Tank

by Trixie Brewster

  “Your sister and Kelsey, huh?” Sake made a comment. When I looked up, he was all smiles.

  “Yeah, guess Kelsey is gonna be my sister-in-law soon.” I gave Snake a wink.

  “Fuck me, and you get the teach. Damn son, how mighty your life is right now.” I knew he was giving me shit, but damn I felt like a million miles tall. I was living up the good life. I had my sister here in Redding with me, and I had my woman. And possibly a new sister soon. Shoot, my little family was getting bigger by the week.

  Chapter 17

  Angie

  “Tell me, Tank, where did you grow up?” I wanted to know some more about the man that was taking up residency in my bed for the past two weeks. The man was sealed uptight. I knew some of the background stories from Molly, but not all of it. I knew that he protected her from a lot of crap. I had never met the perfect big brother of my friend. But I had always respected him for taking care of his sister when things got bad. I had that once, he wasn’t my brother, but he could have been. Then one day, he left me when I needed him the most.

  I knew that their parents fought each other and wound up killing each other. But Molly was a lot younger than what Tank had been. It might not be my place to know anything about him. We both had secrets close to our hearts. Mine was probably a deal-breaker. But nothing he could tell me would let my poor excuse of a heart let go. God, how did this happen, he was only supposed to be a one-night-stand-take-my-mind-off-things.

  Tank wound his fingers through mine and kissed the back of my hand. We had our fun already and were lying in bed naked and tired but very satisfied. He was stalling answering me, I looked over at him. The sad look on his face broke my heart. Rolling over, I hooked my leg over his thigh. Using my free hand, I cupped his cheek. “Hey, it's fine, you don’t have to tell me.” I didn’t want what we had to become sad. If I was honest, I want to keep him, but I had to remind myself that Tank didn’t want me like that.

  “Nah,” he stated with a smile. His smile looked carefree, but his eyes couldn’t hide the sadness and pain that was lurking beneath. “I, well, me and Molly grew up here in Cali, southern California, Bakersfield, to be exact.” I knew where that was, I was also a southern California native. “My parents weren’t the best, Angie, I am sure Molly told you some of it. But she was just a baby when it all happened. I was eight years older. Hell, I was almost grown when the shit hit the fan. Our parents, hell, I don’t even know how they still had custody of us. By the time I was thirteen, I was the sole parent to Molly. Making sure she was fed, bathed, and got the attention she needed.”

  My heart broke for him, he was so young to have to worry about taking care of a child. He would have been almost high school age. Instead of having a life, he was parenting his baby sister. I don’t even know if I could have done something like that. I mean, I am sure if anyone else was in his shoes, they might not have done the same. That says a lot of who this man really was deep down, Tank was a protector and caregiver.

  “Four years later, the parents got into a fight. The fighting was normal for us, every night they fought each other. Sometimes I had to intervene and stop them from killing each other. One night my mother pulled a knife on my father. She was going for his neck, and I had to take the knife away from her. But that night, it was my birthday. I had just turned seventeen. They brought guns out. We didn’t have any weapons like that in the house that I knew of. I didn’t even try to stop them, I took Molly out of the house, and we ran to the park that was a couple of blocks away. We hid there until the police found us a few hours later.”

  He looked like he was lost in thought, remembering that night that everything turned for him. I couldn’t even contemplate what it felt like for either of them. Losing both parents, even if they didn’t deserve that title, still had to hurt. Especially knowing that they killed each other.

  “I was seventeen when it happened, but I couldn’t get sole custody of Molly. So we went into foster care for a year. After that year, I got custody of her. I worked my ass off to make sure that she didn’t go without. The parent units didn’t even leave a penny to us. Nothing. So I worked hard and got an apartment far away from Bakersfield. I moved us to Redding. Raised her until she graduated and got her off to college.”

  I knew there was more, Molly had said something had happened in foster care that scared her as a child. I hated that he had such a rough upbringing. Some people just weren’t meant to be parents. Obviously, Tank’s parents were those people. “How did you get into the Angels and Sinner’s?”

