Tank

by Erin Bevan

  Brayden had been such a good boy, doing exactly everything he was told. Including sleeping with the redhead. Problem was, Rookie hadn’t stopped to ask how old big-tits was first—a glorious sixteen, just three weeks shy of her seventeenth birthday. The legal age of consent in the state of Texas.

  Now, if their rendezvous became public, Brayden would face statutory rape charges and up to twenty years in the pen. And everyone knew what inmates did to little cops in prison.

  Duke scared the shit out of his little partner so bad the man shook and cried like a baby, begging him not to say anything.

  And that’s exactly how he got what he needed.

  Brayden not only made the phone call luring the ogre to the hospital, he had strict instructions to run the biker off the road, while making it look like an accident—a deadly accident. No one would put a cop behind bars over a pair of faulty breaks.

  With the ogre dead, Duke wouldn’t have a thing to worry about when it came to getting his woman back.

  No alarm system or big ass biker is going to stop me.

  And with Rookie’s dreams of working his way up the police ranks sitting in the palm of Duke’s hand, Brayden was a sure bet. Duke let out a rich, deep belly laugh as tears of joy peppered his eyes. Everything was going to be okay, and the deed would be done without him having to lift a finger.

  Now, all he had to do was talk to Annie. Just talk to her, make her see she belonged with him. She would understand. She would come back. She would.

  The burner phone in his cup holder rang. His heart pounded in his chest and his hands shook in excitement as he reached to grab the phone, only to drop it on the floorboard.

  Fuck.

  He scrambled for the handset. “Hello.”

  “It’s…it’s done. He’s face-down in the ditch.”

  Duke’s hands shook. “Did you make it look like an accident?”

  “Yes. I need to call an ambulance now.”

  “Good boy, Brayden. Hide this phone under your seat until I can dispose of it properly.”

  “Yes…yes, sir.” The young man’s voice wavered.

  What a fucking titty-baby.

  “And Brayden.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Your secrets are safe with me.” He smiled as he said the words. “All of them. Welcome to my team, son.”

  “Yeah…thanks.”

  Duke hung up the phone and screamed, “Yes!” as he slapped the steering wheel. “Finally. Fuck yeah!”

  The little cop had followed through with his end of the plan, conquering the monster. The knowledge of the ogre dead caused his heart to dance.

  Bye, bye, lover boy.

  He’d be sure to reward the cop heavily. Maybe even slip the guy an envelope of cash. Like his father said, he had cash. He should use it. Money was the best way to keep the kid in his back pocket. Who knows what other little chores he may have for the Rookie down the road.

  Duke cracked his neck and swallowed a swig of his rum, not bothering to mask it with a cola this time. His hands and legs shook. Eager. Happy. This was his chance. His time.

  Their time.

  No one else could have his Annie. Only him. He needed her by his side, and now with the ogre dead, she would see she belonged with him.

  He took another swig and eased his truck down the long drive, parking in front of the small house. Grabbing the flower arrangement off the seat, he opened his truck. All women loved flowers. His Annie was no exception.

  Here I come, baby.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Is Tank going to be okay?” Bear asked, as he shoved his last chip into his mouth.

  “I sure hope so.”

  “Are you worried?”

  “Yeah, a little.” She rubbed Nathaniel on the shoulder. “But you don’t worry about that, okay.”

  “Can I have some more chips?”

  Annie stood and headed toward the kitchen sink. Her sandwich had lost its appeal. “Big guy, I think you’ve had plenty of chips.”

  “Please.” He pouted his lower lip.

  “Fine.” She shook her head—he was a cute kid. “But only a few.”

  She couldn’t deny those big round eyes, and they’d both had quite the excitement with Tank and the news about his mother. Maybe a chip would make the boy feel better.

  She reached for the bag and poured a few more. His milk glass sat empty, undoubtedly, to wash down all the salt from the chips. “You want some more milk, too?”

  “Please. Look.” Bear jumped out of his chair and ran to the sliding door. “There are the baby ducks, and Alfred is running back and forth.” He placed his hands on the glass. “Can we go out and see them.”

