21. Tank
TANK
I wake to morning light filtering through Enya's curtains and the quiet realization that everything's changed. I'm in her bed, in hers and Warren's lives. And I’m here to stay.
The thought should terrify me more than it does, should send me running back to the clubhouse, but it doesn’t.
Because Enya's pressed against my side, breathing soft and even.
Because down the hall is a five-year-old kid who asked me to read him a bedtime story.
Because of this. All of this. It feels right in a way nothing else ever has.
I shift carefully, trying not to wake her. I need to check the flat, to make sure everything's locked. Old habits, because now I'm not just protecting myself. I'm protecting them.
I pull on jeans and a shirt, move quietly through the flat. Checking the locks, the windows, and the door. All secure.
From the sitting room, I hear small sounds, soft crashes and quiet dinosaur roars. I smile. Warren’s awake.
I find him on the floor surrounded by his toys, staging some elaborate battle between a T-Rex and a Triceratops. He looks up when I enter and smiles.
“Morning,” he says softly.
"Morning, mate." I settle on the floor near him, not too close. I’m giving him space to decide if he wants me there.
He pushes a smaller dinosaur toward me. "You can be the Pteranodon."
"The what now?” This kid is fucking with me. He must be. I’ve never heard of that. Ever.
"Pteranodon. It's a flying one. See the wings?"
I nod, acting as though I know exactly what he’s talking about. ”Right. Got it."
I take the toy, hold it carefully, and let Warren direct the play.
He's chattering away, explaining the rules, and who’s fighting who. Why the herbivores are teaming up against the carnivores. I just listen. He’s so animated about it that it’s fun to just play along. It’s easy, natural, like I've been doing this for years instead of less than twenty-four hours.
But underneath the ease, there's fear. What if I fuck this up? What if I'm not good enough? Not stable enough? What if Warren grows up and realizes the man who's been in his life killed someone?
What if Enya realizes the same thing and decides I'm too dangerous to have around her son?
The thoughts spiral, dark and insistent.
Then Warren hands me another dinosaur. "This one's the baby. You have to protect it from the T-Rex."
His words pull me from my spiraling thoughts. ”I can do that."
"Good. Because the T-Rex is really scary."
I look at this kid. Five years old and already he knows what it means to need protection. He already understands fear and he's trusting me to keep him safe.
The weight of it hits hard.
"Devin?" Warren's looking at me with concern. "You okay?"
"Yeah, mate. Just thinking."
"About what?"
"About how lucky I am to be here."
He smiles, a big, gap-toothed smile that’s genuine. "I'm glad you're here too."
Something in my chest cracks open, makes room for this kid, for this life, for all of it.
"Come on," he says. "The baby dinosaur needs rescuing."
So I rescue the baby dinosaur, fight off the T-Rex, and follow Warren's instructions with the kind of focus I usually reserve for club business.
And it's the best thing I've done in years.
Enya appears in the doorway about twenty minutes later. Her hair’s messy, eyes sleepy, and she’s wearing my shirt from last night. I had a bag of clean clothes with me, just in case.
She stops and just watches us for a moment, her face soft and filled with love and happiness.
"Morning," I say.
"Morning." She moves into the room, pressing a kiss to the top of Warren's head. "You let Devin sleep?"
"He woke up on his own. We're playing dinosaurs."
"I can see that." She looks at me. "You didn't have to get up."
"Wanted to."
She studies my face, no doubt looking for lies or resentment. But she won't find any.
"Warren, love, can you bring your dinosaurs into the sitting room. I’ll be getting breakfast ready soon. I just need to talk to Devin."
"Okay." He gathers his dinosaurs and runs off down the hall.
Once he's gone, Enya sits beside me on the floor, close enough that our shoulders touch.
"You're good with him," she says quietly.
"He makes it easy."
“Still, you didn't have to. This is a lot and happening really fast."
"I know."
"And you're still here."
"I'm still here."
She's quiet for a moment. "I slept well last night. I slept the whole night without waking up scared."
"Good."
"Because of you."
"Because you're safe now."
"Because you're here." She takes my hand. Threads our fingers together. "I meant what I said last night. About wanting a future with you."
My throat tightens. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. And I know it's fast. I know we're still figuring things out. But I want you to know, I'm not going anywhere either."