  That brought a genuine smile to his face. “I had turned twenty-three that night, Molly was fifteen and wanted to stay home, alone. I didn’t like it, but she told me to leave, so I did. Anyway, I went into the local bar and got a drink. I met Brick there, I asked him about the cut, and h explained club life to me. I jumped on board right away. Shit got easier, and I found my place fast after I got my patches. Before I knew it, I was the Sergent at Arms for the club. My job is to protect the club, including the families.”

  “You’re a good man, Tank.”

  “Woman ain’t nothin’ good about me.”

  “I disagree, you took care of your sister, you raised her and protected her. You protect your brothers and their families. So I would say you’re a good person.” Stretching up and placing a kiss to his lips to prove my point. I pull away before it gets too heated. I still have a point to prove. I straddle his hips and lean forward to rest my forearms over his chest. “You Tank, are special to more people than you know.”

  He smiles as he rolls us over where I am under him. “Yeah, special ed.”

  “Oh, my god, did you really go there.” Shaking my head, trying to keep the smile from my lips. But fail.

  The smile on his face makes me laugh even more. He crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue.“See, even you know I have my own fuck-ups.” He doesn’t give me a second to recover, his lips connect with my own.

  “Mmmm.” I moan out as his tongue takes over my mouth. This time is a little different than the last, he slowly fills me up, never leaving my lips as he slowly thrust into me. All I have ever had from Tank has been fast and hard fucking. This felt bigger, better, but still missing something. I let him do his slow torturous thrust into me for a few quiet, satisfying minutes. “Tank, I need…”

  “What, babe, what do you need?” He pulls away and pushes up on his arms to thrust deeper into me, still in a slow deep thrust. My back arches on its own accord. The pressure that builds is different from all the times before. “Oh, god,” I yell out as the pressure combust, and I detonate under him. He tenses over me and groans out as I feel his dick twitch and his cum coat me on the inside. My heart and mind have made a decision without consulting with me. I no longer want Tank, I need him. This can not be good for my mental health.

  “Damn, woman, you drain me dry every time.” Giving me another panty-melting kiss before he slides out of me and rolls over, bringing me with him. I tuck into him as he cuddles me. For a biker that doesn’t cuddle, he sure does cuddle relatively good. Within minutes Tank’s breathing evens out, and Sampson makes his entrance and gets comfortable in his place on Tank’s chest.

  There was only one other man that made me feel this safe, and that was my father. It would seem that Tank was competing with my father and winning. Tank made me happy and ready to meet the next day with a smile. This was something that I was new to, there was no other way to describe what I was feeling in my chest. He made me whole, deep within. If he walked away from me in the morning, I don’t think I would be the same. No, I don’t think, I know I would never be the same. Somehow I let my heart get involved, and now I don’t know what to do. Is this love? How the hell did I allow this to happen? I know my father is giving this space to date and find something. But with a badass biker, would he let this go? Or would he take what little freedoms he allowed me? I had a feeling he would go with the latter.

  Going back over the night and the slow sex, brought tears to my eyes, I never had s
oft before, my virginity wasn’t precisely given, not really. I wish I could change back the hands of time. If I could go back and change everything, I would. I had nothing to compare this to, I felt so inexperienced when it came to him. I had a six-years to get over what had happened and didn’t know if I would ever be ready to commit to sex again. But I was glad that I did let Tank in. Pulling back on the emotions, I made a mental note that I needed to visit someone in the morning before work.

  The next morning I leave Tank still asleep in my bed and make my way to the cemetery where a special someone rests. I never got to see him again thirteen years ago. I never really got to know him, but I still came out here to see him when things get heavy. There was something about being able to talk to him. Sure he doesn’t talk back, but I just knew that if he were alive, he would listen to me. He might even give me insight. Why is the world so cruel? I find the headstone easily, the symbol that lays on all of Angels and Sinner's backs is what I see first. The angel and demon locked in a forever dance lets me know that I am where I need to be.

