Page 36 of Overstaying His Welcome

So much blood.

It covered the bed and the walls in slashing marks.

This had to be some sick joke. Maybe we were going to play one of those mystery games or something. Tank had a weird sense of humor sometimes. Yeah, it usually leaned towards sexual innuendos instead of him scaring the shit out of me, but maybe he wanted to switch it up.

I carefully made my way around the edge of the room to see if I could find him. When I took a look in the bathroom and the closet, I found nothing. It was as if nothing was disturbed. He hadn’t even gone in here.

The bedroom was the only area that was a mess.

As I stared at the space, I noticed the way the blankets rustled. The wind was blowing them in a way I hadn’t noticed before.

We’d gone to bed with everything closed up tight.

Which meant…

Shuffling over to the window took time. When I finally made it there, I noticed how the blood seemed to move over the edge of the open frame too. Whatever happened, this was the entry point. Or maybe the exit.

Would he hurt himself like this, then try to leave?

Worse yet, someone else hurt him and left? Did they take him too?

Fuck.

I needed to check the security feeds. Maybe one of them caught something.

Running through the house, I went to my office as I shouted for Tank. There was no reply, but even without looking I knew there wouldn’t be.

Something was very wrong.

As I powered up my computer, I sent prayers out to the universe that I was wrong. Hopefully, the footage would show Tank sneaking around with the grin I loved as he tried to pull a fast one on me.

But that was far from what I found.

I saw Tank, sure. Instead of a smile, his face was blank. And instead of sneaking around, he was thrown over some goon’s shoulder as another man waited with a gun drawn to watch for anyone trying to interfere.

They took off on foot until they hit the street. Then the distance was too far to catch anything besides the blurry shape of their car.

“FUCK!” I cried as I slammed my palm on the desk.

Sadly, we did have protocol for this type of situation. When Tank first told me about it, I called him an idiot for thinking we’d ever need it. As a man whose life’s work was security, he assured me we needed it just in case.

I hated how he was right.

Pulling out a flash drive, I gathered footage for the last few days around my place as I went to the bedroom. Taking pictures of everything, I put them in a secure file that was passcode protected, then changed into something a touch more presentable.

Cameras would likely pickup my arrival at NightShade. No need to give them more to talk about by it being me in my pajamas.

Once I was in my suit, I gathered the drive and my keys. I was out the door and driving to the office as if nothing were amiss. My calm remained as I stepped into the building. I told security I had a meeting with NightShade and gave a codeword Tank had told me would grant me instant access.

While people stared at me in confusion, none of them stopped me. Even as I entered the floor for the NightShade team, a place I’d never been before, not a single person told me I couldn’t be there.

It was a bit astounding, really. How my power could get me into situations I desperately wanted, though not for the reasons I craved.

I wanted to be there because I belonged to Tank, and he belonged to me. Not because they thought I was around for business.

When I walked into the war room, I was met with a sea of faces I knew but had never formally met.

“Councilman Sheppard. How may I help you? I’m afraid Tank isn’t here if you have a meeting with him,” Ronan, the largest of the bunch said to me.

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