Page 79 of Tank
Victor shrugs, casual, cruel, like he’s discussing the weather. “Unless you do something real noble, real soon, yeah.”
Ricky drops all pretense of resistance. The scrappy, wounded ball of fight beside me just withers, staggers into the open with his bleeding arms raised, his desperation spilling out in a voice I’ve never heard from him before.
“I surrender! Just save her! Please!”
The room is still, holding its breath. Every gun turns on me. I draw in a breath that feels like my last as I face the impossible. Victor’s ultimatum hangs heavy in the air, and I know the choice that will decide everything is mine. Goddamn him, it’s mine.
I could drop my weapon and hope Victor keeps his word, hope Vanessa survives, hope Bianca forgives me. I could keep fighting and risk losing them both, risk losing everything, risk failing Bianca in the one way I swore I never would. I've fought back against every bad hand, every bad man that's tried to fuck with me… but this? This is an entirely different breed of fight. This is one I can't win unless I do the one thing I've spent my entire life refusing to do: surrender.
Bianca stares down at me. I see it in her eyes, all the things she’s never said but wanted to — that she needs me; that she trusts me; that she loves me. She’s still breathing, but the gun at her head is a weight that crushes the air out of my lungs.
For the first time, I feel powerless.
I feel fear.
My fingers twitch toward my backup pistol.
I lock eyes with Bianca. She's mouthing something. A single word.Please.
I press my hand to the grip behind my back.
I hesitate. Goddamn it, I love her. I love her more than I’ve ever loved anything. And right now, that might be the one thing that gets her killed.
I see Ricky in the corner of my eye, his face a map of tears and anger and fear. I see the faces of Victor's mercenaries, hungry for the order to pull their triggers. I see Bianca, and I see futures where she is alive, and futures where she is dead. I see myself, exposed and alone, and desperately wishing I was anywhere but here.
I step forward.
Victor’s smirk widens.
I squeeze my hand around the grip of my gun. My head is a riot, my heart a grenade; I do the only thing I can do, the thing I’ve never done before — I drop everything. All my weapons. Every last one.
I drop them and pray Victor will keep his word.
Chapter Forty-Two
Bianca
Tank's eyes pierce through the chaos, finding mine from where he kneels among the wreckage on the stage. His face is a map of violence — a line of blood drips steadily from his jaw, a spreading splash of bruises blooms darkly along his temple, and his shirt is mottled with gore, some his and some from my brother’s men. His voice is hoarse but steady, each word laden with meaning: “I surrender.” A breath, and then he demands, “But you need to let her go. Let her and Vanessa go. They deserve better than this.”
Victor grins, wide and merciless, like some triumphant demon inhaling the heat of hell. “How touching. I think it’s time we wrap this little drama up.” He slides the gun away from its place at my temple and aims it with finality at Tank. “Say goodnight, you fucking pissant baker.”
And then Tank turns, his eyes locking on mine with a fierceness that makes the world go silent. “I love you, Bianca.”
My heart splits open, a fragile thing in a brutal world. I was wrong about him, so wrong. To think this man — this brutal killer — would so willingly submit himself to death just for the chance to save my life brings a flood of tears to my eyes. “I love you, too.”
Victor’s laughter cracks like a whip. “Isn’t that sweet? Too bad it’s the last thing you’ll ever say. Is that really how you want to die? Mewling about your love like some fucking pussy?”
Panic gallops in my chest. I struggle to move, to act, to save him. My body strains against Victor’s vise-like grip. But his arm is a bar of iron, crushing against my ribs, holding me immobile.
And Tank… Tank kneels there, bloodied but unbroken, a monument to endurance and sacrifice. He waits, still and resolute, every inch the man I love. He is everything.
And I realize I can’t watch him die.
I can’t do it.
I can’t watch the man I love be executed like this.
With every ounce of will I have left, I clamp my eyes shut, denying the scene unfurling in front of me. My body shakes with a fevered intensity, muscles spasming under the weight of the choice I’ve made. My nails dig deep into my palms, drawing droplets of blood. I can endure the sound of his last moments, the harrowing noise of violence, but I will not carry the vision of his death seared into my brain. I will not let it haunt me for all my days. Part of me will be spared; it has to be. I don’t know if I could survive the sight, and I won't let Tank die for nothing. My thoughts race, tumbling, leaping, crashing against the inside of my skull. I need to make it out of here. I have to get Vanessa out of here, no matter what, no matter the cost.
