Tank: A Steel Paragons MC Novel

by Eve R. Hart

  I may not have known a lot about what she did, but I knew that she had this guy that she often helped out. See, with all her screens she had eyes practically everywhere. Well, everywhere that mattered in our dark world. She kept watch over the outlaws. I didn’t know which ones and I never asked. I knew some various groups, but for the most part, I kept my nose out of anything that wasn’t in my world. And my world was killer for hire. I knew my main competitions and the up and coming.

  But Lucy, she kept watch on everything. And she had this one guy, whose name I didn’t know, that she helped out. When she got a whiff that something was going down that pertained to his business, she would call him and give him a heads up. She would disguise her voice and always blocked her number. She was an amazing hacker and when she called him she somehow made it say something different every time. It was always cute or catchy so he would know it was her that was calling. And from what I’d heard, he’d never once missed her call. She’d only told me because she needed someone to talk to. Even if she wouldn’t admit it, she was a hopeless romantic deep in her heart. Maybe that was why we worked because I was the complete opposite.

  Anyway, she for some reason got drunk one night, courtesy of the pizza delivery boy that she bribed to bring her a bottle of wine with her pepperoni and spinach pie; and told me everything. She needed an outlet and I was happy to be that. She confessed that she had been watching this guy, who she never gave a name for. She, for some strange reason, had seen the good in him and decided to help him out. Through her short conversations with him, she’d learned a few things about him and found herself in deep with the feelings towards this guy. But I couldn’t figure out why.

  Maybe it was that I never knew, or cared to know, anything about love. I lived my life on the move and never stopped long enough to care about anyone who’d briefly passed through my life.

  “Things have been crazy,” she said. “I think something big is coming.”

  “Hmmm.” I didn’t push for more. I left it open for her to tell me if she wanted.

  “Anyway. This last time he asked me to stay on the phone with him.”

  “Yeah, and?” I said, urging her to keep going.

  “Well, I tried. I really did. But after about three minutes I freaked out and hung up.” She groaned and I could hear a thump of what I imagined was her hitting her head on her desk in frustration and embarrassment.

  I softly laughed as I cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder. I reached down the side of the chair and pulled out the handgun that I had stored there. Believe me when I tell you it was just one of many hidden around my place. I began to disassemble and reassembling it as I carried on the conversation with Lucy. It was like second nature at that point and the repetition calmed me.

  “So, what are you going to do then?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she groaned. “I just feel so stupid sometimes. I used to be good with people. I could actually carry on a conversation. And now…”

  I resisted the urge to point out that she had sort of done it to herself. Not that I didn’t think that she had some legitimate mental issues when it came to leaving her apartment. I understood that it was a real thing. But I also knew that she hadn’t always been that way. She sometimes alluded to a life before this. A so-called normal one, where she had amazing parents, a huge house, and was head of the cheer squad or some shit. Stuff that I never understood.

  And because I was always the skeptic and always looking for what angle everyone had, I opened my mouth and voiced my thoughts.

  “What do you think was the point of it?” My voice was monotone.

  “Huh?” she asked a little caught off guard.

  “Why do you think that all of a sudden he wanted to get you talking?” My hand froze midair as all the scenarios and reasons played in my mind.

  “Wha- No… I don’t think—” She stopped talking and I felt a tiny bit bad that I’d dampened her little happy moment. She obviously wasn’t even thinking there was a deeper reason for it. I had a feeling she was in some giddy world where she was just plain hoping that he wanted to talk to her and get to know her. I opened my mouth to apologize—something I didn’t do often—when she spoke again. “Looks like your guy is up and moving.”

  I set my phone down and put her on speaker as I pulled up the cameras in the house. After he’d left my place, he went home, had what looked like a small break down, and then passed out on the couch in his usual spot. I had been checking on him off and on again but the day was pretty much a bore.

  I scrolled through until I found the right camera. He shuffled around, moving towards the kitchen and heading straight for the coffee maker. His movements were slow as he readied the filter and added the water. I found myself slightly surprised. I figured I would have found him with a bottle of Jack in one hand.

  “Is he making coffee?” Her voice shocked me through the speaker. I had almost forgotten that I had her on the phone, again.

  “Looks like,” I said as if it wasn’t a big deal. My voice didn’t hold the same surprise that hers did. But something inside me warmed at the fact that he was doing something different from the routine I’d seen. He wasn’t automatically waking and reaching for whatever bottle was the closest that had something still left in it.

  He hit the start button then rested his hands on the edge of the counter. He didn’t move and his gaze was locked straight ahead out the window that was over the sink. I squinted at the screen trying to figure out what he was looking at. Unfortunately, the angle was all wrong and I couldn’t see much past the wrap around porch.

  “What’s he doing?” she asked, trying to figure out the same thing I was.

