Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Ryder’scrazy plan to send Dolores alone with the artwork to the Smithsonian worked like a charm. One team in the motorcade hit some trouble, but since they weren’t really protecting anything, the BTS team was able to back off until they had the upper hand. The attempted thieves ended up empty-handed and yesterday’s mission was a success. This early-morning meeting was more celebration than debrief, and Tank’s mind was everywhere else but here.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that Kaylie was in danger. And the fact that she still hadn’t told him anything about her history with the Moreno family had him on edge. He wanted to be someone she trusted, but so far, she wasn’t giving an inch.
He knew that he could be patient. He’d seen far too many men make mistakes because they couldn’t wait. But he didn’t know how to convince her to let him in without letting her know he already knew. Which would mean admitting that he’d been looking into her background. Which would mean admitting that he felt far more than casual feelings for the single mother who had wormed her way into his life.
Even though he knew it could never work.
She’d never want someone like him. Why would she run from the Moreno family just to fall into the arms of someone just as brutal and with just as dark a past?
No, she deserved someone normal. Someone who would come home every night from his desk job to her dinner on the table and Lia chattering happily at his feet until he swung her around to her giggles of delight.
Great. Now Tank was horribly jealous of a wimpy fictional man. That boded super well for his overall sanity.
His phone buzzed repeatedly in his pocket. A call? Kaylie’s name flashed on the screen, and he pulled it to his ear immediately, beelining toward the door so he could escape the noise of the celebration.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Olson, I… I didn’t know who else to call.” Her voice was breathy and panicked.
Tank’s pulse jumped. “What is it?”
“I got a call–” she cut herself off. “Nevermind. This was a mistake. I–I have to go.”
“Where are you?” He knew his words sounded harsh, and he hated that he didn’t know how to calm her down. He wasn’t good at this.
Thankfully, she answered the question. “We’re on the bus. We had to leave… I–”
“Go to my house. It’s going to be all right, fiamella. I’ll meet you there.” The Italian endearment slipped out, but he realized it was accurate. She was his little flame. Kaylie was light and warmth and full of a strength that she probably didn’t even recognize. And he couldn’t seem to care if he was going to get burned.
“I shouldn’t have called—”
“You absolutely should have. I’ll protect you and Lia, I swear it. Please, go to my house.”
She didn’t say anything, and Tank felt his anxiety creep higher. He couldn’t help her if she wouldn’t trust him. He was desperate to know what was going on and why she’d called him. Was someone from the Moreno family close?
After an eternity of silence, Kaylie’s small, hesitant voice came through the phone. “Okay,” she agreed.
Tank blew out a relieved breath. “I’ll be there soon. Go inside and lock the doors.”
He was already halfway out the building by the time he hung up the phone. Eventually, someone would realize he’d left, but he’d deal with that later. There was nothing more important than making sure Kaylie was safe.
Tank drove over the speed limit the entire way home, saying a prayer that the police were occupied elsewhere. A flood of emotion hit him when he stormed through the garage door and found Kaylie and Lia curled up on the couch in the family room. Kaylie had turned on a cartoon, and Lia was nestled under a blanket, clutching Elphie.
His fingers tensed by his side. Now that he was here and could see with his own eyes that they were safe—at least for the time being—he didn’t know what to do. He wanted to sweep them both into his arms, but he couldn’t do that.
Kaylie kissed Lia on the head and smoothed her hair before standing and motioning for him to join her in the kitchen. She padded softly, her socks nearly silent on the smooth hardwood. He followed wordlessly, trailing behind her like a well-trained labrador.
In the kitchen, Kaylie sat on the edge of the barstool. Tank followed his instincts and stepped closer to her. Every cell within him nearly burst with satisfaction when she melted into his frame, laying her head on his chest. His arms circled her, holding her close.
“I’ve got you, fiamella,” he whispered. His voice lodged in his throat, the words almost nonexistent.
A shudder ran through Kaylie, and her hand tightened on his shirt.
“I can’t… Drew—”
Her words cracked with a choked sob and then she quieted again. Tank let his hands run over her shoulders and back as he tried to comfort her. He had no idea who Drew was, but whoever it was had upset Kaylie somehow. The thought of another man being so important to her made him jealous, but he pushed it away. She was here with him right now and that meant something.
After a few minutes, Kaylie sniffed and pulled out of the embrace. The wetness on her cheeks and the dark spot on his shirt betrayed her mostly silent tears.
He ducked to meet her gaze. “What can I do?”
“I don’t even know why I’m here, Anthony.”
A zing of pleasure licked through his body at the sound of his name on her lips. Too often, it was Mr. Olson. A name that only brought back memories of a father he’d rather forget. He’d been Tank since he was a kid, with few exceptions.
