“Come and play with me.”
Tank looked the woman up and down, turned his back on her, and kept on walking.
Bell’s heart went out to the woman, but she wasn’t going to get involved. Especially as another biker wrapped his arm around the woman and started moving her back into the clubhouse. The woman in question merely laughed as if it was all just a game.
“Was she your girlfriend?” Bell asked.
“I don’t have girlfriends.”
Chapter Two
“Is this really necessary?” Tank asked.
The doctor flipped through his file on Tank. It was getting thick. He was surprised he was still alive at this point in his life.
“Lord insists I follow up on all major surgeries.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Tank said. “I’m here, ain’t I?”
“It was a serious gunshot wound,” he said. “You hit vital organs.”
He’d been shot in the stomach during their last encounter with the Skull Nation MC. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to protect his club. It was a small price to pay. He’d done most of what the doctor had ordered since his surgery and felt fine, ready to move on with his life. This wasn’t his first gunshot wound and probably wouldn’t be the last.
Tank humored the doctor and let him do his exam. If he refused, he’d have Lord up his ass. He preferred not to piss off his prez.
They were doing a run tonight, and it could get ugly. But, instead of worrying about the details, he was focused on that little blonde with the killer ass. She was sweet and innocent—the last thing he needed in his life. Yet he was drawn to her, excited with the prospect of seeing her the next time. She made him laugh, made him feel like he wasn’t an abomination.
But the last thing he needed was a woman. Tank loved sex, but that was all it ever was. He didn’t commit. Most people were afraid of him, many in his own club. It wasn’t just the fact he was six feet, eight inches of power and muscle, earning him his road name, but he had a reputation that was all based in truth. If the club needed him to kill, he didn’t think twice—no matter who it was. He never let emotions get in the way.
Bell brought out something in him he couldn’t explain. Maybe because he could be himself around her or that she wasa civilian and he had nothing to prove to her. Or maybe he was getting weak in his old age, falling for the first pretty smile. There were no happily-ever-afters for men like him, so he was a fucking idiot for even entertaining the idea.
He left the infirmary and headed out to the yard to get his bike ready. He ran into the VP and his wife heading to their room.
“Lord was looking for you,” Brick said.
“Where is he?”
The VP pointed out the barbecue pit. “Don’t keep him waiting.”
Tank headed down to the pit to look for Lord. The run wasn’t for another few hours, so he wasn’t sure what he wanted from him. He didn’t have a good feeling about it. Being club secretary usually had him on the prez’s shit list. He wasn’t the one creating the numbers, he just kept track of everything. Tank may not have a fancy degree, but he was honest and wouldn’t consider taking a penny more than his share from the club.
He found Lord sitting back in a chair, nursing a beer. A few brothers were standing around.
“Brick said you were looking for me,” he said.
Lord turned to face him. “How’d it go with the doc? You get the all-clear?”
“I’ve been good to go for months.”
Lord shrugged, uninterested. “When you guys go out tonight, I want you to take this prospect with you. Teach him shit. Show him how it’s done.” He nodded to the kid standing by the barrel they used for fires at night. Tank didn’t recognize him, so he must be seriously fresh meat.
Tank was forty-two, bitter, and set in his ways. The last thing he wanted to do was babysit this asshole. He had more duties than most with all records and reports he had to work on every day.
“Why me?”
“Don’t cry about it,” Lord said. “Just do as I ask.”
“Yeah. Okay. If he gets himself killed, don’t come to me.” He glared at the prospect before heading over to the bikes. He knew they needed to increase their numbers, but he never had a soft spot for the new recruits, not until they proved themselves trustworthy and able to protect the club with their lives. All of that took time. He couldn’t count the number of prospects that couldn’t make the cut. Some came with disillusions and weren’t ready for how dark and dirty club life really was. It wasn’t just about parties and sex, although that was a big part of it. They had turf to protect and enemies to cut down. Not much of what they did was legal, so they always had to look over their shoulders.