I turn to face her properly and cup her face with my free hand. "I'm not good at this. At relationships, family, or anything normal.”
"Neither am I. So we figure it out together."
"I killed a man, Enya. For you. And I don't regret it. But that’s who I am. That's what I'm capable of."
"I know and I'm grateful. Not for the violence, but for the protection. For the choice you made to keep me safe." She leans into my touch. "You're not a monster, Devin. You're someone who protects the people you care about. There's a difference."
I want to believe her. Want to trust that she sees me clearly and still chooses this.
"What if Warren finds out? When he's older? What if he—"
"Then we tell him the truth. Age-appropriate truth. That you protected us from someone dangerous. That you kept us safe." She holds my gaze. "And we make sure he grows up knowing the difference between violence for power and violence for protection."
I nod slowly. I can’t speak yet.
She kisses me, soft, gentle, and full of promise.
When she pulls back, she says, "I believe in you. In us. And that's enough for now."
"Yeah. Okay."
We sit there, just holding each other. Letting the moment settle.
Then there's a knock at the door, loud and sharp.
Enya tenses. I feel it immediately, her whole body going rigid.
"It's alright," I say quietly. "I'll check."
I move to the door and look through the peephole. An older woman, with gray hair, holding a bag.
Mary.
I open the door. "Morning."
She looks me up and down, assessing me. "Morning yourself. You're still here then."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Mary. I told you that." She pushes past me into the flat. Not rude. Just direct. "Where's my daughter?"
"Sitting room."
Enya appears. "Mam? I thought you were staying with Erin for a few more days?"
"Wanted to check on you, Warren, and him." Mary nods toward me.
"We're fine. All of us."
"Hmm." Mary sets the bag on the kitchen counter. "Brought some groceries, for Warren. A growing boy needs feeding properly."
"Mam, you didn't have to—"
"I know I didn't have to. I wanted to." She turns to me. “You, kitchen, now.”
Enya looks alarmed. I just nod. "Yes, ma'am."
"Mary."
"Yes, Mary."
I follow her into the small kitchen. She leans against the counter, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
"So," she says, "you're the one who's been looking after my daughter."
"Doing my best."
"Your best involve getting into fights? You're covered in bruises."
"Sometimes. When necessary."
"And is it necessary often?"
"No. Not anymore."
She studies me for a long moment. "My daughter's been through hell. Her and Warren both. They don't need more chaos in their lives."
"I know."
"Do you? Because from where I'm standing, you're a biker. Part of a club. That's not exactly stability."
"No. It's not. But it's loyalty. Protection. Family. And Enya and Warren are part of that now."
"Are they?"
"Yeah. They are."
Mary's quiet. Then: "You care about her."
"More than I know how to say."
"And Warren?"
"He's a good kid. Smart. Brave. Deserves someone who'll protect him and not hurt him."
"And you think you can be that person?"
"I'm going to try. Every day. For as long as they'll let me."
She watches me, looking for lies, for weakness, for reasons to throw me out.
Finally, she says, "If you hurt her or that boy, I'll make you regret it. I don't care how big you are or what patch you wear. I'll make you regret it."
"Understood."
"Good." She turns back to the groceries and starts unpacking. "You can stay for breakfast. Might as well see if you're useful in the kitchen."
I almost smile. "Yes, ma'am."
"Mary."
"Yes, Mary."
Breakfast is interesting.
Mary cooks. I help where she tells me to. Warren sits at the table chattering about dinosaurs. Enya watches all of us with something like wonder on her face.
It's domestic. Normal. Everything I never thought I'd have.
And it's fucking terrifying how much I want it.
Mary asks me questions throughout. Where I'm from. How long I've been with the club. What I do for a living. Basic things but weighted with meaning.
I answer honestly. I don't try to make myself sound better than I am. Just tell the truth.
By the time breakfast is done, Mary seems... not quite warm, but less hostile.
As she's leaving, she says to Enya, "He's a good one. Bit rough around the edges, but good."
Enya hugs her. "Thanks, Mam."
“Now that you’re good, Erin needs me. She’s been asking for months for me to stay with her. I have taken her up on the offer.”
I watch as Enya’s face falls. “Mam, you don’t need to leave—”
“My sweet girl, I know I don’t, but as I said, Erin needs me. She’s working full time and needs help with the kids. You’ve got Devin now, and I know he’ll take good care of you and Warren.”
