Page 35 of Tank

I would love to sit here and argue with him over my health and wellbeing all night, but at this point I need to get rid of him so I get out of these infernal jeans. They didn’t feel that tight when I put them on. Maybe a little riding up in the front and back but nowhere near enough to it feel like it’s cutting off circulation in my legs.

“Tyson, I’ll be fine. You go and do biker man things and I will rest up and hopefully see you soon?”

“That’s a guarantee. I mean, the clubhouse is your office now,” He grins and winks at me, then bends and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Get some rest and I’ll see you soon, Doll.”

He takes one last look at me and then heads out, shutting the door gently behind him. I wait until I hear his car door slam, then the SUV starts up, and then the sounds of it driving away, getting fainter and fainter.

“Oh, thank god!” I breathe out, pull myself up to stand, undo my button, yank the zipper down and tear my jeans off, throwing them across the room for good measure.

Looking down at my right leg, the one that is both on fire and numb, I notice it’s a weird mottled color. I let out a squeak and then slowly it dawns on me that my jeans are across the room but my leg is still on fire. What else dawns on me is how gosh darn uncomfortable my underwear is. I decided to wear thisfancy, lacy thong that I found in my drawer and haven’t worn in around ten years. Looking down at myself I frown when I catch half of my muff hanging out the side of the tiny front triangle part.

“What the heck?”

Sucking my tummy in for a better look I notice not only is the muff part askew, but also that one side, the left side that arches over my hip is a lot thicker than the other side. Hooking my thumbs into the tiny thong I draw it down my legs, realizing that I put it on wrong. Somehow it got turned around and my legs are sticking through one leg part and the butt string part. The butt string so thin and tight that it cut off my circulation to my right leg. I know this to be true because now that they’re around my ankles I can feel blood rushing back to my groin like a tidal wave.

My date was foiled by my inability to put my underwear on properly. The realization has me collapsing on the couch, naked booty to cushion, a long groan escaping me.

Tyson 0. Thong 1.

Chapter 10

Tav

“You sure you’ve got this?” Tank checks in with me for the third time.

“Brother, we do this shit all the time. Wire and Chewy have already hacked into the funeral home’s security cameras, we just need to investigate the mortuary part. I got this. I was chosen for this specifically because I can handle it. I mean, it’s nice that you’re worried about me, but we’ll be fine.” I slap him on the back and turn, but not before I hear Nitro mumble “You were chosen because of your old ass grandfather.” I choose to ignore that hurtful comment.

“Ready?” Gus asks, glancing between me, Jules and Pops. We all nod, ready to get this show on the road.

We climb into the Tombs Security SUV ready to pull out, Tank and Nitro following behind in a DRMC SUV. For stealth. As much as these guys love riding their bikes, bikes aren’t that covert and that’s what Pres wants. Tank and Nitro need to blend in as they’re our assigned backup. Not that we need it, but I think he just wanted them safe and away from any police poking around. So he’s sent them on perhaps the easiest job my brothers and I have ever been on. Maybe.

It’s around a 30 minute drive to Ironwood, home of the family-owned funeral home Roman likes to use. And also the place where body parts seem to mysteriously go missing. The drive passes with little drama, other than having to listen to Pops regale us with gross stories about how much he loves Debs and trying to give us all pointers on “How to make love right”.

“AND we’re here!” Gus yells over the top of Pops’ story as he parks in the lot. He turns to eyeball me and Pops in the back. “Remember, we are a loving family wanting a tour and information on the best way to say goodbye to a loved one. No need for full theatrics, got it?”

I give Pops the side eye, but he’s already out the door walking to the back of the SUV. “Keep him contained.” Gus gives me the stink eye and I don’t know why. I’m the normal one in this whole damn family.

“Hurry up shitheads, I got a funeral to plan,” Pops yells from his now seated position in the wheelchair he procured from somewhere or other. “We’re burning daylight and I ain’t got many days left!”

He cackles as he wheels himself toward the door, flicking his head at Jules to open it for him. He pushes forward, the rest of us following behind, stepping into a foyer full of marble. Like a ridiculous amount. Marbled floors, walls and table tops, with giant vases full of wedding looking flowers surround us.

“Holy hell! Death must pay well because this garish shit would have cost a bomb,” Pops says. Loudly.

The woman greeter inhales quickly at his comment, looking completely put out. Stepping forward I try to smooth the waters. “Oh, please forgive my grandfather. He’s lost his mind.” Pops makes a choking sound behind me, “He’s not got long to go. His faculties and body are starting to break down at a rapid pace. I’m so sorry,” I give her the big puppy dog eyes and she waves a hand at me with a soft smile.

“Of course, Mr. Tombs, is it?” Her name tag reads “Svetlana” and so does her severe blonde slicked back bob. If I could draw what a “Svetlana” looks like, it’d be this woman.

“Yes. Actually, we all four are Mr. Tombs, so why not call me Tav?”

“Of course. Now, you wanted the full tour and a few options for when your grandfather -” Her eyes flick to Pops who is grinning at her with his finger in his nose, “-leaves this mortal coil?”

“That’s correct. This is Gus,” Gus steps forward, “and our other brother, Jules.” She nods at them both. “Please, if you wouldn’t mind leading the way?”

She takes off at a quick pace, her high heels tap, tap, tapping away on the veined marble. I trail behind Pops, who is wheeling himself surprisingly well.

“Psst, you and I, let’s veer off. I want to see the mortuary,” Pops says with the excitement of a kid at Disneyland.

I want to argue with him, I really do, but I kinda wanna see it too, and we have surveillance we want to get set up. If we get caught I’ll just blame the kook in the wheelchair. We come to the door with ‘Mortuary’ written on it. Gus catches my eye and gives me an imperceptible nod while angling the woman away from us as she explains the virtues of cremation over burial. Focusing on our task I turn the door handle and open the door a crack, listening for an employee on the other side. When I’m satisfied that the coast is clear, I widen the door and shove Pops through.

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