. “I don't understand what the fuckin' problem is.”
Holding onto my arm Tank shoves me into his room. His hand gripping my arm tight. His touch becoming painful. The backs of my legs hit the bed causing me to sit instantly. He lets go of me with a little shove towards the bed. “What the hell's your problem?” Slamming the door violently the window rattles and a picture falls from the wall. Hitting the ground with a thud the glass cracks down the middle. With his back to me I can see his shoulders moving as he takes deep breaths. The tendons in his arms bunched and strained. Fists balled his knuckles red and swollen. “Seriously what the fuck's goin' on?” Turning menacingly slow he stares at me. Eyes unfocused and wild. “What the fucks goin' on?” he restates, his tone confused. Why does he keep repeating me? “Yes.” For a beat he doesn't say anything, and then he explodes. “You fuckin' disappear. Show back up n' all you got to say is 'you went to the ... FUCKING CITY!'” He roars. Throwing his phone it hits the wall with a shatter. “You walk your God damn ass in here like shit ain't a big deal. I've been runnin' 'round like a fucking PSYCHO!” he yells psycho and pulls on his hair. “Lookin' for my girl. Scared shitless somethin' happened to you.” Going to stand up Tank points at the bed. “Sit the fuck down.” Is her serious? “Excuse me.” Kicking a chair out of the way it slides into the dresser with a thud as he stalks t
owards me. “Shits goin' down around here. People out lookin' for your ass. You fuckin' fall and hit that pretty fuckin' head of yours baby?” Shaking my head I just stare at him. “You, outta any of these stupid fuckin' bitches round here should know how this shits gunna go. We got issues, shits on lock down. Remember what lock down is Lil?” he asks me meanly. His tone says he's not looking for an answer, but looking to make me feel stupid. “That means no runnin' around alone. No hangin' outside alone. No runnin' into town alone. Nothin' ALONE. Especially no fuckin' day trips into the city alone. So I'm gunna ask you again. Did your ass fall down and hit your head?” Pointing right at me, breathing heavy, eyes ready to kill. I'm not scared. I'm not intimidated. In fact I'm pissed the fuck off. “No, but if you don't back the fuck up and outta my face it's goin' to be your ass that falls down and hits your head.” Throwing his head back he laughs. It's a depraved crazy kind of a laugh. “You don't give a fuck 'bout me. No call. No text. Not a God damn thing. Fuck at least I would have known. At the very least I wouldn't have felt fuckin' sick with worry.”
Pushing off of the bed I stalk towards him. Reaching my hand into his pocket I pull out his phone while he stares at me like I've lost it. The phone he didn't answer when I did called. Pacing away from me breathes heavily shaking his head. Opening it up I pull up the missed calls. Scrolling to my calls I hold the phone up for him to see. “Called your hard headed ass. TWICE! I called Gin. TWICE!” I scream holding up two fingers. “You have no voice mail. So couldn't leave a message. Why didn't I text? Hmm, maybe because you took off in the middle of the God damn night with my DEAD phone in your truck. Why didn't I call the burner? Because you never gave me the fuckin' number ASSHOLE!” Staring at me blankly I throw the phone at him. Hitting him hard in the chest it too falls to the ground with a crack. Now he's out two phones, prick. “So fuck you. I had shit to handle. So I handled it. You're not around so I did what I had to do.” Fucking asshole. I walk in and he wants to fly off the handle without explanation. Yeah we're on lock down I get that. But I'm not about to live my life in fear of what’s around every unforeseen corner. I'm not hiding away. Sure if the guys around I'll take someone with me. They weren't here so I did what I had to. I'll be damned if I let the unknown rule my life. And I'll be God damned if I let Tank rule it for me. “You tryin' to get yourself hurt little girl?” he growls at me throwing his cut down on the bed. Instantly I know he's not talking about others hurting me. He's referring to himself. The contained strain and rage in his stance tells me he's barley hanging on. For some reason I just can't seem to dredge up any give a damn. He can go to hell. He wants to put his hands on me. He'll be getting it right back. “Go ahead lay your hands on me,” I challenge. Spinning around he puts his fist through the wall. Dry wall and plaster crumble to the floor. “Fuck!” With a final roar he storms by me slamming the door with enough force to make the wood by the hinge crack. The door sags, leaving a gaping space enough to see his retreating back. “Fuck you!”
