Page 18 of Tank

“Oookkk. And how exactly did you know about this book -” Pops looks from Marx to Mira for the title.

“To Trap a Kiss-”

“- To Trap a Kiss? Well, Skid Marx?” Pops folds his arms over his chest, staring at Pres, his lips tipping up in the corners.

“I did my research, old man. Wire sent me Mira’s background check and I dove a little deeper.” Wire’s eyes flick to Marx briefly before covering his surprise.

Pops narrows his eyes, staring Marx down and getting nowhere because Marx is one tough motherfucker.

“Whatever shit Marx does or doesn’t know isn’t important. What we need to know is how the hell the sender knew where Mira was to deliver it to her.” Rhodie says, looking around at everyone, Chomper now nestled against his chest.

The room is silent, everyone taking in the new information. Remy comes to stand next to Wire, handing him his laptop. I was so busy watching Mira that I didn’t even notice that she had left the room. We’re all assembled, including the prospects and our wider family - the rest of the Tombs back from Louisiana, Lovely and Blanche and the big kids; the Littles, bored with the drama, have gone to join Debs in the kitchen.

“Jimmy, were you on the gate when this was delivered?” Marx gruffly asks.

“Yes, sir. An older man in a white Honda Civic. Works for a florist in town and was asked to deliver this rather than flowers.”

“Did he say which florist?”

“Yeah, Flora’s Buds,” Jimmy answers with a snicker.

“We did their security install.” Gus says. It’s good to know Flora’s Buds has a Tombs Security system. “We may be able to get a look at the person who ordered the delivery. Jules?”

“I’ll talk to Flora,” Jules says

“Whoa, who are they?” Mira whispers.

“Jules Tombs, pleasure to meet you,” Jules says, winking, fucking winking at Mira. And looking less bitchy than usual. “This is my older, less handsome brother, Gus.”

“I said the inside part out loud didn’t I?” Mira’s wide eyes look around for confirmation, her shoulders slumping as we all nod at her. “Your good looks gave me a brain fart.” Jule’s brows fly to his hairline. “Have you ever thought about modeling for romance covers? You both totally have that alpha hole look going on.”

Both brothers look bewildered, Ana cackles, and across from me Flack frowns and mouths ‘alpha hole’. I have no idea what analpha hole is, but judging by the women swooning, well, all the women except Chewy, an alpha hole must be a good thing.

“You’d be a cinnamon roll hero,” Mira whispers to me, patting my stomach.

Sure, I may not have a lean, hard looking body like Jules or Gus, but I hold my own. Also, what the fuck is a ‘cinnamon roll hero’?

“Thanks for your help Tombs’,” Marx’s gruff voice breaks into my train of thought, putting me and the rest of us back on track. “We need to know who the hell is sending this shit.” Before Mira can speak, Marx holds up a hand, “Not just for you, but by delivering this shit to our home, he’s involved us now. Chewy and Pops, can you two dispose of these remains before fucking Rose Grove PD gets a whiff? With fuck all movement on who tried to frame Tank, we gotta keep our noses clean. I want you all to go about your normal routines until Wire can pull some information we can use.”

“Aye aye Captain!” Chewy salutes. “Elio! We have a lesson!” She calls out to her nephew, stopping to drop a kiss on Chomper’s head, then Rhodie’s lips before carrying on her forward momentum into the kitchen to find Elio.

Tav has his mouth hanging open, as does Blanche. Pops stops, placing a finger under both their chins and effectively closing them. “Don’t stress yourselves, we’ll tell him they’re pigs livers.”

Mira turns to look at me. “Dispose of them how?” she whispers.

“You don’t wanna know.”

Mira

After the big revelation that I’ve been feeding my poor cat people-liver, things move fast. Remy and her very handsome Ol Man hit the internet in search of people selling body parts. I think? I actually have no idea. I tried to keep up with their conversation but they seemed to talk in half sentences, the other person knowing inherently what they meant. From what I could gather there are dark places on the web that specialize in that type of thing. Which is gross and horrific. Did I note it down for future reference regardless? Yes. yes I did. While they headed off to their “Control Center” to look into that a little more, most everyone else left to go about their lives as if this kinda thing was totally normal. Maybe it is in biker land?

“You holding up OK?” Mama Debs’ soft voice asks from my side, where she’s standing with a steaming cup of something and a plate of cookies which I eagerly take from her.

I’m a curvy girl. I like the way I’m built, which means I never say no to a home baked cookie.

“I have no idea. Twenty minutes ago I was a fabulous bubbly blonde writer in a clubhouse working on my new romance novel. Now I’m a woman eating cookies wondering who the heck I fed to my cat,” I sigh. I can feel the tension in my shoulders and the place in my head that normally works a mile a minute, thinking of scenarios and sentences and characters is shockingly quiet.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that DRMC has your back? And that they won’t stop until they find out what the hell is going on?” Debs asks, taking a seat next to mine and laying a warm hand on my arm. Would it be weird if I crawled over to sit in her lap? “I don’t think it would be weird, but it would definitely be a tight squeeze.”

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