Chapter 27 – TANK
TANK
She's the most perfect thing I've ever seen.
Ellie walks across the quad like she owns it, pink streaks catching the afternoon sun, and my chest does that stupid clenching thing it's been doing since she held my hand for the first time, smiling at me like I wasn't a monster.
I'm trying to blend in. Failing spectacularly.
The weekend is over, which means she's back to her normal routine and I'm back to mine.
Stalking.
If you want to be generous, guarding.
The college kids give me a wide berth, their eyes skating over my frame before darting away like they've seen something they shouldn't. I'm used to it. Can't blame them. I obviously don't fucking belong here.
Not under normal circumstances.
I shift my weight, adjusting the bandana that's starting to make my face sweat. The gas mask would be worse, but at least people would assume I'm making some kind of statement instead of just... existing.
Kade volunteered me for first shift watching her. Said it was because I needed to "get my head out of my ass" about the Ellie situation. More likely, he's punishing me for daring to suggest his methods might be too harsh.
Or maybe he knows I've been doing this anyway. Following her between classes, keeping to the shadows, making sure she's safe even when she doesn't know I'm there.
She stops to sit on a bench near the library, pulling out her phone. I'm too far away to see what she's looking at, but I know her patterns. She'll check it exactly five times before putting it away. Count to five between each check. Everything in fives because that's her safe number.
I taught her to sign numbers when we were kids, and she latched onto five like it was a lifeline.
One, two, three, four, five.
Five of us.
My own fingers tap against my thigh, hidden in the pocket of my jeans. Mimicking her rhythm like it's contagious. Religious. Like if I count the same numbers, we're still connected somehow.
A group of frat boys passes, their laughter too loud, and one of them calls out to her. "Hey, Ellie! You coming to the party tonight?"
She looks up, and even from here I can see her smile. The fake one. "Can't. Family stuff."
"Your loss. Josh was asking about you."
Josh Henderson. The trust fund asshole who's weaseled his way into her friend group. The one whose name is written on a list in my head of people who need to disappear.
But Kade made me promise to wait. Said we can't leave a trail of dead frat boys leading back to us until after the senator's dealt with.
Practical.
Still doesn't stop me from wanting to snap Josh's neck every time I hear his name. I might not deserve to exist in the same world as her, but neither does he.
Eleanor waves them off and goes back to her phone. I should move. Find a different vantage point before she notices me lurking like some kind of—
Her head snaps up.
Fuck.
Those green eyes lock onto mine across the quad, and I see the exact moment recognition hits. Her expression shifts from confusion to surprise to something I don't even fucking know.
She rises slowly to her feet, staring at me, and I know I should leave. Should disappear back into the shadows where I belong.
But my feet won't move.
She walks toward me with purpose, and every instinct I have screams to run. But I'm grounded to the spot, watching her approach. A giant wolf frozen in the presence of a doe.
"Tank?" she says softly. Apprehensively. She stops a few feet away, close enough that I can smell her perfume. It smells like cotton candy, pink and sweet and soft, just like her. "What are you doing here?"
I don't sign. Can't fucking sign.
My hands feel like lead weights at my sides.
"If you're going to stalk me," she continues, and there's the slightest quirk of amusement on her lips now despite the sadness there, "you might as well do it out in the open."
Not stalking, I finally manage to sign. Watching.
"There's a difference?" She tilts her head.
I give a stiff nod. Yes.
She crosses her arms, one hip popped out in that tight plaid skirt that barely covers enough to be legal, let alone follow whatever dress code this university has in place, studying me with those X-ray eyes.
As a kid, I used to be terrified she really could see through my mask, but she never ran away screaming, so that theory went out the window.
"Kade sent you."
I nod again. Easier than explaining that I would've been here anyway. That I've been here every day since she started, keeping watch from a distance because the thought of her being unprotected makes my skin crawl.
"Right." She glances around the quad, and I see her doing the math. See her realize what I already know. "You can't be seen with me. Not here."
I sigh and nod again.
The gears are turning behind those summer green eyes. "Wait here," she says suddenly, already turning away. "Don't move."