  I made a promise years ago that I would bring flowers, and I do every time I see him. A lone tear slips down my cheek thinking over my past. Shaking my head, I pull myself out; I can't let the past pull me under. There is nothing left for me remembering everything I went through. My therapist said it was okay to laugh, cry, scream, and even feel good when I had sex again. I honestly didn’t think it would happen, I mean I masturbated and found that it felt good three years ago, but I just didn’t want to commit, not until Tank. He did something for me, and I still can’t believe that I just jumped him, but my therapist was right when I finally got ready, and sex was good, then it would be freeing. She told me that I needed to talk to someone and get it out. The only problem I didn’t want to talk to just anyone. There was Molly, but I didn’t want her to look at me with pity. He is the only one that knows what happened to me years ago. I couldn’t let anyone know, too much blood had already been spilled because of my stupidity. There was no reason to have more blood spilled on my account, mainly on account of a stupid young adult.

  Kneeling in front of his headstone, I move the leaves and debris to read what it says. ‘Bear Brigade, Beloved President, husband, and father.’ My personal angel, my saving grace, my own listener. I knew, somehow, I knew that I could trust him with my deep dark secrets.

  “Hey, my Angel. It’s me, Angie.” Taking a deep breath, I begin where my troubles lie. “You know, sometimes I struggle. Especially where my heart is concerned.” I keep pulling at the weeds around his headstone while I talk to him about my troubles. I give it to him. “You know, I am so confused about Tank. I like him like I might love the man. But, I don’t think the feeling is mutual. I don’t know, I feel like I am nothing more than an easy lay to him. I wish I knew how to be more. But I don’t know what to do.” Another tear slides down, and I wipe at it hard and growl out my frustration. I am supposed to be this strong person, at all times. But I don’t feel robust right now. Feeling confused and hurt, what else did I expect, Tank is everything I am not. He is reliable, bold, and handsome and knows where his place in this world is. While I sit in between worlds, not knowing which way I should go, who I can lean on, who I can trust. When did life become so complicated?

  Sitting back on my heels, I let my angel have it. “I don’t know where I belong in this world. All I know is that I am living a lie. I can’t be me, never have been able to be the carefree Angela, I always have to look behind my back and keep my guard up. Why did my da have to chose this life for us? Why did he have to become a monster to keep the other monsters at bay. I don’t get it. I just don’t understand where I stand in this. Only two weeks ago, he gave me the go-ahead to date, and what do I stupidly do? I latch my heart onto the first man to give me attention. Me a twenty-five-year-old woman, who has never been in love before, and I can't even figure out if I am in love or not. And what the hell do I do if I am in love with the man? Do I tell him who my father really is? Then what? Do I tell him everything? Do I watch as he leaves me and fall into a depression because I won't be able to cope without his touch.” Breaking down, I make up my mind to make Tank sit down and talk to me. Maybe I go ahead and tell him everything. Even if I know deep down that like everyone else, he will walk away and hope like hell that my father doesn’t find him and end him too. Before I get up from my place that I kneel at every time I come out here, I press a kiss to my fingers and then to his headstone.

  Three weeks were flying by so damn fast. Tank was perfect. Sure, there is no such thing as an ideal man, but damn that man was near close. He wooed me with food every night. Yes, for three weeks every night, the man came over and stayed until morning. It felt like a good routine, the man may as well live with me. But there was no toothbrush left. He never left anything. When he left in the morning, there was no sign of him being there. It seemed like all we did was have sex and not talk, except for that night last week, but he shut down any deep conversations after that. I didn’t want to be a cum slut. I wanted there to be more. Tonight, was the night that we were going to talk about this, us. I needed to know if he was in it or not. I didn’t want to be used and left behind like yesterday’s garbage. Where my heart laid, it was hard to get a handle on that I might just be something to play with to him. It hurt, but I needed to wake up. I needed to know where we stood. There was no way I was going to keep wasting my time, my love, and my heart on someone who didn’t reciprocate the same feelings.

