Page 50 of Tank

“So, what’s the plan, oh great one?”

“We overpower him, take the van, and uno reverse the kidnap.” She grins like this is the perfect plan.

“We’re tied up, rolling around on the floor of a van.” I whisper shout at her. “You’re what? Five feet tall? I’m not much bigger and I’m pregnant. How the hell do we overpower Morc?”

She makes eye contact, eyes sparkling, “We overpower him with our minds.” She grins and rolls back to face our kidnapper. “Ew, is that a Batman bobblehead on your dash?”

She wriggles closer to him, grunting with the effort, “You know Batman is the total bad guy right? Like he expects people to be sad for him because he lost his parents, waaaaaah, what a total crybaby. I’m an orphan too and you don’t see me going around beating up innocent people.”

Morc’s head snaps around to glare at Chewy before his eyes flick back to the road, “Whatever lady. Clearly you don’t know anything about Batman, so shut your fat mouth.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re probably right. I don’t know that Batman was created by Bob Kane and Bill Finger and debuted in 1939. No way. I don’t know anything about Batman,” she sing songs. Morc’s jaw tenses and from the angle I’m lying on I can see his stubby fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “I’m sure you know way more than me. Like how in the 1940’s Batman tried to prohibit killing because before then he was a total asshole? Beating up poor, defenseless men, just trying to make ends meet to feed their families.”

“What the fuck are you on? Batman is the good guy!” he roars, swerving a little, sending me sliding into the side of the van.

“He’s a gajillionaire and he goes around beating up poor people. The guys that are always loading vans in alleys. Batmanmaims them and then what? They have to live the rest of their lives on disability, costing the Gotham government more than what Bruce Wayne contributes. What’s the bet he gets a buttload of tax breaks from his political buddies. The Joker, he’s the real hero.” Morc lets out a strangled cry but Chewy continues, “At least he’s out here trying to give these guys jobs.”

“That’s it.” The van swerves violently to the side, skidding to a stop. “I can’t take this shit anymore. If you’re not going to shut up, I’m going to make you.” He unbuckles his seat belt and rummages around in the console, “I can’t believe this shit. She’s not paying me fucking enough to put up with this,” he mutters under his breath.

“Whitney is a total douche, why the hell are you working for her?” I call out, my curiosity winning out over the fear of what the fuck this guy is gonna do to Chewy. We’re at a total disadvantage, we have no hands free and I have no idea how Chewy is going to fight a seriously built guy with only her short legs.

His head snaps up. “Who the fuck is Whitney? And why the fuck are you talking? I thought you were the quiet one.”

“Whitney is the blonde bobblehead that met up with you, dickhead,” I spit at him.

He squints for a moment, then maneuvers himself over the console into the back with us, “I don’t work for no hookers. And I don’t put up with shit from two mouthy biker whores either.”

“Aw, good thing we aren’t biker whores then isn’t it?” Chewy says, from her position on the floor looking up at him with a smile. “Surprise!” She pulls her untied hands from behind her back, waving jazz hands at Morc before launching up and jabbing something into his groin.

He falls to his knees as Chewy stands, looking down at him. “Say goodnight, Bruce Lame.”

And with that she swings a brutal right hook at him knocking him out cold. We both stare at his body for a beat.

“When were you gonna tell me you had a knife this whole time?”

“Couldn’t give away my secrets,” she mutters, climbing into the front and tearing the Batman bobblehead from the dash.

“So you were just gonna let the woman carrying your niece or nephew roll around tied up in the back?”

She turns to look at me. “You’re fine. And I have loads of nieces and nephews. Besides, if it makes you feel better, I can let you do the honors?”

She waves the bobblehead around and then looks toward the bottom half of Morc and I follow her gaze. No. No way.

“What is it with you and butts?” I really need to know, it’s not normal. I mean, sure, a little ass play is a good time, but Chewy is another level. She uses asses for good and evil.

“I like how it makes them squirm,” she shrugs. “So, do you want in on this or not?”

“I’ll look through his shit, you do, whatever,” I wave in her general direction and start pawing through Morc’s crap. There’s old fast food wrappers, papers strewn on the passenger seat and an employee swipe card for some funeral home.

“There! All done. Now move outta the way preggo, I wanna see how my new ride handles.”

Chapter 15

Tank

“How in the fuck did you get here? And what’s on your jeans?” Rhodie asks as he hands Chomper off to Dex who juggles the poor little guy before getting a good handle on him.

Rhodie strides to his Ol Lady and doesn’t even wait for her to answer his questions, just cups her cheeks and starts devouring her face. Tav is doing much the same, on a gentler level, his hand cupping Blanche’s small bump.

---