Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Tank fired two shots,grunting in dissatisfaction as they embedded in the body of the SUV instead of the wheels he’d been aiming for. He memorized the license plate as the vehicle sped away, careening toward the exit of the subdivision.
Every muscle was on edge, clenched in frustration and poised for action. But the threat was gone, at least temporarily. Kaylie and Lia were inside, along with the man he’d taken out. He snarled at the sheer audacity of this group to come into his home. The fact that they even knew Kaylie and Lia were here was a problem he’d have to deal with later. The number of people who knew that information was a decidedly short list. Unless Moreno was tracking them some other way.
Either way, they would pay for making Kaylie and Lia feel unsafe.
Although, he’d never forget the expression on her face when he’d taken out the threat.
Neutralized.
Eliminated.
Defused.
So many tactical words to avoid saying the fact of the matter. He’d killed the man. And it was entirely possible that perfect, innocent Cecelia had been watching. No doubt Kaylie saw him for what he really was now. A monster, not so different from the men who’d invaded his house and attacked them. The horror and fear had been so evident on their faces. Perhaps he made them feel just as unsafe.
He’d been foolish to think she’d overlook the fact that he was a well-trained murder machine. Tank gritted his teeth and marched back inside, pulling his phone to his ear as he did.
His first call was to Hollywood Dave. He explained what had happened and gave Dave the license plate for a BOLO.
“What else do you need, Tank?”
Tank shook his head and exhaled slowly, like releasing a pressure valve on the tension in his body. “You know the Moreno family?”
“From Jersey? What do they want here?”
“They’re after Kaylie and Cecelia.”
Dave let out a low whistle. “Never going to happen.”
Tank huffed. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”
“I got you, man. I’ll be in touch, man. Praying for you.”
Tank hung up with him and immediately dialed the next number. He stood on the porch, one step from the door.
“Miranda, I’m bringing two in for protective custody. Mom and daughter.” Miranda promised to get everything moving at BTS. Tank reached for the door and steeled himself to go inside and face the woman he’d come to care for more than he ever thought possible. He prepared himself for that look in her eyes he’d always seen from others.
“Kaylie? They’re gone. You can come out now.”
He found them in the kitchen, Lia clinging to the sweater that hung near Kaylie’s knees.
Kaylie wrapped a comforting arm around her daughter. Comforting her? Or was she protecting Lia from him? “Are you okay?” she asked softly.
“I’m fine,” he answered, knowing it sounded gruff. He couldn’t bring himself to spend too much time looking at them, too afraid of the apprehension or fear he’d see there.
“We’re moving you to Black Tower,” he announced. “It’s safer. Get your things and we’ll leave in five minutes.”
“But Anthony, your house—”
“Five minutes,” he reiterated. This wasn’t up for debate. He’d do whatever it took to protect them, and right now that meant getting both of them behind the secure walls of BTS headquarters.
Thankfully, Kaylie didn’t argue any further. She told Lia to stay while she got her things from the living room. Tank stayed in the entrance of the hallway, shielding the view of the body crumpled against the wall.
Less than five minutes later, Tank was loading their meager possessions into the back of his Range Rover. He slammed the door shut as Kaylie came through the door from the house.
“Wait, Lia needs a—”
Knowing what she was going to say, Tank simply opened the rear passenger door to reveal the brand new car seat he’d installed the night before. Thank heavens for twenty-four-hour delivery services. It was no small miracle he’d managed to get the seat installed, though. Squeezing his own frame into the back seat to access the anchor points had been claustrophobic, but he was grateful he hadn’t put off the task. Lia would be safe in his car, just like she was in his arms.
The moment he opened the door, there was a soft cry of surprise from Kaylie, and he felt her arms come around his waist. He froze at the unexpected contact. “Thank you,” she said softly. She squeezed a little tighter for a moment before letting him go.
The contact gave him a glimmer of hope that she might not have completely written him off yet. Tank ignored the strong urge to pull her into his arms for the rest of the afternoon. There was too much to be done for that.