  “Yeah, but after lunch. Okay? Besides, I need to make a few phone calls first.” She reached for his cup off the table and carried it into the kitchen. “Alfred loves the ducks.” Opening the refrigerator, she grabbed the milk carton, and began pouring.

  A knock sounded from the door. Her heart pounded. Stupid. She couldn’t jump at every noise. It was probably only Father coming at Tank’s request. Still, she had to be cautious.

  “I’ll get it.” Bear ran to the front.

  “No, wait.” She turned the corner into the living room, the milk carton still in her hand as Bear flipped the lock and reached for the door handle. “Nate, wait.”

  Not bothering to listen, he swung the door open wide. The alarm sounded—“Door Open.”

  Nathaniel immediately began to back up as Duke crossed the threshold. Another bouquet of flowers filled his hand, his knuckles white from his grip and a crazed look held steady in his eyes. The same look as the night he nearly killed her.

  Her heart hammered as the carton slid from her fingers, milk sloshing over the floor. She darted her gaze to the monitor to see how much time she had left before the panic alarm went off. Thirty seconds. Fear rose inside her chest. Surely, Tank was already alerted the door opened. And in less than thirty seconds, he would know something was terribly wrong and would come. He would send help.

  She glanced down at Bear, standing between her and Duke.

  “Bear.” Her throat felt parched as she tried to keep her voice calm and held her arms out to him. “Come here.”

  The boy ran to hide behind her. Duke closed the door, standing between her and the alarm. She glanced outside. Alfred trotted up the back porch, and pawed at the door to get in. Once Al noticed Duke through the window, the hair on the pup’s neck stood straight up as a low growl emitted from his throat.

  “What a vicious dog you have there,” Duke mocked.

  “He doesn’t know you.” Annie reached behind her and squeezed Bear tighter to her body before she took a slow step to the left.

  “Do you like the dog?” He glanced down and fiddled with the flower stems.

  “Yes. Alfred is great.” She took another small step to the left while he wasn’t looking. If she could get closer to the door, let Al in, maybe her and Bear would have a chance to escape.

  The alarm began a faster beep, warning of its soon sound off.

  “What’s the code, Annie?”

  No way would she give him that. But, the panic code. The code that would silence the alarm but still alert Tyler…

  “One, nine, eight, nine.”

  Duke punched in the numbers. “Any significance?”

  “The year the best Batman movie came out.”

  “I didn’t take you for a superhero kind of girl.”

  Keep him talking. If Duke was talking, he wasn’t beating. She had to stay calm, give him what he wanted.

  For Nathaniel.

  The boy’s limbs shook under her grasp.

  “Everyone needs to be rescued from time to time.” She shrugged.

  “Yes, they do.” He smiled a sad smile, and the corner of his eyes turned down in pity. “Which is exactly what I’m here to do. Rescue you.” He glanced around her and pointed to Nathaniel. His face took on a stone demeanor. “Why is he here? He isn’t supposed to be here.”


  Bear pulled tighter on the back of her shirt.

  “I’m babysitting. Nathaniel’s mother had to work and needed some help.”

  “Yeah, now that she put the dad away in prison, I suppose being a single parent may be hard.” He tossed the flowers on the coffee table and took a few steps toward the couch.

  Annie took another step closer to the back door, dragging Bear behind her. Wouldn’t be long now. Tyler would come back. She had to keep him talking. “Why are you here, Duke?”

  “To bring you home of course. I love you. You belong with me.” His voice seemed so relaxed, yet his hands shook.

  Calm. She had to remain calm.

  “Duke, I think you should leave. Tyler will be back soon, and he won’t like that you’re here.” She glanced over at the console table by the front door. Her cellphone lay too far away. If she could get to it. Call for help.

  A mischievous grin covered his face, his eyes glowing in sinful glee. “Oh, Annie, I took care of that little problem. Your precious Tyler won’t ever be coming home again.” His grin rose to a full smile.

  Won’t be coming home? Her heart pounded and her brain fogged at his words.