Tank trailed his fingers over her cheek. “Let me take a guess and then you can fill in the gaps.” Her gaze grew stormy and a wrinkle formed just above her brow. He took a deep breath and sent up a quick prayer that she wouldn’t be angry. “You have ties to the Moreno family. You’ve been running from them for years and something happened.”
Kaylie curled into herself, a tiny ball with her legs on the barstool as he spoke. “How do–”
“Kaylie…” Tank lifted his arm to rub the back of his neck. Her eyes followed the movement and her mouth dropped open slightly. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me… But the company I work for can find out pretty much anything about anyone. I just want to help,” he reassured her. “Please let me help?”
Kaylie’s expression looked pained, and her eyes flicked to the door as though she were contemplating an escape. Tank’s heart sank. She didn’t want his help after all.
“This is my mess,” she insisted, her chin dropping.
“No, fiamella.” He tucked his finger under her jaw and lifted her gaze to his. “It doesn’t have to be. I can help you. You just have to trust me.”
Tank could see the moment she made her decision, a firmness appearing in her expression. She inhaled deeply. “Okay. There’s a lot more to the story, though.”
“Would anyone look for you here?” His first order of business was making sure they were safe for the night. He’d commandeer a Black Tower safehouse in the next fifteen minutes without permission if he needed to. He could ask forgiveness later.
Kaylie shook her head. “I–I don’t think so. Why would they?”
Right. Because he was just a housekeeping client. Just another reminder that he was far more invested than he should be. He glanced at the clock. “Let’s get some food ordered and then you can tell me everything.”
She nodded her agreement.
Tank ordered pizza, figuring that was the safest bet for Lia. Even though he would have loved to order something special for Kaylie. He couldn’t help wanting to spoil her. He had the means to do so, and he could tell her life hadn’t been easy up to now. He found himself wanting to do whatever it took to coax out one of those smiles she seemed to reserve specifically for Lia.
They waited to talk, both silently acknowledging that they didn’t want to talk about whatever the situation was while Lia was still around.
The doorbell rang and Tank headed toward the front door, his finger on his gun as he peered through the window beside it. He relaxed slightly once he recognized the delivery guy–the same teenager who delivered to him almost weekly. It used to be even more before Kaylie started cooking for him.
Taylor didn’t appear nervous, and Tank saw no sign of anyone else. He opened the door.
“Hey, man. Hungry tonight?”
Tank just grunted. Maybe he’d gone a little overboard. But he had no real idea how much a four-year-old girl ate. And Kaylie needed to eat more. She was still perfect, obviously. But the dark circles under her eyes and the obvious bagginess of her clothes told him that Kaylie had lost weight, and he didn’t like the idea that she’d been skipping meals and working too hard.
He signed the receipt and gave Taylor a generous tip before shutting the door.
“Pizza’s here,” he called through the house.
Lia’s squeal of excitement came in response and a low chuckle escaped.
After dinner and a rousing game of hide and seek, Kaylie explained to Cecelia that they would be sleeping here tonight and that it was time for bed.
“Can you tuck me in, Mr. Anthony? Please?”
Tank’s eyes immediately flew to Kaylie’s. He didn’t know how to answer that. Sure, he’d put the girl to bed the night her mom was sick, but that had been the only option. This was different.
“Oh,” Kaylie said. “I guess if he doesn’t mind—”
“I don’t mind,” he said in a low, firm voice.
Kaylie helped Lia into her pajamas and kissed her forehead as Tank stood awkwardly off to the side.
“Read me a story, Mr. Anthony!”
Tank looked around nervously. “I don’t really have any books at my house, princess.”
Her lip poked out in a pout, so he quickly added, “Can I tell you a story instead?”
Lia considered it for a moment before nodding seriously. She scooted over on the couch and Tank sat on the edge, the cushion compressing under his weight and rolling the little girl toward him. He shifted her slightly until she rested comfortably against him.
Then he stumbled through the story of “Jack and the Beanstalk” as best he could. Lia shrieked with joy as he lowered his voice to do the impression of the giant. Throughout the story, his eyes jumped to Kaylie. She was leaning against the doorway, watching with an unreadable expression on her face.
When he finished, he tucked the blanket around Lia. Following his instincts more than anything else, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, like her mother had done. “Good night, princessa. Sweet dreams.”
Lia snuggled into the pillow and murmured something unintelligible back. He didn’t need to know what she said, but it made him feel ten feet tall. This perfect little girl trusted him. And so did her mother.
Now, he was going to learn exactly what threat he was dealing with. Even if he couldn’t be the man who tucked Lia in every night, he’d be the one to make sure they had a chance to find that man. Because having them here tonight proved that he would do whatever it took to keep them safe. They deserved that much.
In fact, he was strikingly aware that they deserved so much more. He just wished he could be the one to give it to them.