  Sometimes it was actually nice that she could see what I could. However, this job had been like no other. I couldn’t pinpoint why, though. I watched him as he stood, unmoving, and I wished I had a shot of him from the front. I wanted to see his face. I wanted to see his expression. More than all that, I wanted to be inside his head and know what he was thinking about. But I could tell from his slumped shoulders and slow breaths that he was clearly lost in whatever thought held him captive at that moment.

  Then it hit me like a sharp knife in between my ribs. I had watched people before. I’d seen their most hidden moments. I had invaded their lives without them even knowing. But this time it felt wrong. I almost hated myself as the seconds ticked by and I kept my eyes glued to the screen.

  His head shook and he leaned closer to the window. He brought his hand up and rubbed it over his beard on the side that had the lighter spots on it. I realized then that he was looking at his own reflection in the glass. I wondered if he saw the same thing I saw. Beneath all that hair was a beautiful man and I longed to know what he was like before all the heaviness of what he’d been through weighed him down.

  I found myself imagining what he would look like when he smiled and how his full bottom lip of his would pull. Would he give a half smile, with one side of his mouth tipping up more than the other? Or would it be a full-on, face splitting, teeth showing smile? What would he sound like if he laughed? I bet it would be deep and loud. I imagined he would toss his head back as he bellowed to the sky and the rough rumbling sound would vibrate through the air.

  But that was all just crazy thoughts. Really, really crazy. Because I didn’t care and I didn’t need to see or hear the answers to any of those questions. I had no right wondering about such things.

  “What happened to you?” I whispered without realizing it.

  “I’m here.” Lucy’s voice snapped me back to reality. “But you weren’t talking to me, where you?”

  I swallowed hard and brought my mask back down. This was a job and I was getting really irritated that I felt like I kept having to remind myself of that.

  “Don’t you have some other people to watch,” I said trying to sound playful. Instead, it came out more of a bark.

  “Yep, sure. I’ll leave you alone with your stalker porn,” she said brushing off my harshness a
nd I loved her for that. “Call me if you need anything.” Then she was gone.

  The rest of the day was uneventful. He drank his coffee and even opened a few windows. But hours later, he was back to drowning his demons or whatever it was that plagued his mind. He passed out sometime right after the sun went down.

  I almost wished that it was my night to work because I really could have used the distraction. I was sure that if I had something to do I wouldn’t have spent nearly five hours with my nose practically touching my phone screen. Even the two times it screamed at me that my battery was going to die, I didn’t stop. I just simply plugged it in and carried on.

  I took a shower trying to wash away the dirty feeling I had crawling just under the surface of my skin. I read, hoping it would carry my mind in a different direction.

  But when I finally crawled into my bed, and his scent filled the air around me, I gave in to all the questions my brain wanted answers to. And what it boiled down to, was that I wanted to know his story. I wanted to know everything. I couldn’t close the chapter on this job until I had the rest of the book.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Tank

  Another week went by, the same as the last and the one before that. I didn’t leave the house except to hit the store.

  I hardly ate. Every time I put something in my mouth I immediately wanted to throw up. I didn’t care about anything but reliving all of my mistakes and then doing my best to blur them to the point they went away. My life was going nowhere but that is exactly where I thought it should be. I didn’t deserve to live. Every second, every breath, I missed Logan.

  My memories were starting to fade slightly. The scenes not as crisp in my mind as they once had been. His smile not as bright as I knew it was. His laugh not as loud and his eyes missing that sparkle in the steel color. I tried so hard to replay the memories over and over in my head so they wouldn’t slip away. But it wasn’t helping. I wondered how long it would be before I forgot everything about him and the though completely gutted me.

  I could remember the night of the explosion so vividly that I often woke up with my skin on fire and the smell of smoke singeing my nose. I could hear the shattering of the glass as it blew out and the crack of the wood as it splintered and flew at me. But I couldn’t hold onto the good things.

  I was angry. I was sad. I was tired. But most of all I was just numb. How I could feel all those things and not feel anything at the same time was beyond me. I didn’t want to help myself, yet I wasn’t sure if I wanted to ever reach the bottom. I loved my life before all of this shit happened. I had it all. A great family—even if it wasn’t perfect, the amazing love of my child, a club to watch my back, and two fucking great best friends. One of which, had finally found his happiness and I had been there to see it happen.

  And while I had once been happy for Diesel, I remembered that he had everything I no longer did. He got his second chance. His little girl was so beautiful and I remembered seeing that look on his face when she was born. I had that same look the first time I held Logan. I was disgusted with myself that I hated him for still having it all while I’d lost everything. I knew it hurt him the most, after my mom, that was, that I’d walked away. He wanted to be there for me, help me, but I couldn’t even stand to be around him. It hurt too much.

  I left everyone.

  I wanted to be alone. Yet, I found myself leaving the cabin that night again. A small part of me wanted to keep the promise that I had made. Keeping my word to my brothers was in my blood, even if I wasn’t there with them. I left at the worst time and the thing that made me feel the shittiest was that they understood and let me go. They didn’t try too hard to make me stay and they didn’t spit on me for turning my back on them when they needed me the most. They understood, and with the best intentions in their heart, let me go.