Tank hasn't been back. It's been a few hours now. I waited around in his room for about thirty minutes. After that I got the fuck out of there. Left out the back door, but not before getting my phone from his truck. I didn't bother to look for his bike so I've no idea if he's at the compound or not. I couldn't go to my dad's place, guess why? Tank has my fucking keys. So I went to Tanks. For the first few hours I was mad as fuck. Now I'm mildly annoyed. Sitting on his couch I watch reruns of Lockup. I've no idea why. This show is depressing, but it's addicting. After four episodes my newly charged phone rings. My heart does a little dive. Looking at the screen I see it's an unknown number. I answer it anyways. “Hello?” A man's voice comes through the line. “Ms. Cruz it's Mr. Wagner. I've got good news.” The phone call goes well. My excitement slowly returning. “Thank you Mr. Wagner. I look forward to talking with you next week.” Hanging up the phone I turn around and my excitement dies all over again. Tanks standing by his front door. That rage nowhere in sight. He looks crushed. “You're just leavin', yeah?” Taking a step towards him he just shakes his head sadly. “Not exactly. It's a good opportunity. I'm figuring it all out.” My heart constricts painfully. The look on his face heartbreaking. “I get that shit. Thought what we had was good, guess I thought wrong huh.” I try to think of something to say because truly I don't want to leave, but I also don't want to give up my dream. All of a sudden his face hardens. “Waist of my fuckin' time. Put time into that shit. Put heart into that shit. That shit ain't worth my fuckin' time.” Brushing past me he goes into his room. “You ain't worth my time.” My heart hurts. I feel tears rush to my eyes. That hurt the worst. Walking back out he heads for the front door without a word. Opening the front door he leans on it. “Get out,” he clips harshly. He doesn't even let me explain. Doesn't hear me out. He doesn't even care about my feelings in this whole situation. Walking past him I step on to the porch. I feel like I'm in a daze. I search for words, but everything is a jumbled mess. With a slam he pulls the door closed behind me. Grabbing his arms lightly I wrap my fingers around his wrist. “Tank,” Jerking his arm away from me he gives me one final look of disgust before turning on his heels. I watch him get on his bike. My chest tight. Stomach in knots. A cold chill settles over my body. Tears rush my eyes, trailing my cheeks. He's done with me over nothing. Cranking his bike up he pulls away without a backwards glance.
16
Tank
Riding off I left her on my porch alone and vulnerable to anyone. I lost my shit. I couldn't fucking look at her without doing or saying something I'd regret. First her disappearing and now this shit. Don't want to hurt her, but fuck did I want too right then. Had to get as far away from her as I could. Bitch was leaving. Just up and fucking leaving. Right out the motherfucking door. No plans of staying here after she was done helping Low. Just like that, done with me. That shit isn't okay. That girl is mine. She might as well have punched me in the fucking stomach. Better yet she should have fucking shot me. I just fucking lost my shit. I left big brown uncertain eyes staring up at me. I couldn't look at her anymore. It hurt too damn much. I need her. She belongs to me. I own that shit. I love that girl and she doesn't feel the same, so I split. I heard everything. She got a job back in the city, she's leaving. That one phone ended it all. The ride isn't helping. I'm fucking pissed and confused as fuck. The road putting distance, but the pain still settles in my heart. I put my shit out there. Gave that girl whatever she wanted and she's just going to up and leave? Just leave me? I've no clue how to handle this shit. This feeling foreign. My hearts beating the shit out of my chest. My hands fisted and antsy. Anger and adrenaline pump through my veins. First motherfucker gets in my way I'm breaking bones. Pulling into the club the nightly party is in full swing. I need to get lost. Get fucked up. Music pours through the speakers. Smoke clouds the air. Bitches on the bar, bitches dancing around a pole. Brothers hanging around. Walking behind the bar I go for a bottle of Jack. Throw the shit back like my life depends on it. “What the fuck you doin' here?” Gin hollers from the end of the bar. One look and he fucking knows. I'm shit at keeping my emotions in check. Especially shit with Lil. That girl just fucks with me in the worst way. “What the shit happened?” I'm not about to get into it with him over Lil. He's my brother, but he's also loves Lil. I'll never win this one. He has her back, shit, like everybody in this club. “Don't,” I warn him. Right now I'm tasting blood, he don't back the fuck off it's his I'll be spilling. “Dude where is she?” he asks, starting to sound a little pissed. Walking away from him before I get upset he grabs my shoulder stopping me. Instantly the fight in me bursts. Fuck this dude. Before I can swing Stitch steps between us. “Why the fuck ya two fightin?” Looking between the two of us he looks confused. Pushing past the both of them Gin keeps fucking running his mouth. “Where's Lil at?” Her name makes me fucking mad. Makes my blood boil. “You've fucked up brother. You left her alone. Left my fuckin' sis alone?” Gin starts throwing out accusations. “Jesus Christ Tank,” Stitch adds his two cents in. Worry starts
to worm its way in. Fuck that noise. I shove that shit down, drawn it with some Jack and a few lines. Fuck Lil.
