Page 39 of Tank

She looks out the window as we pull into the DRMC and park the SUV behind our garages. “I’m not really too sure what to think, Tyson. I’m a good person. I pay my taxes and give to charity and I talk to all the old people in the supermarket and ask how their grandchildren are. I mean, there was that one time that I laughed when a teenager slipped in a mud puddle, but I feel like anyone would have laughed at that. And he had good bones and stuff so I knew he was fine.”

Nitro turns to look at me and blinks once, then twice. “Good luck with that one,Tyson,” the asshole then snickers and gets out of the SUV, slamming the door extra hard.

“Come on, let’s see what this package is.”

She nods, slides her backpack on one shoulder and then scoops her cat up, cradling it in her arms the same way Chewy does with Chomper and the ladies do with their babies.

“Oh, it’s after work time! Everyone will be in. I love it when everyone is in. There’s so many people to talk to and watch. Everyone is having fun.” She turns to me as we walk side by side to the main doors, “That’s what I like most. You must love it. It’d be like living with your family every single day.” She beams up at me and I think through her words.

I know that deep down the DRMC is family, but it’s only really just started feeling like since Chewy crashed into our lives. Before then we would call ourselves a family, but it was more like a frat house. A place for us to crash when we arrived stateside. Safe, people that understood what it’s like to readjust, and businesses we could all work. Since the addition of Chewy, the Tombs’, the Death Riders, all the Ol Ladies and now the kids, now it feels more like a family.

Clearing my throat, I think of the best way to put my thoughts into words. “I never really had much of a family, just me and my gramps. Now I have nieces and nephews and brothers and uncles. Shit, even a bunch of little sisters that run riot in there. “It’s,” I swallow, “It’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Her eyes twinkle at my sharing my thoughts, and I love when she smiles softly, not needing me to elaborate or explain. She just gets me. I hold her gaze for a moment, then the door bangs open.

“Hey Tank, hey Mira. Whoa, that’s a fat cat!” Sage calls in her sweet voice. Niko follows behind her looking a hell of a lot bigger than the day he turned up with his three siblings in tow.

“Hey Bigs, where are you going?” I ask, moving my bulk aside so they can get past.

“Sage has cheer squad and I have football practice. Before you ask, Takoda is off spying duty and is on drop off and pick up.” He grins at me on his way past.

I’m not even going to bother asking how he knows what the prospects are up to. Kid has grown up with an investigator mother, and now a security expert father. He knows how to ferret for information. Shit, even his younger siblings are experts at it. He slaps me on the shoulder and I just smile and shake my head at him. Sage is a lot sweeter as she rests her hand on my forearm and moves past. She doesn’t pay me too much attention, probably because her eyes are on Takoda this whole time.

“OOhhhh, I see what’s happening there,” Mira whispers as she watches the trio head for the SUV.

I catch her eye. It’s so nice to not tower too much over a woman. I can look at Mira without getting a crick in my neck. “What do you think is happening there?”

“Well, that girl has one hell of a crush on that barman biker. Maybe one day she’ll go to college and then when she comes back all grown up she’ll meet him again. He’ll be all burly and weathered and have had some type of biker trauma. Ooooh maybe he lost a leg in a shootout! And now he’s got bad self esteem or something because he used to be a ladies’ man and now all the shallow women are all like ‘ew! A one legged biker!’ and it will be all up to Sage to show him his worth through her love.” Her fat cat yawns and jumps out of her arms, making its way into the clubhouse as she lets out a sigh and stares up at me with dreamy eyes.

I stare back at her, not sure whether to kiss her or run. On one hand her brain and her imagination have me in awe. She’s talented, clever and colorful. On the other hand I will never be able to live up to the men in her imagination and that scares the hell out of me. I like her, like really like her. I can see us spending time together talking about books and her methods, and justmaybe I could get back into my writing. Nothing as serious as hers, of course, but as a hobby it’s a great outlet for my thoughts and worries and stresses.

“Sorry Biker Man, did I freak you out?”

I stare at her a beat longer and think, “Fuck those imaginary men,” before slamming my lips onto hers.

Mira

Holy shitballs! Yes, that’s right I am cursing! But it’s in my head so it doesn’t matter and Nana won’t even know what’s happening. Just like she won’t know that right at this very moment the very hot, very sweet Tank has his firm lips on mine. After the initial shock that his mouth was touching my mouth I felt myself lean into his strong, hard body. His large hands move to cup my cheeks and he softens the kiss, gently nibbling at my lips drawing a moan from me. Taking that as a sign his tongue runs along my bottom lip, seeking entrance. Even trying to get his tongue into my mouth he’s a total gentleman. I sigh, my tongue meeting his as I melt into him.

He angles my head and deepens the kiss. I feel it all the way to my toes, butterflies going wild in my stomach. He pulls back slightly, sipping from my lips. I expect him to step back, maybe apologize or tell me he made a mistake, but instead he pulls me into him and wraps his arms around me.

“Thank you, Doll.”

I have no idea what he’s thanking me for, or really what in the hell just happened then, but I like it. A lot. I like him a lot. I like hearing about his inner thoughts. I know that he probably doesn’t share them much and I’m not sure why. He has things to say, and things to contribute. Instead, he sits watching, listening. He thinks through what he wants to say, or if he even has anything to say. He’s the exact opposite of me. I’m not sure if it’s because he discredits his own thoughts and opinions, but when he’s with me I want to hear them all. I will always have time to listen.

“You ready to go in?” He asks me and I snap back into the reason I’m here in the first place.

“Oh yeah. Um yup, yes. Yes I am ready. Are you ready?” He grins down at me and shakes his head and chuckles.

“Definitely.”

I take a deep breath and lead the way into the clubhouse, Tank holding the door open for me. Everyone seems to be hanging out in the common room. All the Tombs’ are here, which makes sense because I’ve noticed they congregate wherever Mama Debs is, with her ever present apron and the delicious food smells emanating from the kitchen. The little kids are all on the couch taking turns petting Mrs. Mac, the Ol Ladies are at the table in the corner that seems to be where they always sit and the brothers are spread out between the couches and the bar.

“There she is!” Chewy stands, pointing directly at me causing the room to go silent. Crickets.

My pulse starts to rise and I want to hide somewhere. Anywhere. I hate being the center of attention. It reminds me of all the times I played the lobster during the Nativity play and all the adults laughed. The memory of how awful that was twists up my bowels and I need to disappear. Figuring standing behindTyson would be a great hidey hole, I slide slowly behind his bulk, hoping that no one noticed me.

“Ah, Doll? They can all see you,” Tyson’s choked voice says. I just know he’s trying to hold his laughter in.

---