  “What…what do you mean never coming home again?”

  Alfred still pawed furiously at the glass. She glanced around for a weapon, a knife, anything, then remembered her self-defense. Neck. Middle. Groin. She ran through the moves in her head, but she’d have to get close to Duke if she wanted to use them.

  “Annie, dear, why don’t you come sit by me. I’ll explain everything. You can let the boy go play outside with the mutt, but let him out the front door. I don’t want to have to shoot the fur bag.”

  Gun. Of course he had a gun.

  She checked his hip. No holster. Where would it be? Could she outrun a gun? Did she have a choice?

  “Yes. I think that’s a good idea.” She encased Bear’s trembling hand in her own. He stared up at her, tears brimming his eyes, and she gave him a nod. “You go outside and play, Nathaniel, okay?” Then she pulled him to the front door and opened it.

  “Hurry up before that dog comes from around back.”

  “Sure, Duke.” She pushed Bear out the door then raised her hand in a rush to grab her phone. Device in her grip, she screamed, “Run” to Nathaniel as she took his hand.

  She ran down the front steps as Alfred bound around the house, the fur on his neck fully erect. The dog growled and charged.

  “This way,” she hollered, running as fast as the boy could. Looking back, she saw the shape of Duke in her peripheral vision as the dog leapt to attack.

  A low growl emitted from Alfred’s throat as he made contact with Duke’s leg, and she lost the view of them as she rounded the house. She had to get to her old house. Closer to town. Better phone reception. And she prayed she could lose Duke in the woods along the way.

  Annie pulled Bear to the embankment just as she heard a gunshot, and Alfred let out an ear-piercing wail.

  She stopped. Alfred! Her heart ached, but her instincts told her to keep moving, save Nathaniel.

  “Come on. We have to keep going.” She pointed him toward the rocks and gave a gentle but firm push. “Hop on those all the way to the other side. Go.”

  A quick glance back to the house made her heart almost stop. Duke hobbled toward them, blood seeping through his jeans from Alfred’s attack.

  “Go, Nathaniel, go,” she screamed. “Get to the trail.” She splashed through the water, pulling him alongside her.

  A duckling running on the grass let out a horrible yelp right before Duke stepped in the water to follow. Annie rushed to the embankment and pushed the boy up.

  He slid twice before he could reach the top. She scrambled to pull her own self up, when her phone slipped from her grip and tumbled into the water below. Her chance to call for help—gone.

  “Go.” She hollered again as she clawed the damp ground for leverage

  A large hand snaked around her ankle, gripping hard, and pulling. Each finger making an impression into her skin.

  “Agh,” she screamed and lost her grip, sliding down toward the water. “No.” She kicked, thrashing out of Duke’s grip, and reached for a fallen log to help pull herself up. Her head spun as she stood, her knees and legs shaking as she went to plant her feet.

  Neck. Middle. Groin. Neck. Middle. Groin. Neck. Middle. Groin.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way, Annie.” Duke climbed the small hill with his injured leg. “All you have to do is come home to me. Be my wife.”

  “That’ll never happen, Duke. I don’t love you.”

  Her abuser stood tall, favoring his good leg, his eyes narrowed. “The man you love is dead, Annie. And if you aren’t careful, you will be, too.”

  “You’ll have to fight me first.” Sucking in a breath, she charged, hitting his neck with her forearm. Her attack unexpected, he stumbled and lost his balance as he fell to the ground. She skipped the knee to the chest and went straight for the groin. With his legs open, her foot made straight contact to his crotch. Duke rounded in pain, and she took advantage of his distraction, running after Bear and deeper into the woods.

  She needed to stop and think, figure out her next move, but her body told her to just keep running. Get to her old home.

  She’d gotten them off the trail a few times, before she stopped to assess where they were. Nathaniel bent over in a pant. “I can’t…run,” he heaved. “I can’t run…anymore.”

