Tank #2
She crossed the diner as if she belonged there, like she wasn’t walking straight into trouble just by being near him. “Hey,” she said, sliding into the booth across from him.
“Hey,” he breathed. He tried to act smooth but sounded anything but.
She glanced at the untouched coffee. “Have you been here a while?”
“Not long,” he lied. Lillith’s lips twitched like she didn’t believe him, but she let it go.
“So,” she said, leaning her elbows on the table. “You ditch church, or are you just saving your prayers for later?”
Tank huffed out a quiet laugh. “Didn’t make it to church.”
“I figured.” She tilted her head, studying him. “You don’t seem like the praying type.”
“No?” he asked.
“No,” she said softly. “You seem like the type who handles things on his own.” Her words hit closer than he liked—too close.
“Something like that,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee just to have something to do. It was terrible, but he drank it anyway.
Lillith slid into the seat across from him and sighed.
He waited for her to push him for answers, but she didn’t.
Instead, she just sat there, watching him like she was trying to piece him together without asking for the full story.
That should’ve made him uneasy, and it did. Yet, it didn’t make him want to leave.
“What about you?” he asked, setting the cup down. “You always this reckless?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Do you usually meet strange guys in diners at night?” he asked.
She grinned. “You should know that I told my sister where I was going. So, if you get the urge to murder me and bury me along the highway, she’ll hunt you down.”
He couldn’t hide his smile. “Are you going to stay with your sister?” he asked.
Lillith nodded, her expression shifting to something lighter, something deeper. “Yeah. I am. Up until a few days ago, I didn’t even know that I had a sister. It will be nice to get to know her. She took me back to her house and showed me around.”
“How did it go?” he asked.
“She hasn’t kicked me out, yet,” she said with a small laugh. “So I’m calling that a win.” Tank studied her face. There was more behind the story. He saw relief and even hope in Lillith’s eyes when she talked about her sister.
“Sounds like more than a win,” he said.
“Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “It kind of is.” Something twisted in his chest again because she was building something real with her sister. And he was just passing through. A part of him wondered if he’d ever feel safe enough to settle down somewhere.
“You gonna stay?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Lillith met his gaze, steady and sure. “I think I want to—for now at least.” Of course, she did, because she had found her place, her people, and possibly a new life. He was envious of her for that.
Tank nodded, looking down at his coffee. “Good,” he said.
Lillith leaned forward slightly. “What about you?” Tank stilled. There it was, the question he’d been avoiding.
“I don’t stay in one place for too long,” he said simply.
Her brows pulled together. “Ever?”
“No,” he quickly said.
“Why?” she asked. Tank’s eyes lifted to hers. There was curiosity there, and maybe concern. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had looked at him with concern.
“Because staying gets people hurt,” he said, his voice low. Lillith didn’t look away as he expected her to.
“Or maybe,” she said just as quietly, “running gets people hurt.” The words hit like a punch, and Tank’s jaw tightened.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, sharper than he meant for it to sound.
Lillith leaned back slightly in the booth, but she didn’t retreat.
“Then tell me,” she said. God, she wasn’t going to make any of this easy.
Tank looked at her—really looked at the stubborn set of her chin and the fire in her eyes.
He noticed the way she sat there, like she wasn’t afraid of him or what came along with him.
And for the first time in a long time, he wanted to tell someone the truth.
He wanted to stop carrying it alone, but what he wanted didn’t mean shit—not in his world.
Tank exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “Can’t,” he said.
Lillith studied him for a long second, and then she nodded.
“Okay.” Just like that—no pushing him for answers or giving him her anger, just acceptance, and that made him feel even worse.
Because it made him wonder what it would be like if he stayed, and if he told her everything.
Tank cut the thoughts off hard because even thinking them was dangerous. It wasn’t happening—not now, not ever.
“You should head back,” he said, pushing his coffee aside and reaching for his wallet. “It’s late.”
Lillith’s gaze sharpened. “Are you kicking me out?”
“I’m keeping you safe,” he insisted. Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, and then closed again. Because maybe, just maybe, she saw the truth in it.
“Fine,” she said, sliding out of the booth. “But this isn’t over.”
Tank paused, wallet in hand. “No?”
She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“No.” And then she turned and walked out of the diner like she hadn’t just flipped his entire world on its axis.
The bell jingled behind her, and silence followed.
Tank sat there for a long moment, staring at the door, and then he dropped some cash on the table and stood.
“You’re gonna regret this,” he muttered again to himself. Maybe that was true. Hell, it probably was, but as he stepped outside and looked down the street where she’d disappeared, he didn’t leave. Not yet, at least.