She disappears into the student union building before I can protest. I stand there like an idiot, drawing more stares from passing students. A girl with purple hair whispers something to her friend, and they both giggle nervously while looking at me.
I'm used to it. The stares. The whispers. The way people react to someone who looks like me. But it still stings. Still makes me want to retreat to the garage and lose myself in engines and metal.
Five minutes pass. Then ten. I'm starting to consider if she's ever coming back when she emerges, two ice cream cones balanced in her hands.
What the fuck?
She gives me a pointed look over her shoulder like she wants me to follow and disappears into the wooded path that leads away from campus.
And I follow her. Of course I fucking do. I've been following her for four years. What's a few more minutes?
She leads me down a path that winds through trees toward the river. The sounds of students fade behind us, replaced by birds singing and leaves rustling. It's quieter here. Private.
Dangerous, because this is the polar fucking opposite of staying away from her.
We reach a small clearing by the water, and she sits on a fallen log like she's done this before. I'm sure she has. This feels like the kind of spot you find when you need to escape from the entire world.
"Sit," she says, patting the space beside her.
I hesitate. The log looks plenty sturdy enough for her slight weight, but I'm not exactly built for delicate seating arrangements. Still, I lower myself down carefully, leaving space between us so I don't accidentally touch her.
She holds out one of the cones. They're both pink. "Strawberry. It's still your favorite, right?"
My favorite because it's always been hers.
Because it's pink and sweet and whenever I taste it, I think of her.
The gesture is a gut punch. She remembered. After four years of silence, she remembered something as small and trivial as that.
I take it, my hand dwarfing the cone. The ice cream's already starting to melt in the heat, pink dripping down onto my fingers.
"Remember when we used to split an ice cream?" She's not looking at me, just staring out at the water. "We'd get one cone and pass it back and forth because none of us could afford our own."
I remember. Remember trying not to stare at her mouth. Remember thinking that sharing something that touched her lips was the closest I'd ever get to kissing her, even if I was too afraid someone would see me to risk it most of the time. Not when the others were around.
Some things never change.
Yeah, I sign with my free hand. Remember.
"I miss that," she says softly. "Miss when things were simple."
The ice cream is melting fast, and I'm even more aware of the mask than usual. Can't exactly lick a cone through surgical fabric.
She must realize it too, because she glances at me, then quickly away. "Sorry. I didn't think about..."
It's fine, I sign. Don't give a shit about the ice cream, but I can't bring myself to pass up a chance to be near her for a while, even if it would be the smart thing to do. The safe thing.
"I know the drill," she says, turning her back to me. "I won't look."
The words transport me back to a hundred meals we've shared. A thousand moments where she gave me privacy to eat, to exist, to be something other than the freak show everyone else sees.
And she never broke that promise. Not once. Even when curiosity must have been eating her alive, she respected my boundaries in a way no one else ever has besides Kade.
My hands hesitate as I pull the mask down. The air hits the exposed ruin of my face and I have to fight the urge to yank it back up. To hide again. To protect her from seeing what's underneath.
But true to her word, she's focused completely on her own ice cream, licking at the strawberry with small, delicate strokes that make my cock twitch in my jeans.
Fuck.
I bring the cone to my mouth and take a bite. The strawberry explodes across my tongue, sweet and cold, and for a moment I feel thirteen again, sharing ice cream with the only girl who ever made me feel human.
I watch her while I eat. Can't help it. The way the sunlight catches her hair. The curve of her neck where that collar sits like it belongs. The concentration on her face as she tries to keep the ice cream from dripping.
Her tongue darts out to catch a drop running down the side of the cone, and I have to adjust myself because apparently I'm a sick fuck who gets hard watching her eat ice cream.
I wish I were tasting her instead. But she would never want that. Never want me.
Not like that.
I finish the ice cream as fast as possible, leaving half of it and yanking the mask back into place before she can turn around. The sweetness lingers on my tongue, mixed with the bitter fucking taste of reality.
"Can I…?"
I nod, then realize she can't see. I war with myself for a few seconds before touching her arm to tell her it's fine. Just that one touch sends a jolt of electricity through my fingers. The warmth and smoothness of her skin.
Softness I don't deserve, can never have, no matter what devil's bargain Kade and the others have arranged.