  “You know, Angie…” Carrie’s soft voice brought me back to reality.

  “Yeah?” I didn’t hear her come into my room. Huh, I must have been in deep thought.

  “I am happy for you. You have something good going for you.” Carrie blushed and looked down at the floor as she talked. I hated that she didn’t have a better backbone. Hell, I wanted to help her get something going right for her too.

  “Yeah, but Care, I don’t even know what it is. We haven’t talked about us or the future. We haven’t even had a real conversation about each other.” I complained to her. I hated the outing all my dirty laundry. But I refuse to talk to my parents about this. Daddy would be disappointed in me. Whoring myself out, why am I locking onto the first man that I saw after my dad told me I could date. Hell, we aren’t even really dating just fucking. Maybe that is how the bikers do this. I knew how Korey and Brick started, but I want more than a fuck. I fucking wanted my happily ever after. Sure, they don’t exist, not really. But I fucking want it. I wanted to stomp my foot and scream to the heavens.

  “Sometimes, people have a hard time conveying their feelings, and they use their bodies to do it. It is not uncommon for men to say they love someone by using their penis, or the way they hold a woman that they love. It could be subtle like hand-holding or placing their hand on the small of their back.” Carrie, my Carrie was talking about sex and using bodies to show love. Damn, I loved having a psychology major as a friend.

  “You think that could be a whole relationship. Just using sex to convey meaning?”

  “Well no, there needs to be some talking, trust, quiet times sure, sex absolutely, but sometimes it is good for the soul to just hug each other and look into each other’s eyes, and let the heart and souls do all the talking.” Carrie raised her hazel eyes to mine. I could see the sadness that I had never seen before.

  “Carrie, did you have someone like that? You know before you came here?” Some emotions came across her face before she covered it again.

  “No, I didn’t.” She gave a weak smile and turned to leave. “Oh, Angie. Just talk to him. I am sure he will listen. When all secrets have been spilled, then a relationship can truly bloom.” With that last piece of advice, she flowed out of the room. My jaw dropped, taking all of the information in.

  Did she know my secret, or was she just talking in general? With that little information, I knew, without a doubt, I had to tell him tonight. There was no other way around it. Maybe that would let me know where I stood with Tank. But it also scared the he
ll out of me. Once anyone knows about my little bomb, most people run the opposite direction. They don’t want anywhere near my family or even want to get to know me. I am guilty by association. When people find out, they judge me by what my father has done. I just know when Tank finds out he will peel me off the bottom of his shoe like everyone else and look at me with disgust.

  I may be a teacher, I may have a decent income and a pleasant condo in a good neighborhood, but the family name that I have changed to get to where I am hurts more than anyone can know. I can’t even use my given last name proudly to show what I have made of myself.

  I am proud of who I am, I just wish I could use my dad’s last name and still get respect. No, when I use that part of me, all I get is fear from the people around me. But surely a Biker could understand that type of stereotyping. I know I get it. Bikers are supposed to all be bad scary people, they are all supposed to be thugs that don’t care about anyone. They are supposed to be evil and criminals. But they aren’t. They are good people, they care about their families, the ones they love and protect. These bikers give back when they can to the community. Just last year, they did a toy drive and raised money for school supplies. The fact of the matter is that these guys care, they are righteous right down to their cores.

  So here I sit waiting on Tank to get to my house when my phone rings. I don’t look at who it is before I speak. “Hey, Babe,” I say.

  “Angela, my little darlin’,” I can hear the panic in his voice, something is wrong. My father never panics, not like this.

  “Daddy, what is it. What is wrong?” So many scenarios are going through my head. Something has happened to Ivan even though he is somewhere safe. The Cartel is back for blood and vengeance. The Grimm’s are back. But nothing prepared me for what he said next.