  She glanced around the woods. A big tree, with relatively good limbs sat in front of them. “Remember what Tank taught you?” she whispered and patted the tree. “I want you to climb as high as you can, and be very quiet, okay?” Annie picked the boy up and placed him on the lowest branch. He immediately began his ascent. She jumped to grip the limb, but not having the upper body strength, she couldn’t pull herself up.

  “Annie,” Bear whispered, “are you coming?”

  “I can’t. You go as high as you can and be very quiet. Be the lookout. Help’s coming soon.”

  The boy nodded and continued his climb.

  She glanced around the ground and grabbed a fallen tree branch. Placing her back against a tree, and keeping Bear within her vision, she prayed help would arrive.

  Duke had entered the panic code. The dispatch center would send someone.

  They would.

  Soon.

  Tyler sprang to her mind.

  Her heart ached thinking of him…dead? Tears filled her eyes as her chest heaved, the burning from the exertion and fear overtaking her. She pressed her back deeper into the bark. She could not die like this. Nathaniel deserved better, and if Tyler really was dead, she had to fight for the boy…the way Tyler had for her.

  Please God, let someone come.

  It was their only hope.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Tank ran to the check-in desk at the hospital.

  “Can I help you?” an older lady with white hair asked.

  “My name is Tyler Wilde. I got a phone call about my mom, Clara Wilde. She’s been in a car accident.”

  The woman gave him a puzzled look. “A car accident? We haven’t received any accident victims today.”

  “You haven’t?”

  “Tank,” Father hollered from the entrance of the hospital. “I got your message.”

  “Why are you here? Why aren’t you with Annie?”

  “I sent Sandi. I wanted to be here with you. How’s Clara?”

  “I don’t know.” He turned to the receptionist again. “Can you please check again? Clara Wilde. Is she here?”

  The lady punched her keyboard. “No sir. No patient by that name.”

  “I don’t understand. There has to be. I got a phone call from the hospital…” He stopped.

  Shit. No.

  No. No. No.

  He turned to Father. “We have to go. Something’s not right.”

  The bastard. He used his own mother against him.

  “What’s going on? I don’t understand?” F
ather kept pace beside him.

  A wailing noise blared from his phone. He looked at the screen; the alarm’s app flashed bright red. “Oh God, Annie.” He darted for the door as a police cruiser flew by. “It’s Duke. He’s after her.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  He hopped on his bike and prayed he wasn’t too late. If Duke did anything to hurt Annie, or Nathaniel, he’d kill the man with his own hands.

  He sped past the police cruiser. In record time, Tank drove down his long drive. A blue pickup sat in his spot. Alfred lay on the ground, howling, as Sandi sat on the ground beside him.

  He ran to his dog. “Oh, buddy.”

  “A bullet pierced his hip. I’m trying to stop the bleeding.” She had her diner shirt over Al’s leg. “Don’t worry about Al. Go. Find Annie. I’ll get him to a vet,” she ordered just as Father and the police car pulled in.

  “What happened?” Father yelled.

  “He’s been shot,” Tank said.

  The officer stood outside his unit. “I’ll call the station to alert the vet, let them know he’s coming,” the man said as he reached inside for his radio.

  Tank ran through the house. “Annie,” he yelled. “Annie?” Milk covered the floor. He hurried to the back door. Something feathered lay motionless on the grass. He charged back through the front door yelling to the cop and Father. “He’s after her.”

  “Who’s after her?” the uniform asked.

  “Duke, the Chief of Police. That’s his truck.”

  The officer glanced at the vehicle.

  “He shot my dog, and he’s after Annie. They’re in the woods. She has a kid with her.”

  “Why is Duke after Annie? That’s his fiancée.”

  Tank stormed to the cop. “Ex-fiancée because the last time they were together he beat the shit out of her and nearly killed her. Just like he did my dog. Call for backup.”

  The cop’s eyes grew wide in fear. There was no time to argue with this dipshit. He had to find Annie.

  He ran for the back of his house and stared at the dead duckling in the grass.

  “The uniform’s calling for backup.” Father ran after him. “Did Alfred do that?” The man pointed to the pile of feathers.