Lia came out a few steps after her mother. She was unusually quiet, and her face lacked its usual carefree smile. He hated the fact that the little girl had been through so much. It wasn’t right that so much evil had already touched her short life. Tank kept his eyes on Lia as Kaylie helped her into the SUV, but she didn’t meet his eyes once.
Tank clenched his jaw and pushed away the desire to comfort the little girl. He knew he wasn’t the one who chased away bad dreams. Tank had always been the monster hiding in the shadows. He’d only make things worse by getting close and pretending he could act soft and reassuring. That was not in his skillset.
The drive to BTS headquarters was tense, and Tank never let his guard down. The last thing he wanted was to have another run in with the people who’d invaded his house. He breathed a sigh of relief as they rolled through the reinforced gates of Black Tower Security and let them close behind him.
This place meant safety. BTS was also the closest thing to a real family Tank had known. The Olson family? Cruel and political, that family was all about self-preservation and power. But Black Tower was about strength in unity, self-sacrifice, loyalty, and trust. And while the team at Black Tower hadn’t planned on adding two people to the resident roster, they wouldn’t hesitate to bring Kaylie and Cecelia into the fold.
They’d care about Kaylie and Cecelia simply because Tank did. And they’d protect them because they needed protecting.
Once they were safely inside, Tank led Kaylie and Lia to the wing of the building that was permanently set up as living quarters for any of their clients who needed to stay. Miranda was waiting for them in the shared living room area, which just as often served as a place for much-needed decompression after a mission or Black Tower staff movie nights. The room held four large couches and a scattering of recliners, plus a television that filled one wall. There was a full kitchen in the back corner, which Tank knew Hannah Stone had made use of on more than one occasion while she stayed here after the assassination. The girl could cook, he’d give her that.
The edge of the space was lined with rooms, numbered one through five.
“Hello,” Miranda greeted them softly. “I’m Miranda. You must be Kaylie.” She shook Kaylie’s hand before turning to Cecelia. “Hey, sweet girl. Remember me? I’m Tank’s friend.”
Lia nodded shyly. Kaylie flashed him a questioning look.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Miranda babysat for a bit while you had the flu so I could go get Lia’s blanket from your place.”
Kaylie narrowed her eyes at him, but he quickly looked away. No doubt she would have thoughts to share later about that particular revelation.
“Tank?” It was the first word Tank had heard Cecelia say since the attack at the house.
“Mr. Anthony,” Kaylie clarified for her daughter.
Miranda flashed a look at him that he knew meant they would be discussing that later. No one called him anything other than Tank.
“Oh yes,” Miranda agreed. “Anthony.”
“Hi,” came Cecelia’s quiet, but polite, response.
“Ta–Anthony let me know you’d be coming, so I’ve got your room all ready for you. You’ll be staying in Room #2, since it is our biggest room, with a queen-size bed for you to share. I hope that’s all right. We don’t have any with two beds.”
“We always share anyway,” Kaylie said absently.
Miranda smiled knowingly. “Well, here. Let me show you. I’m sure the two of you are eager to get settled in.”
It couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes ago that he’d told Miranda they were coming, but she’d worked her magic already. Room #2 was made up with a purple bedspread. Tank was certain the last time he’d been in here it was dark blue. There were little girl clothes hanging in the closet, and a table with blank paper and some crayons and stickers was set up in the corner.
“Your bathroom is right through here.” Tank spotted bubble bath and a handful of mermaid toys through the open door.
“This is too much,” Kaylie immediately protested, but Miranda dismissed her objections.
“Please, it was my pleasure. This was way more fun than making sure these guys have their groceries delivered when they’re on a stakeout.”
Miranda did far more than that for the team. As their logistics expert, she handled travel, lodging, and supplies for missions all over the country. Once, after an especially impressive delivery of emergency insulin for a client to their location in the desert of New Mexico, he’d asked her how she pulled it off. Miranda had just flashed him a smile and claimed that a magician never reveals her secrets.
