Page 35 of Tank

"C'mon. Let's get you inside."

I keep an arm around her as I grab our bags, guiding her up the creaky steps. The cabin smells of must and old pine, but it's clean. Stocked. Tank's leathers creak as he dumps the bags and secures the door. The click of the deadbolt feels like a firing pin to my nerves.

Sophie wanders the small space, arms hugged around herself, looking lost. Shadows press against the windows. I flip on a lamp, scattering them to the corners.

"You're exhausted. Why don't you lie down for a bit? I'll keep watch."

She hesitates, eyeing the narrow bed tucked against the wall. "Will you...will you hold me? Just until I fall asleep?" Her voice is small. Uncertain.

Something fierce and protective surges in my chest. I cross to her in two long strides, folding her into my arms. She came to my clubhouse battered and broken, but there's a defiant strength in her that calls to me. A need to shield her, even from her own demons.

"For as long as you need, little one. I've got you now. Always will."

I stretch us out on the bed, spooning her from behind. She presses back into my warmth, slowly relaxing. I bury my nose in her hair, breathing in her scent beneath the smoke and fear-sweat. My little warrior.

As her breathing deepens and evens out, I let my mind drift. Mapping out what needs to be done. Because this is far from over. But with my brothers at my back and Sophie in my arms, I know we'll ride through the flames.

Together.

The sun dips below the trees, casting the safehouse in a soft, golden glow. Sophie stirs against me, blinking awake. She twists in my arms, her eyes finding mine. There's a vulnerability there that tugs at my heart, but beneath it, a flicker of something fierce. Unbreakable.

"Hey," I murmur, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Feeling better?"

She nods, a small smile curving her lips. "Thank you. For everything."

"Anytime, little one."

We untangle slowly, reluctantly. The safehouse is small - just a main room with a kitchenette and the tiny bedroom. But it's got food and running water. Enough for the night.

In the kitchen, I rummage through the cabinets while Sophie perches on a stool, watching me. The silence stretches, not uncomfortable, but weighted with unspoken things. Finally, I set two steaming bowls of canned soup and some slightly stale crackers on the counter.

"Dinner is served," I say with a wry grin. "Gourmet shit right here."

That earns me a real smile - quick and bright, like the sun peeking through clouds. We eat in companionable quiet, the clinking of spoons the only sound. But I can practically hear the gears turning in her head.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I ask softly.

She sighs, poking at her soup. "It's just...what if they find me, Tank? Zeke's crew. He'll kill me this time for sure. For running."

White-hot rage sears through my veins at the fear in her voice, the scars on her body. "That motherfucker will never touch you again. I won't let that happen. I promise you, Sophie."

Under the table, her hand finds mine, squeezing tight. "I trust you." Simple words, but they land like a punch to the gut. Because trust is hard-earned and easily broken in our world.

Dinner finished, I stack the dishes in the sink and turn back to Sophie. She's watching me again, her eyes dark and fathomless in the low light. Something hot and aching uncurls in my chest.

"Tank..." She reaches for me, and I go willingly, drawn like a moth to flame.

Our lips meet, soft and searching at first, then deeper, urgent. Need flows between us like a livewire. My hands roam her body, mapping every curve and hollow, committing them to memory.

Sophie presses closer, molding herself against me, and the last threads of my control snap. I hoist her up, her legs locking around my waist, and carry her to the bed. Our clothes fall away, no barriers, no secrets. Just skin against skin.

I worship her with lips and hands and tongue, pouring every ounce of tenderness I possess into this moment. Showing her with touch what I can't yet say in words - that she's cherished, safe, mine.

Sophie arches beneath me, her fingers digging into my shoulders, anchoring me. I sink into her, our hearts pounding in sync. We move together, give and take, push and pull. Chasing release, absolution.

When we shatter, we shatter as one, clinging to each other as pleasure crashes through us in waves. In the aftermath, I gather her close, pressing reverent kisses to her hair, her temple.

There will be hard roads ahead, I know. Blood and violence and pain. But with her...it feels like hope. Like new beginnings.

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