Tank

by Erin Bevan

  He’d waited near the ATM for four hours. Four fucking hours.

  She hadn’t made it to the bank before him because their account still had all their money in it when he closed it out that morning. A measly two thousand dollars.

  So, where was she? And how could she get anywhere without proper funds? Not that two thousand was something he would consider proper funds.

  Gripping the steering wheel tighter, his forearms burned from the tension. When he did find her, he would drag her ass to the Justice of the Peace and make her his wife. Being his was best for her. Everything he wanted for her was for her own good. She would see.

  And once they were hitched, he’d be damn sure she never pulled a stunt like this again. She would also quit that stupid job of hers and focus her attention on being his dutiful wife and campaign manager. They’d still have the big, fancy wedding for show. He’d just have to pay for the fucking thing. No better way to acquire votes from Black Widow’s elite than by boozing them on his dime.

  He pulled his cruiser to the side of the street in front of his house.

  Damn, he was tired. If he weren’t so worried about becoming Sherriff, putting on a good face, he would call in sick for his evening shift. Use the day to catch up on some sleep, and then spend the evening figuring out a way to find her. His medicine would kick in by then. And while he didn’t need it, he’d admit he focused better with it.

  He glanced at his clock again. She’d been gone for at least five hours…maybe. Problem was, he had no real idea of when she left the house, or where exactly she could be by now.

  If she fled to her mom’s, she would have arrived an hour ago, if not more. He’d be sure to call the home later tonight when Nurse Maddy was on shift. He'd pleased her enough times in the supply closet the last time they drove down to visit Annie's crazy mom. His nurse would give him all the information he wanted.

  He tapped his fingers on his leg and took in a deep breath. Everything would work out.

  Disobedient woman better have put some makeup on to hide the bruises she made me give her. Fleeing bitch.

  Duke went to turn off the ignition of his unit. Tyler Wilde’s name stared at him from the computer monitor. Something about the guy didn’t sit right with him. If he’d had a warrant, he would have asked to see what was under the tarp. He’d watched as the guy put his card in the machine, yet he didn’t withdraw any money. Perhaps the man was getting a bank balance?

  He reached for his phone and dialed the bank.

  “Livingston’s Bank, Peggy speaking.”

  He cleared his throat and lowered the tone of his voice to panty-dropping level. “Peggy, good morning, it’s Chief Fields.”

  “Oh, Chief!”

  The shrillness of her voice made him cringe.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I’ve got a check here from someone, and I want to make sure the funds are available before I cash it.”

  “Well, sure, what’s the account number?”

  “The account number?” He hadn’t planned for that. “I umm…I don’t have my contacts in, Peggy, darling, so I can’t make out the numbers, but I can give you the man’s name.”

  “Contacts? I didn’t know you wear contacts.”

  He didn’t.

  “I cannot wear those things. They kill my eyes,” she squeaked into the phone.

  He held the phone away from his ear. Her coke bottle glasses and too-tight-around-the-midsection dresses killed his eyes, but she didn’t seem to care.

  He took a deep breath and pulled the microphone back to his mouth. “Yeah, they aren’t for everyone. So, can you look up the man’s account by his name?”

  “Well, I’m really not supposed to. If you had an account number I could, but I’m not supposed to by name.”

  Damn. He was going to have to do something he didn’t want to. Flirt. “Oh, Peggy, honey, I guess I understand that. And you’re such a good employee. I wouldn’t want you to do anything to get yourself in trouble. As an officer of the law, I can appreciate your honesty. I guess I’ll just have to take the chance of this check bouncing on my account.”

  “Oh, well.” She let out a slight giggle. “I don’t want that to happen. Listen,” she whispered into the receiver, “I’ll do it this one time just for you. Go ahead. Tell me the man’s name.”

  “You’re a doll,” he rolled the words off his tongue in a southern drawl. “Last name’s Wilde, with an E on the end. First name’s, Tyler.”

  “Okay, let me see here.”

