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I fell back onto the bed, paralyzed, unsure how to proceed.
Chapter 8
Boiler
The morning light streaming through the window hit me like a harsh reality check. Tank was lying next to me, but her eyes were stormy, and I could tell she was close to breaking. Max had sprinted to the living room to watch his cartoons, leaving us in a heavy silence. Lisa had to have dropped him off while I was sleeping.
I turned to Tank, who was staring at the ceiling, her walls going up brick by brick. “Tank, you okay?”
She turned to me, her expression hardening. “This never happened, Boiler.”
“What?” I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.
“You heard me. This,” she gestured between us. “Never happened. It was a mistake.”
I sat up, rubbing my face. “A mistake? Tank, we—”
“No, Boiler,” she interrupted, her voice sharp. “It can’t happen again. I have a business to run. I have my own life. I can’t get tangled up in this... in you.”
Before I could say anything else, she was up, gathering her clothes and getting dressed. I watched, feeling helpless. Last night had felt real, like something important was starting, but now it was slipping away.
“Tank, please, let’s talk about this,” I tried again.
But she shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk about. I need to go.”
With that, she was out the door, leaving me feeling like I’d been beat. I sat briefly, trying to process everything. The night before had been incredible, but now it felt like a dream I was waking up from too soon.
A small voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “Daddy, can I have breakfast now?”
I looked over at Max, his innocent eyes full of expectation. “Sure thing, buddy.”
I got up and made us breakfast, waffles and eggs, trying to push thoughts of Tank out of my mind. But it wasn’t easy. She’d gotten under my skin, and now she was all I could think about.
After breakfast, I took Max back to my sister’s place. Lisa was a lifesaver, always willing to help out with Max when I had club business to attend to. She lived just a few blocks away, in a small house with a white picket fence that always seemed too perfect for our rough lives.
Lisa greeted us at the door with a warm smile. “Hey, Max! Ready for a fun day with Aunt Lisa?”
“Yeah!” Max ran into her arms, giggling.
Lisa looked at me, her smile fading. “You okay, Tom?”
I shrugged, feeling the weight of my worries more in her presence. “Just... a lot on my mind. Thanks for taking him again today.”
“Anytime,” she said, giving me a concerned look. “You know I’m here if you need to talk. I could hear you had company last night. I hope you don’t mind, but I left you three messages about Max being sound asleep in his bed.”
Tank and I had been so into one another, I hadn’t even checked my phone. I nodded, grateful for her support, but not ready to unload everything. “Thanks, sis. I appreciate it.”
Leaving Max with Lisa, I headed to the clubhouse. The familiar roar of bikes and the smell of oil and leather smacked me as I walked in. This place was my second home, and these men were my family.
“Boiler!” Bull hollered, his voice cutting through all the commotion. “Got a job for you.”
I headed over to him, giving a nod to some of the guys as I went by. Bull was our VP, a biker with a no-nonsense attitude. And he was full of shit, hence the name. “What’s up?”
“We’ve got a situation with one of our suppliers. Need you to go down there and straighten things out.”
“On it,” I said, already switching into enforcer mode.
As I left, I couldn't stop thinking about Tank. I tried to push the thoughts away, focusing on the task at hand. But it was hard. She’d stirred something in me, something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
