Page 32 of Tank’s Weakness

“You think we don’t already know? You think I’m out here expecting you to tell me the truth without knowing what the actual truth is?”

“You broke my fucking nose.”

“Yeah, and if you don’t start confessing to your fucking sins, I am going to break your fucking jaw,” I growl.

“Fuck, man. I’m not running it. Seriously. This other dude runs it, but he pays me to show up and gamble. I’m part security, part credibility. He didn’t think anyone with real money would show up without someone shady in the mix.” He spits out blood, looking down at the ground.

“Fox says otherwise. I read the file, man.”

He sighs. “It’s meant to look like it’s not him running it. He is a legit guy. Runs in circles that would get him in trouble if they found out what he was doing. He doesn’t want his career fucked up.”

“So you offered up your services? For a price? Did that seem smart, dude? Do you even fucking know the bylaws? No brother will take on illegal activities outside of the club sanctioned ones. You could be kicked out or fucking killed,” I remind him.

“You think I do it because of the money? Guy has dirt on me. Caught me banging the mayor’s wife a while back. Threatened to tell him. I’m doing this to save the club,” he hisses.

“You are a fucking idiot. I’m going to give you an ass beating then you are going to the clubhouse and tell Smoke everything. I do mean everything. You won’t leave anything out.”

“Yeah, man. I got it.”

I shake my head. “Take it like a man.”

Then I go to work, beating him until he has a black eye and several bruises to remember me by. I leave him well enough to ride, but that’s only because I don’t want to have to figure out how to get him back to the clubhouse.

“Next time, you go to the pigs,” I tell him as he lies on the ground moaning. “Don’t ever break the rules again.”

Leaving him to pull himself together, I walk back toward my bike.

Looking down at my fists, I see the blood.

This is my job. It’s what I do.

I’m the enforcer, and it’s time these new guys remember it.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Delaney

The class cheers as the bell for lunch sounds off, making me laugh. They all rush toward the door, and I follow behind.

Mrs. Stephensen steps out of her classroom at the same time I do.

“If I weren’t just as hungry as they are, I would be offended that they are so excited to get away from me,” she teases, making me laugh.

“Right? It’s a little insulting, but I need the break as much as they do.”

Once we see that our kids are safely inside the cafeteria, we head to the teachers’ lounge.

“Whatever you made smells amazing,” I tell her as she sits down across from me.

“It’s just some lasagna my husband made.” She smiles.

“You found a man who can cook? Show me your ways,” I tease, making her laugh.

“He found me. I take it you’re single.”

Without overthinking it, I reply, “I actually just started seeing someone. It’s new…maybe I should ask him if he cooks.”

Clear as day, I can picture Tank standing at the stove with nothing but an apron on and a butt plug in his ass as he cooks me dinner.