  The sound of computer keys clicked in the background. “Well, Chief Fields, I do believe someone has given you a false check. We don’t have anyone by that name at our bank. Did they know you are a police officer? Lordy, that man could get arrested. I’ll need to send an email alert to our branch manager and let him know Tyler Wilde is writing false checks on our bank. But, oh Lord, how am I going to tell him? I’m not even supposed to be looking up his name.”

  He had to diffuse the situation before the pitiful teller had a heart attack. “Oh, wait Peggy, that’s not necessary. I looked at the check wrong. It wasn’t written off Livingston’s bank after all. I’m sorry to bother you. Thanks for your time, darling.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. No problem, Chi—”

  He hung up and glanced at his computer monitor again. Wilde’s picture stared back at him. “If you don’t have an account then why were you really there?”

  He shut off his car and walked to his back door. The house alarm beeped when he opened the door, and mindlessly, he punched in his code. Drowsiness overtaking him, he shuffled toward their bedroom and stopped midway, Annie’s locket still on the ground. He reached to pick it up. If Annie showed up while he was at work, he might not realize until much later. Unless… His medicine must be working. He walked back to the keypad and created a new code.

  Chapter Twelve

  Annie had a pen and paper in hand, writing numbers at the top of the page. Her long, bare legs were curled under her on the couch, while her feet sat nestled under her voluptuous backside, and her red toenails dared to play peek-a-boo under her butt cheek.

  Mercy.

  “What are you doing?” Tank sat on the end of the couch and grabbed the television remote, his grip way too tight.

  Alfred stood in front of her, begging to be petted. She lifted a lazy hand and slowly rubbed the dog’s ears. His pup gave him a side-glance, almost mocking him because Al got her affections and he didn’t.

  Damn dog.

  “Making the house layout for JoJo. There’s an alarm she’s going to have to bypass. She’ll need the code.”

  She set the pen down and reached for her father’s moose mug sitting next to her on the end table. Having something so personal of hers sitting on his table inflated his chest a little. She’s getting comfortable. Here. With me. He dared a peek at her toenails again.

  Get a grip, Wilde. Even though he’d been reunited with the girl a week, she’d only been his houseguest for a day. One day, and he had a hard time keeping it in his pants.

  “Yeah?” He turned and glared at the picture-less television. “That’s a good idea. She’ll be here in about an hour.”

  “About that. I know Duke goes in to work at seven, but it’ll still be light outside. You think she wouldn’t mind waiting until about nine or so?”

  “Why?” His fingers finally decided to work. He hit the power button and mindlessly flipped through channels. He needed something manly to watch. Something very unattractive to look at, like sumo-wrestlers in giant diapers unattractive.

  Placing her lips to the mug, she took a sip and set it back down. “Because I want to go, too, but I can’t bear to face another close call like earlier. My side is killing me from being so scrunched on your floorboard.”

  “You can’t possibly go in that house.”

  “I know, but I was thinking we could park on the street, and stay connected to her through your cell as she’s going in.”

  “Annie, No. I don’t—�
��

  “Tyler.” She held up a hand to stop him. “I’m going. JoJo is doing this for me. Either go with me or not, but I’m going with her. If something should happen, I’m not going to let her take the rap.”

  Stubborn woman.

  “Fine.” He couldn’t tell her what to do, but he would voice his opinion. “However, I think it’s a bad idea.”

  “I know, but I’m going anyway.”

  “You’re stubborn, you know that?” Tension coursed through his body, and he did his best not to show it.

  Suppressing a grin, she asked, “Does that mean you’re going with me?”

  His body relaxed at her smile, and his gut sank at her question. He still had work to do to prove to her he was there to help. A lot of work. “Of course it does, Annie. You’re not in this alone. Never in this alone.”

  Her chest rose and a glimmer shone out of her good eye. Beauty glanced back down at the paper and placed it on the coffee table. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I think I’m going to take a bath.”

  “Okay. Take your time.”

  Taking her coffee mug with her, she stood and went toward the bathroom. Al followed.