  I drove my truck down the mountain, hours after the sun had gone down. It was easier for me to go out in the dark. The world felt as cold as my soul then. Plus, I was under no illusion that I was normal looking. I had ugly burn scars on visible parts of my body. My hair was long and a mess. I couldn’t tell you when the last time I’d even brushed it. Sure, my size alone was enough to frighten children and make their mothers pull them closer to their side, but in the state of I-don’t-give-a-fuck that I was in made me even more menacing looking. Little did they know, I’d never hurt the innocent.

  The light in the window at the bar caught my attention. Sighing, I swung my truck into the exact same space that I’d parked in just a week ago. I told myself that it was the booze that brought me there and it being the only bar in town, it was the place to go. But inside I wondered if it was more than that. With where my head was at, I wouldn’t let myself indulge in any other reason, though.

  I certainly hadn’t thought about her since the moment I’d walked out of her apartment a week ago. No, I certainly didn’t spend a few hours replaying our interactions trying to figure her out. Those few words she spoke to me definitely did not replay over and over in my head to the point I felt like I was going crazy. I was in no place to even give a damn about my own self, let alone anyone else. Not just anyone, someone who I didn’t even know or cared to know. Selfish as it may have been, I was too far down the dark spiral to even entertain any other thoughts or feelings. So as much as I may have let her wiggle her way into the outer edges of my brain, I didn’t have it in me to try and process what it might have meant.

  The fall was turning into winter and you could feel it in the air that night. The wind whipped violently around me, chilling straight through to the bone as I made my way up to the building.

  I pulled open the door and walked in. It had the same fill of people as the previous week. The same two guys sat at the far end of the bar. I took the exact spot that I’d last week, and when I looked up behind the bar, I found the same tall, thick-haired beauty that had taken care of my pathetic ass the week before. Her posture was tight and tall, back straight, head held high, and I could tell she knew I was there even though her head didn’t turn to look my way.

  I waited and waited. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction that the fact that she hadn’t acknowledged me was making me pissy. I could smell the mix of alcohol in the air and all I wanted was a fucking drink.

  I ducked my head still watching her under my brow. Still not giving me her eyes, she reached out to her right and grabbed a bottle filled to the brim with a beautiful light caramel glow. She turned and I watched her hips sway slightly as she came towards to me. I’d known my fair share of women, but her walk was all natural. She wasn’t trying to saunter in a way that would catch my eye. But still, it had been a damn long time that something as simple as a woman’s walk had caught my attention. Maybe it was everything catching up with me and the giant fact that it had been over five years since I had even touched a woman. The thought of fucking anything died the day I realized I stuck my dick in crazy and disappointment. From the moment that bitch walked out of our life, it was like that part of me just shut down. The traumatizing fear was always in the forefront of my mind that history would repeat itself if I even went near a pussy again.

  But that was neither here nor there. I wasn’t going to go down that road and I sure as hell wasn’t going to overthink it.

  Before she could make it all the way to me, an older man stepped up to the bar. By his sway and slow movements, I could tell that he was already three sheets to the wind.

  “I need another one, sweetheart,” the man’s voice boomed in an unfriendly tone.

  I shouldn’t have cared, this was her shit to deal with and I was sure that working in a place like this she was accustom to dealing with demanding drunks. However, it didn’t stop me from straightening my spine as I took the man in.

  He had to have been in his late fifties. His hair was all gray and hung shabby around his eyes.

  “I think you are done for the night, Mr. Leery. Your daughter should be here any minute to pick you up,” she spoke to him in a calm, but not soot
hing, way.

  It was as if she’d done this song and dance before.

  She abandoned the bottle of liquor that was destined for me on the bar top as she made her way around to the man. My eyes zeroed in on the bottle almost like I was trying to call it towards me.

  “Come on,” she said slipping her arm around his waist I assumed to help him outside.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw the man stagger and then jerk away from her violently. No one else did anything, so I stayed rooted on my seat.

  “Get me another drink! That’s what I pay you for! What? My money’s no good for you either?” The man turned belligerent.

  That was the moment I fully turned my head to the scene. Her eyes caught mine and she pinned me with a hard stare. For some reason, my brain understood she was telling me to stay put. She tried again, pulling the man along with a strange gentle touch. But he wasn’t having it. He began to lash out again, his arms going in all different directions with angry jerks. His empty glass hit the bar top with a thud and shattered.

  “No!” he screamed and one of his arms whacked her good on the shoulder, sending her stumbling into the bar.

  The collision had me on my feet and moving without any thought. The only thing I could think about was to protect the woman, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t take my help easily. Standing between the two of them, my back to the man, I was happy to see that other patrons had moved in to help. I gripped her shoulder holding her upright, though I knew she didn’t need it. She sucked in a barely noticeable breath at my touch, but I didn’t let go.