I've fucking lost it. Drunk and high as fuck. Not sure I could walk straight if I tried. My ass planted on the old leather couch in the club a bitch in my lap and one on a pole. Bottle in my hand, coke blocking my thoughts out. Gin took off probably to rescue poor little Lil. “You like that baby?” the blonde bitch in my lap asks grinding her ass into my dick. No I don't fucking like it. “Shut up bitch, and just do what you do.” I'm not talking to this cunt. Don't give a flying fuck what she has to say. “Somebody needs their dick sucked,” the blonde gash giggles. Sitting here the anger stews. Shits not getting better, if anything it's getting worse. The blondes grinding on me, licking my neck and I have no fucking interest. Shit pisses me off. Fifteen minutes later this girl is still at it. Face in the girls tits when I hear it. “What the fuck man,” Gin barks from the door way. Looking up I find those innocent brown eyes looking at me. The devil in them brown beauties. I've never felt a look before. This one fucking hurt. Felt it to my soul. Those eyes broken, lost, devastated, and mad as fucking hell. Backing up she shakes her head once. That shit sobers me right up. I hate the bitch for making me feel like this. I hate her for making me love her. I lose it. I've no idea how to handle her. I thought I knew what I was doing. I've no fucking idea. “C'mere Lil,” I call for her. Needing to fix this shit, I try the first thing that pops into my head. Her eyes widen, but she doesn't move. “Now!” I bark at her. My voice makes her flinch, but she stays rooted. “Fuck no,” she whispers harshly. She's not that scared of me if she's willing to defy me. Fuck it, she don't want to come to me she can fuck off. My mind hazy and in a fury. I watch her square her shoulders ready to throw down with me. She wants to go rounds with me, I'm game babe. “What baby you upset?” I ask her. I want to hurt her. Make her feel like I do. “You mad about my bitch for the night?” My words make Gin take notice. Standing back up he looks mad. “The fuck you say? Best watch what you say to her.” Wrong move buddy. Sticking his neck out for Lil. He's my brother, but I don't owe him shit. He wants to throw down for her I'll be right here waiting. “Why you fuckin' care 'bout the bitch?” I ask pointing right in her face. She flinches again, but keeps that shit in check. Good little fucking soldier, knows to hold that shit in. Stitch saddles up to Gin. He's ready to throw down for Lil too. We're about the same size but, I've got twenty pounds on him. I won't hesitate to put his ass on the ground. I have a feeling I lay hands on Stitch Lil will be right there. “Like Gin said ya best watch what the fuck ya say,” Stitch adds. This shit makes me laugh. Brothers for years, best friends for eight and there right here for Lil. Shit's fucked up. Every motherfucker in this club falls for this girls shit. I did and look what that got me. “Hey brother it's all good. You can have a turn at her. She's pretty good too. I'm done with that shit now.” Lil gasps and steps back. “Fuck you prick. That's why you love me right?” she spits bitterly. The word love makes me flinch. Fuck her. “What Lil, don't look so fuckin' put out. You were just some pussy. Ready and willin' to give up for me, spread that shit wide and gave it to me. I got mine. Stitch can have a turn at it. I'm sure every brother in here would like a turn with that sweet pussy.” Yeah that one stung didn't baby? That wall around her crumbles. I watch a single tear slides down that soft cheek. I know I've hurt her good. There's no coming back from that.