  “You can’t come, buddy.” She closed the bathroom door gently in his dog’s face.

  Alfred gave him a sad look.

  “I know, man. Come here.” He ushered his dog on the couch beside him.

  How long had it been since anyone bothered to show her they cared? He gripped his remote tighter, the plastic making a cracking sound in his hand. He eased his grip, and ran a hand through Alfred’s soft fur.

  Water rushed through the bathroom pipes. Frantically, he flipped the channels for something very ugly to stare at, landing on an old wrestling match. Chubby dudes in spandex speedos were about as bad as sumo-wrestlers. Still, even with all the long hair, man boob glory flashing bright and bold on his screen, he couldn’t help but wish he was the bar of soap sitting by his bathtub faucet right now.

  Al barked at the sound of a slight knock from his front door. Tank glanced over at his microwave clock. Six on the dot. He peeked out of the peephole to be sure before opening the door. JoJo had her right arm propped against the doorframe, her feet crossed at the ankles, and a duffel bag hanging off her left shoulder. Shades as black as her hair covered her eyes.

  “Evening, big guy and hairy thing.” She took her glasses off and crossed the threshold.

  “What’s in the bag?”

  “A few things for Annie. Just in case our B and E doesn’t go as well as we planned.”

  He took the bag from her and slung it over his own shoulder. “Listen, JoJo, you don’t have to do this.” His gut rolled. The whole thing felt extremely wrong. Not just the breaking and entering part, but also the idea of stepping into Duke’s territory wasn’t giving him any warm fuzzies either. Bringing Annie close to the monster on purpose seemed stupid.

  “I know.” The biker gave him a hard stare. “I’m aware of what I’m doing. Where is she, anyway?”

  “I’m here.” Annie came out from the bedroom.

  “I brought you some things.” JoJo pointed to the bag, and he handed it to Annie. “I knew my jeans wouldn’t be long enough for you, so it’s just a few pairs of sweat pants and a couple of T-shirts.”

  “Thanks, lady. This means a lot.” Beauty unzipped the bag and pulled the canvas apart.

  “No big deal. I’d like to be able to say I’ll get most of your stuff tonight and you won’t need mine, but just in case.” She nodded toward the supplies.

  Annie pulled a shirt out of the bag. “Everything is black.”

  “Sorry.” JoJo shrugged. “I don’t do pink.”

  This biker chick in pink? The idea seemed about as foreign as the woman sewing a sweater.

  “I’m not complaining,” Annie reassured. “This will be great for tonight. I’ll have something dark to wear to hide better in.”

  Oh, man.

  Inwardly, he cringed. Not exactly the best opening in telling this Guardian how the plans had changed. He hadn’t known JoJo long, but he gathered she was more of a solo act. And she sure didn’t seem like the kind of person who liked being told how things were going to go down.

  “Tonight? Hide? What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “Here, let’s sit at the table and talk. Go sit, Alfred.” He pointed the ladies and his dog in the direction of the kitchen table, stalling for time, trying to figure out the correct way to inform JoJo they were tagging along. Annie’s drawing of the house sat on the coffee table. He grabbed it before he joined them.

  “I’m going with you tonight,” Beauty said before he could sit down.

  He cringed again. This wasn’t going like he planned at all. Not that he really had a plan.

  “No, I do this alone.”

  “Now, wait a minute.” Tank pulled up a chair between the ladies. His broad frame crowded the space. The Guardian scooted away from him, giving them more room. Beauty stayed close. His heart jumped. “Annie feels strongly about standing watch for you, you know, in case anything bad happens. We’ll be on my cellphone. If we see something suspicious, we can warn you to get out while you’re inside.”

  “The point of me going in is to go in alone, without you guys. No offense, Annie, I appreciate your help, but you guys being there isn’t safe.”

  “But I want to help,” Beauty protested.

  Tank held up his hands and slunk back in his chair. “Ladies, the whole situation isn’t safe. You both want to help each other, and I think that’s wonderful. JoJo, you’re used to doing things on your own I’ve gathered, and Annie, I’ve also gathered you aren’t used to people doing nice things for you. Let’s work together as a team. Okay? JoJo goes in alone. Annie and I will be in the truck a safe distance away to watch for anything suspicious. Okay?”

