Tank: Thx.
For a long time, Tank sat in his office chair, staring out the window. He knew what he had to do, but it meant choosing between the club and Lena. In his heart, there was only one choice, and that was Lena. His mind was in conflict with the tenets of the brotherhood: loyalty, honor, and respect. Since he’d first put on his cut, he’d never been faced with such a dilemma. For him, the club always came first, but at that moment, it didn’t.
Tank hadn’t pronounced Lena as his woman, so the club saw her as just another sweet piece of ass. He knew Raptor would understand that Tank had to defend her. Cougar was planning to punish Lena because Tank beat his ass, and the fucker knew that messing with her was the best way to retaliate and destroy Tank. Maniac wouldn’t have warned him if he thought it was against the club. The dilemma lay in the fact that Tank wasn’t going to let Cougar and Rubble take one more dime from Lena. He was going to stop that shit right in its tracks, and that was against the club.
“Tank? I’m having a problem with one of the printers,” Dylan said, standing in the doorway.
He pushed up from the chair. “What’s it doing?”
“Freezing up. I checked off all the boxes, and it looks like everything’s in order, but I can’t get it to unfreeze.”
“Let’s have a look.”
For over twenty minutes, Tank’s mind was on the task at hand.
“It’s fixed,” he said to Dylan.
“What was the problem?”
“The settings were off, and I needed to readjust some other things. It’s good to go.”
“Thanks.” Dylan walked over to the computer and tapped the keys. Soon the whir of the printer filled the shop as pages spewed out.
Turning to go back to the office, Tank stopped in his tracks at the sound of Quinn’s voice.
“Tank! I had to come all the way to your store just to see you.”
“I’m busy right now.”
“Too busy to say hi to an old friend—emphasis on friend and not old.” She laughed as she brushed back a few stray hairs from her face. “I’m mad at you.”
The last thing he wanted to do was entertain Quinn in his office when he had so much on his mind. He wanted to get to the restaurant before closing. He knew Cougar and Rubble wouldn’t go inside as long as customers were around; the cardinal rule in the outlaw MC world was to have no witnesses.
“We can talk another time.”
“No way. You’ve been ignoring me for too long, and I want to know why.”
Two things he could say about Quinn Fitzgerald were that she was persistent, and not above causing a scene.
“All right. Come on back.”
With a satisfied smile, she walked past him and straight into his office. She sank into one of the leather chairs and crossed her legs, hiking her skirt higher to reveal more thigh.
“You’re looking good,” she breathed as her gaze lazily traveled over his physique.
Going around the desk, Tank took his seat, tapped some information into his computer on an order, then sent it to Dylan.
“You’re ignoring me,” she whined.
“I told you, I’m busy—working.”
“Why haven’t you returned any of my texts or phone calls? After our history together, you owe me some respect.”
He pivoted away from the computer and looked at her. “Why the fuck did you let Lena believe you and I were dating?”
Quinn’s eyes widened as she leaned forward. “What? I never told anyone we were dating. Besides, I don’t even know who Leann is.”
“It’s Lena, and she owns the bistro on Main Street.”
She looked upward, as if she were thinking hard. “The bistro? Oh, yes, I think I remember her. She was the caterer at Tabby and Dawson’s engagement party, right?” A sweet smile turned up the corners of her mouth.
“You know damn well who she is.”
“Okay, now I remember her, but I don’t engage in conversations with people who are… well… not my type.”
“Cut the bullshit, Quinn. You’re pissed because we’re dating, and you lied to cause trouble. That’s pretty fuckin’ pathetic.”
Anger sparked in her blue eyes. “Is that what she told you? You’ve known her for like, two months, and we’ve known each other since high school. I’m insulted and hurt that you believed her over me.”
“It’s because I know you that I believed Lena. Stop interfering in my life. You and me are history.”
Gripping the sides of the chair, she demanded, “What do you mean?”
“Just what I said—we’re done.”
“But we’re friends.”
“No, we’re not. We were fuck buddies, and when that ended, we were two people who used to date in high school.”
“You’re dumping me for a food service worker?”
“You got it.”
“Why? I don’t get it.”
“Because I love her.” The words tumbled from his mouth, shocking him as much as they did Quinn, judging from her incredulous look.
Regaining her composure, she settled back against the chair. “You’ve got to be kidding. Didn’t you try the love and marriage thing with Trisha? Remember how well that worked out?”
“Lena’s nothing like Trish. But even if she were, it’s none of your fuckin’ business.”
“You’re letting your dick think for you. She must be a damn good lay.”
Tank stood up. “Get the fuck out of my office.”
Rising slowly to her feet, her nostrils flaring, she pulled back her shoulders and glared.
“You’re nothing but white trash, and you deserve that bitch. She better enjoy her mediocre bistro while she has it, because when I get done spreading the news about the awful food, she’ll be lucky if she can sell a croissant. Jesus, I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”
“People aren’t going to listen to you. Everyone in your circle knows your daddy got his money by crooking, stealing, and bribery. And just because you live in a fancy mansion on the cliffs, doesn’t mean shit. You and your family are nothing but scum. Those people you call friends laugh and talk shit about you and your family. Everyone knows the score. Your dad’s illegal money buys fake loyalty and silence.”
“You’re going to be sorry you spoke to me like that. I hate you, Drew. I really do.” With a dramatic flair that Tank was sure would’ve won her some kind of award in Hollywood, she stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
A few minutes later, he heard screeching tires as her gold Mercedes convertible sped away.
“Good fuckin’ riddance,” he said out loud.
Opening the drawer of his desk, he took out his Glock and a handgun. Before going to the restaurant, he’d slip the handgun in his right boot and secure the Glock in a clip holder. He didn’t trust Cougar one bit. Being an outlaw taught him to always be prepared, and to stifle emotions by approaching any problem with cool detachment. Tank had no doubt in his mind that Cougar would do the same. Afterall, he and Rubbles were outlaws. That night, it would be brother against brother.
Sighing heavily, he turned back to the computer to do some work before it was showtime.