And she must be a magician, because Kaylie and Cecelia had already relaxed under her ministrations. He hated to leave, but his first priority was getting to the bottom of the attack and finding a way to get Paul Moreno out of the picture.
Then there was the meeting with Senator Collins. He still had to prepare for that so they could figure out how to derail the senator’s plans for the defense appropriations bill.
Tank got Kaylie’s attention while Miranda showed Cecelia the craft supplies she’d gotten. “I need to go. I’ll be back soon, okay?”
He could see the apprehension on her face. “You’ll be safe here,” he added, trying to reassure her.
Kaylie nodded. “We’ll be fine.”
With one last look over his shoulder at Kaylie, Cecelia, and Miranda, Tank walked out of the small apartment. They were safe. As much as he wanted to stay with them and erase every wrinkle of worry and fear from Kaylie’s face, he couldn’t right now. He was going to find Paul Moreno and do whatever it took to get him out of their lives—permanently.
Leaving Kaylie and Cecelia in Miranda’s capable hands, Tank’s first stop was at Joey’s office. He avoided eye contact with the few people he saw in the hallways, and they all wisely chose to stay out of his way.
“Tank! Hey, hold up.”
Tank’s fist tightened in irritation. He didn’t have time for this. “I’m busy, Marshall.” He kept walking, ignoring Marshall’s request and heading straight for Joey’s office.
“I know you are, which is why I need you to stop and talk to me.” Marshall was nothing if not persistent.
“What is it?” Tank didn’t bother trying to soften his words. Marshall could handle it, and he knew Tank as well as anyone on the team. He also didn’t stop walking.
“Tomorrow’s meeting with Collins.”
Tank bit back a groan. “I know. I haven’t–”
“It’s cool, man. Jackson told me about the family you brought in. The woman and her daughter? It’s your housekeeper, right?”
Tank nodded, unsure how to respond. How had Jackson even known? The answer came to him almost as quickly as the question. Miranda had mentioned it to Jackson. It was like working at a dang hair salon for the way gossip and info spread through this place.
“Let me help you out. I’ll take point on the meeting with Collins. I can call in Ryder and Will. That’ll free you up to handle whatever is going on with your girls, right?”
Tank stuttered at the casual reference to Kaylie and Cecelia as his girls, but he had to admit he didn’t hate it. He slowed to a stop as they came to an alcove just outside the door to Joey’s office.
A hint of the tension in his shoulders eased. “That would be amazing. Are you sure?”
Marshall gave him an easy smile. He and his brother both had a charming, charismatic way about them. Although Jackson usually used his powers to score a date, whereas Marshall was far more selective. “Of course. You’d do the same for me.”
Tank nodded his agreement at the statement. He’d lay down life and limb for anyone on this team without question. “I owe you one.”
That responsibility off his plate for now, he stepped into Joey’s office as Marshall headed back the way they’d come from. Joey sat in the central chair like the captain of a starship. The large, dim room was lit with a dozen computer screens.
“Paul Moreno,” he said. No time for small talk, and no need for niceties here. “Where is he right now?”
“What happened?” Joey turned in her chair. Her long blond curls were pulled back behind some sort of headband or scarf. Her expression was serious and full of concern.
“That prick came after Kaylie. Or sent his dogs anyway.” Tank was seething once again at the thought of the attack.
“Okay, calm down. They’re okay, right?”
“They were inside my house.” He slammed a fist onto the desk, immediately grateful that whoever had picked out the furniture for BTS had splurged for quality that wouldn’t crumble under his angry outburst. “I need you to find him, because I’m going to end this for her, once and for all.”
Joey grinned. It was a little creepy how much she lit up when anyone talked about taking out criminals. Or rich guys. And especially when it was both at the same time. “Heck yes. I’m all for taking down the bad guys. I’m on it, Tank.”