  “Fine with me,” Annie said.

  JoJo sighed. “Sure. Fine. Whatever. But things have a way of getting sloppy when more people get involved.”

  “That won’t happen,” Annie said. Her determined stare met his and JoJo’s.

  “There’s a side street, Dixie,” JoJo said. “You can park the truck on the corner. You can see three fourths of the house from that view, but there is a nice big tree you can park under to give you some cover. It’s the best place for you to look out for me without being blatantly obvious.” She leaned back in her chair. “Not that I need it,” she mumbled under her breath.

  So, the cocky woman hadn’t lied. This wasn’t her first rodeo. Knowing the trees, and areas to hide meant she’d cased Duke’s house before she came. The uneasy feeling in his stomach lifted. Slightly.

  “Glad you’ve done your homework.”

  JoJo gave him another dumb ass stare.

  He ignored the broody biker and turned back to the beauty sitting close to him. “Duke’s already seen my truck, and there’s no way we can take your car. That would be way too obvious. JoJo’s right. We should hide under the tree.” He stared at Annie’s swollen eye. He wanted to give this to her, take her where she wanted to go, but looking at her face had his insides turning.

  Please, don’t let this be a horrible mistake.

  “You’re right,” Annie agreed. “But wait.” She turned back to JoJo. “How do you know where I lived?”

  “I see him drive around town enough. Number 357 is always parked on the curb. I associated the cruiser number with the guy and the guy with the house. The shade from the giant pear tree in your yard makes his patrol car hard to see at night. I always see it, sitting there, like it’s waiting,” JoJo said matter-of-fact. “You’ve got a lot of trees in your neighborhood”

  “Old neighborhood,” Beauty corrected.

  A flutter replaced the churn in his gut. She talked like a woman who had no intentions of returning to her past.

  “And yeah,” Annie continued. “You’re right. Duke likes to intimidate people.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” JoJo glanced at the paper he held in his hand. “What’s that? The layout of the hou
se?”

  He pushed the flutters aside and passed the paper to JoJo. “Annie put the alarm code numbers at the top.”

  “You think these are still good? You think he’s changed the code?”

  “Maybe.” Annie shrugged. “I don’t put anything past him.”

  “You got any idea of another set of numbers?”

  “His birthday. Seven-one-three-eight-five.”

  Tank rose to grab a pen. “Evil bastard was probably born on a Friday.” He took one from the junk drawer and handed it to JoJo.

  She scribbled the numbers at the top. “And there are only two doors. Right? No side doors?”

  “Nope.” Annie shook her head. “Front and back, that’s it.”

  “What all do you want me to grab?” JoJo placed the pen back on the table.

  “There’s a bag in the closet, hanging on a hook. Grab that. The right side of the closet is mine. I’ll need some jeans, some shirts, and shoes. My makeup bag is in a drawer in the bathroom, and my…” She glanced up at him; her cheeks reddened. “My underwear are in the third drawer of the dresser. And my locket. Please grab that if you can find it. It might be on my dresser, maybe? I’m not sure where Duke would have put it.”

  “Okay.” JoJo tapped her fingers on the table. “Anything else?”

  “Umm…yeah. I have a book on the nightstand. That, too, if you can.”

  “Jeans, shirts, shoes, makeup, undies, necklace, and book. Got it.” The Guardian scooted her chair back. “You guys about ready to get this party started?”

  “About that.” Tank stepped from behind the kitchen counter. “We went into town today, and nearly got caught. Because of that, Annie had to scrunch on the floorboard of my truck. She bruised her ribs more. It’s best if we wait until it gets dark outside. That way she’s not as easily seen.”

  JoJo swiveled her head in his direction. “You mean when Duke’s no longer busy with signing into his shift and is out on patrol, dark? Right?” Irritation marred her face as she glanced back at Annie.