Page 70 of Snake (Road Rebels MC 3)
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“I don’t think you’ll understand,” Tank said as he sat beside me, studying my face carefully.
“Try me,” I said, and he took in a deep breath.
“I don’t think you’ll like what you’ll hear,” he continued, and I smiled.
“I promise that I won’t judge you for anything you say,” I reassured him, and Tank ran a hand through his long wavy hair.
“I’m part of a Motorcycle Club,” he said, and I nodded my head.
“The Bad Disciples,” I added and he knotted his brows.
“How do you know that?” he asked and I smiled again.
“I saw a patch on your friend’s jacket. I was wondering if you belonged to the same club,” I explained and Tank clenched his jaw. He was expecting me to break at any point now. I was breaking. The fact that he had now admitted in his own words that he belonged to an MC was terrifying, but I tried to remain calm and hear him out.
“Do you know what that means?” he asked and I gulped before I nodded my head.
“I have some idea, but only from perception. I’ve never met anyone from an MC before,” I admitted, and Tank’s eyes grew a little diffused like he was beginning to feel sorry for me.
“We don’t exactly have jobs, but we make a lot of money. Do you understand what I’m saying?” he continued, and I could feel my mouth growing dry.
“You mean you earn the money through…by…committing crimes?” I asked, and Tank sighed.
“According to some laws, yes, through criminal activity. But, Noelle, you should know that neither I nor any of my brothers from the MC would ever hurt a civilian. Someone outside our clubs,” he said, and I could feel a tremble in my fingertips. I could never have imagined myself having a conversation like this with a stranger. With someone I hardly knew. I gulped and nodded my head.
“I want you to understand, that we run our lives and our clubs like any other business, and we keep our problems within our own world. We operate on strict rules and codes of conduct. We would never hurt any women or children, you have to trust me on that,” he was peering into my eyes as he spoke, trying to judge my reaction. Even though I could feel my mind exploding with all the information he was giving me, I nodded my head.
“I trust you, Tank,” I said in a quiet voice, and he nodded as well.
“We trade in drugs and weapons, that is our business model. Any violence as a result of that is because we can’t help it. We would like nothing more than peace. We don’t go looking for violence. We’re not sadistic bastards as the world would like to believe we are,” he went on, and I nodded my head.
“I never thought you were,” I said, and I met his eyes. He knew I was frightened by everything he was saying, but I had asked for it. He was only telling me what I requested to know.
“Is that how you got shot?” I asked, and Tank took a few moments to reply. He stared at me like he was deciding whether to trust me or not. This was working two-ways. He needed to trust me as much as I needed to believe him.
“We got ambushed. We were overseeing a delivery of weapons shipment at the docks, and we got ambushed by a rival club. I walked into a round of fire to catch them, and I got shot,” Tank said, and I saw his biceps clench with fury. I could see how he was affected by the incident. Like he wanted to get out of the hospital as fast as he could so that he could do something about it.
“Are you going to take vengeance on them? On the rival gang?” I asked, in a meek voice. I didn’t want to verbally admit it, but I was afraid for his life. What would a confrontation lead to? Would Tank get shot again? Would he narrowly escape death again the way he had this time?
Tank didn’t reply. Instead, he continued staring at me, and I knew my answer.
I stood up from the bed with a jerk.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, Noelle. You wanted to know,” he said, and I wrung my hands together.
“But you’re going to walk into gunfire again, aren’t you? You’re going to put your life at risk again!” I argued and noticed how my voice was quivering as I spoke.
Tank breathed in deeply, his gaze flitting intensely over my body again.
“Every day involves putting my life at risk, on this job, Noelle. That is the world I live in, and the code I live by. I don’t want to scare you,” he replied, and I backed away from him. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have visited him here. I shouldn’t have asked him to explain his life to me.
“You could get shot again!” I cried out, and Tank stood up. He towered over me and followed me as I backed away towards the wall.
“Yes, Noelle, I could get shot again,” he said, and I could feel my neck burning up, a cry rising in my throat. Even if I never saw this man again, I didn’t want him to get shot. I didn’t want him to put his life in danger every day. I wanted to scream, I wanted him to promise me that he would get out of the MC. But what right did I have over him? We had met only a few days ago. We weren’t even in a relationship, and after today, I might never see him again.
“So, now you know the truth. You know the world I belong to. Do you regret coming here and speaking to me?” he asked and I tried to even my heavy breathing. The closer he drew to me, the more I was reminded of how much I wanted him.
“No. I needed to know, and now I know,” I said, and for a second, I thought Tank was going to reach for me. His arms flinched, but he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his track pants instead. He had changed his mind.
“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you,” he said, in a low gruff voice and I shook my head.
“You’ve not disappointed me, Tank. I just want you to be safe. I don’t want to find you in the corridors of this hospital again, on a gurney, bleeding out of your stomach. I don't want to have to see an open wound on your body again!” I felt crazy as I said the words. I could feel my whole body shaking. Nothing was making sense to me anymore. Why was I losing my self-control like this? What kind of hold did Tank have on me to make me behave this way?
He had been staring at me, with a blank expression on his face, so that I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked, and I crossed my brows in surprise.
“What?” I snapped, and Tank stepped closer to me. He kept his hands to himself, as though he was afraid that if he touched me, he would break me.
“Will you let me take you out on a real date?” he asked, and I could feel my breathing returning.
“You want me to have dinner with you?” my heart was thudding in my chest. What made Tank think, that after everything he had just told me about himself, that I would want to have dinner with him?
“Yes. I want to see you again,” he said, and another one of Tank's rare smiles had begun to appear on his face. I stared at him, into his hazel eyes, at the thick beard that had grown on his jaw, at his scruffy long hair, at his wide muscular shoulders…
“Yes. I’ll have dinner with you tomorrow,” I said, and Tank stepped away from me.
“Good,” he said and returned to his bed and sat down again. I could feel my knees weakening like he had released an imaginary hand from around my throat.
“Meet me at Corleone's at seven tomorrow night. I’ll be waiting there for you,” he said, and I realized that I had run out of words. So, I ran out of his room, like I was trying to get away from him.
Outside in the corridor, I tried to catch my breath. I hadn’t even responded to him, I was so afraid of what I had agreed to do. But I couldn’t help myself, I felt like he was an addiction growing on me.
CHAPTER 9
Tank
I didn’t expect Noelle to turn up. I had been sitting at the table for two that I had booked earlier that day, and by now, I was on my third beer. When Noelle walked in, a little after seven thirty, I noticed how heads in the restaurant turned to look at her.
She was speaking to the hostess near the door, who then started leading her towards me, and I stood up from my table with a jerk.
I hadn’t seen her in anything but her hospital scrubs yet, and now that I saw her, in a red silk cocktail dress, I felt like I was running out of breath.
Like a nervous, giddy teenager, I walked around and held a chair out for her. Noelle smiled at me like this was all completely normal for her, and she sat down. The dress clung to her curves, its neck dipped deep down so that her cleavage was revealed…making promises of how juicy her breasts were. She had her hair loose, and it delicately grazed her hips as she flipped it over one shoulder. She had parted her bangs, and it lay across her forehead now on the right.
Noelle was staring back at me as I looked at her. She was this gorgeous, perfect princess out of a fairytale or something, and I felt like the ogre who had no chance with her.
Even though I knew this restaurant was relatively fancy and way different from the usual joints we hung out at; I was still in my usual leather jacket and dark jeans. My hair was hung down on my shoulders, but it was brushed, which was probably the only extra mile I had gone for tonight.
