Page 45 of Shadow and Skulls

When a kitten gets tangled in my hair, he comes to my aid. “You remind me of that Disney princess. You know, the one that loved animals?”

“Don’t they all?”

He chuckles. “I honestly don’t know. I’m not very versed on princesses.”

The kitten must like hair, because as soon as Tank removes him from my head, pulling him to his chest, the kitten snuggles up under his beard. The way his tattooed fingers run through its soft fur makes my stomach tighten.

I continue to watch him pet the tiny creature as I speak. “He made a comment about our age difference.”

“And …” he prompts.

“He … he asked me if I needed someone older to make it work.”Why am I telling him this?!

Tank scoots around to face me, our knees touching. “To make what work?”

“My … my ...” My face burns hot as I try my hardest to keep my heart beating evenly. I nod toward my crotch.

“Why would he think that?” he asks.

Tears begin to drop on the kittens that are now asleep on my lap. When I don’t answer, he slowly begins to put the pieces together.

“Because of your past,” he mutters under his breath.

I love the way he figures it out on his own without me having to embarrass myself further.

Gently, he picks up the kittens, moving them back to their mother. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

We get back on his bike. Thirty minutes later, we pull up to a small trailer in a nearby rural town.

“It’s not much, but it’s mine … for now,” he says, holding the door open for me.

I let my eyes trail over the room before I step inside. It’s simple but clean. “You live here? I thought you were staying at the warehouse.”

He drops his leather cut on the couch. “I’m at the warehouse for now.”

“When are you going to tell them who you are?”

My gaze follows him as he makes his way to the kitchen. He stares into the fridge before reaching in and pulling out two sodas. He brings them back to the couch. I cautiously lower myself beside him, jumping as he cracks open the first can.

“When the job is done. A few weeks maybe.”

He shrugs like it doesn’t make much difference to him. He said himself the club won’t let him stay when they find out he’s been lying to them.

“So, you plan on living here after you tell them?”

He scans the room. “It’s not so bad. I’ve lived in worse.”

I sigh, sinking into the sofa. “That’s not what I’m getting at. Why would you stick around here?”

“For you.”

My eyes widen. “Tank. I’m … they’ll never.”

The green of his eyes darkens. “They let you go out with that little dipshit, didn’t they? They’ll eventually be okay with us.”

“Us?” I laugh, but it fades when he pulls a condom out of his pocket. He dangles it in front of my face.

“I’m thirty-four. That’s a fifteen-year gap if your brain can’t math right now.”

---