Page 27 of Tank
I force the words out, my voice shaking.
“He sent me here to kill you. For revenge. The Fury bike, the knife, the Viper ambush—it was all part of his plan. He wants you dead, wants the Fury back. But I…” I pause, my chest tight. “I can’t do it, Tank. I thought I could, but I can’t. Not after everything. Not after you.”
Tank stands, towering over me, his fists clenched.
I brace myself, expecting a punch or worse, but he just stares, his eyes a mix of rage and something else—hurt, maybe.
“You came here to kill me,” Tank says, his voice raw. “Played me, got in my bed, all to put a knife in my back.”
“No,” I say, stepping closer, desperate. “It started that way, but it’s not like that anymore. You saved me, Tank. You… you meansomething to me. I’m telling you the truth now because I can’t keep lying. I can’t hurt you.”
He laughs, a harsh, bitter sound.
“You think that makes it better?” Tank says dismissively. “You’re Marco’s kid, and you’ve been playing us from the start. You know what Clay will do if he finds out? He’ll bury you. And I meanburyyou.”
“I know,” I say, my voice breaking. “That’s why I’m telling you. I’m done with it, Tank. I’m done with my father’s hate. I just… I need you to believe me.”
He steps closer, his breath hot, his eyes blazing.
“Believe you? After you lied to my face? Got in my head, my bed, knowing you were here to end me? You’re lucky I don’t snap your neck right now.”
I flinch, but I don’t back down.
“Then do it,” I snap. “If that’s what you think I deserve, go ahead. But I’m telling you, I’m not that guy anymore. I’m here because I want you, not because of him.”
He grabs my shirt, pulling me close, his face inches from mine.
For a second, I think he’s gonna snap my neck, but he just holds me there, his grip bruising.
“You’re a fucking liar,” Tank growls, but his voice cracks, like he’s fighting something inside. “I should kill you. But I…”
He pauses, his eyes searching mine, and I see it—the conflict, the want, the same mess I’m drowning in.
“Then let me go,” I whisper. “If you don’t trust me, let me walk away.”
He releases me, stepping back, his hands shaking.
“Get out,” Tank says, his voice low, deadly. “Leave town. Don’t show your face here again. If Clay finds out who you are, you’redead. Go, Rocco.Now.”
I nod, my chest aching like it’s been cracked open.
I want to say more, to beg him to believe me, but his eyes are cold, unyielding.
I’ve lost him.
I turn and walk out, my boots heavy on the floorboards, the weight of his words crushing me.
The desert night hits me as I step outside, the stars mocking me with their clarity.
I climb onto my bike, the engine roaring to life, and ride into the dark, not knowing where I’m going, only that I’ve just burned everything to the ground—and not just with Tank, but with my father too…
Chapter 9
Tank
The clubhouse is a war room tonight, the air thick with tension and the smell of gun oil. Clay’s back at the head of the table, his gravelly voice laying out the intel like a death sentence.
“The Fury’s back,” Clay says, his eyes hard as steel. “Marco’s leading them, regrouped with some new blood, mostly family ties but some other misfits too. They’re planning a strike on us, soon. But we hit them first.”