I swallow hard, knowing that having Mary say that took a lot and it means fucking everything. It means that they trust me to take care of Warren. That they accept me, knowing what I’ve done.
“Mam…”
Mary shakes her head. “I’m not leaving you, sweet girl, I promise. I’m just giving you space to finally grow, and in doing so, I get to help your sister now. I am so proud of you and how strong you are.”
Enya’s quiet as she hugs her mam once again.
“So I expect you to come for Sunday dinner. Your sister is excited that this will mean she gets to see more of you, and I agree. It’ll be nice to finally have some family time.”
Enya swallows as she wipes away her tears. ”We will be there, and you’re right, it’ll be nice to be together again.”
Mary looks at me. "You're invited too. If you want."
"I'd like that. Thank you."
She nods. “I’m going to pack a bag. I need some more things at Erin’s.”
We watch as she moves to her room and then Enya turns to me. "She likes you."
"Yeah?"
“Yeah, she really does. She’s very protective of me and Warren and she’s given you her blessing to take care of us.”
"Good. Because I was terrified."
She laughs. "You? Terrified?"
"Your mam's fierce."
"She is. But she's fair, and if she says you're good, then you are."
I pull her close and kiss the top of her head. "Still feel like I'm going to fuck this up."
"You won't. And if you do, we'll figure it out. We’re both learning as we go.”
"Together."
“Always."
“Right, I’m off,” Mary says, giving Enya and I a bright smile. “I expect to see all three of you on Sunday. No excuses. Enya, my sweet girl, I’ll call you this evening.” She waves goodbye as she leaves, closing the door quietly behind her.
Warren runs past us, a dinosaur in hand. No doubt he’s off to wreak havoc in his room probably.
And I just stand here, holding Enya as we listen to Warren play, feeling more at home than I have anywhere.
* * *
Later, I step outside of the flat and down the stairs until I’m outside in the cold night, needing air and needing to think.
I pull out a cigarette. Stare at it. Then put it back in the pack without lighting it.
Can't smoke around Warren. The kid doesn't need to breathe that in. Doesn't need to see me doing something that'll kill me eventually.
Small change, but it matters. I lean against the wall. Just breathe. Process.
My life's changing. Fast. In ways I didn't expect and can't control.
I’ve got a woman I love. A kid who trusts me. A future that's suddenly real, instead of just existing day to day.
It's overwhelming.
I need to talk to Pyro. I need advice on balancing club life with family. Because I can't just disappear from the club. I can’t stop being a brother. But I also can't put Enya and Warren second.
I need to find the balance. I also need to make this flat safer, which means better locks, maybe a security system. Something that'll let Enya sleep without fear. And long term, maybe we move. Get a better place. Somewhere Warren has a garden, somewhere Enya doesn't have memories of Declan lurking.
This is happening. This is my life now.
And I want it. All of it.
The door opens behind me. Enya steps out and wraps a cardigan around herself against the cold.
"You alright?" she asks.
“Yeah, just thinking."
"About what?"
"About this, us, our future."
She moves beside me and leans against the wall. "And?"
"And I want it. All of it. You. Warren. Sunday dinners with your mam. Dinosaur facts at breakfast. The whole fucking thing."
She smiles. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Because I want it too."
We stand there in comfortable silence. She reaches for my hand and threads our fingers together.
"We're doing this then," she says. "Properly. Building something real."
"Yeah. We are."
"It's going to be messy sometimes. I'm still healing. Warren still has nightmares. We're still figuring out how to be... normal."
"I know. And I'm still figuring out how to be the kind of man you need. The kind of man Warren needs."
"You already are."
I look at her, really look. At the strength in her eyes. The hope. The trust.
"I love you," I say.
Her breath catches. "I love you too." She squeezes my hand. "So much it scares me sometimes."
"Me too."
This is what I want. This is mine now. Not to own. Not to control. But to protect. To cherish. To build with.
"Come on," she says eventually. "Warren wants to show you his dinosaur book. Apparently there's important information about Stegosaurus plates you need to know."
I smile. "Can't miss that."
We head back inside. Together.
And for the first time in my life, I'm not just surviving.
I'm living.
Really living.
And it's fucking beautiful.