Chapter 5 - Tank
"By the time he does that, we'll be ready for him."
I hand Amelia's phone back to her, careful to keep my angry expression cool despite the fury building inside me.
I've dealt with men like Derek Mitchell before.
Men who hide behind badges and use their authority to terrorize instead of protect.
They're the reason I left the force. The reason I stopped believing in the system.
"Beast, get on the phone with King," I say, my mind already mapping out our next steps. "Tell him what's happening and that we need at least two more guys out here by morning. Then call Steel. We need surveillance on all roads leading into Blackwater Falls."
Beast nods and steps outside to make the calls, giving us privacy.
"What exactly are you planning?" Jenny asks, arms folded across her chest, suspicion evident in her eyes. She may have come to me for help, but she doesn't fully trust my methods. I can’t blame her for that.
"First, intelligence gathering," I explain, keeping my voice steady and professional. "We need to know when Mitchell enters Blackwater Falls territory. Then, we intercept him before he can find you."
"And then what?" Amelia asks quietly. "What happens when you intercept him?"
"We have options," I tell her. "None of which involve killing him, unless he forces our hand."
"What options?" Jenny presses.
I sigh, running a hand over my buzzed hair. "We can scare him off. Make it clear that continuing to pursue Amelia will have consequences he's not prepared to deal with. Or we can gather enough evidence of his abuse to force the issue through official channels."
"Official channels don't work," Amelia says bitterly. "I've tried. Multiple times. His fellow officers 'lost' my statements. Witnesses suddenly couldn't remember what they saw. Medical reports got misfiled."
"The Savage Riders have connections beyond Blackwater Falls," I tell her. "Including some in the FBI. Police corruption is exactly the kind of thing they love to sink their teeth into, especially when it involves domestic violence."
This is true, though I've never had to use that particular connection before.
"You'd do that?" Jenny asks, surprised. "Work with the FBI?"
"If necessary." I shrug. "Contrary to what you might think, we're not at war with all law enforcement. Just the corrupt ones."
A small, tired smile tugs at Amelia's lips. "Derek always said all bikers were criminal scum. That they'd never help the law."
"We have our own code," I tell her. "Sometimes it aligns with the law, sometimes it doesn't. In this case, bringing a dirty cop to justice serves both."
"And if he doesn't back down? If you can't gather enough evidence?" Amelia asks.
I meet her gaze steadily. "Then we make sure he understands that touching you or Anna again will be the last mistake he ever makes."
She holds my gaze for a long moment, then nods slowly. "Okay."
Just that. Okay. As if she's entrusting her entire future, her daughter's future, to a man she barely knows. The weight of that trust settles on my shoulders, uncomfortable but not unwelcome. It's been a long time since anyone has looked at me with such faith.
"You should get some rest," I tell her, breaking eye contact before I can dwell on that thought too long. "Tomorrow will be busy."
"I don't think I can sleep," she admits. "Not knowing he's on his way here."
"Try," I urge gently. "Beast and I will take turns keeping watch. Nothing's getting past us."
After a moment's hesitation, she nods and turns toward the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. Jenny follows, pausing only to give me a look I can't quite decipher, something between gratitude and warning.
Once they're gone, I move to the window, scanning the tree line out of habit.
The moonlight creates deep shadows between the pines, perfect hiding places for anyone trying to approach undetected.
But I know no one's out there. Not yet. Mitchell's text was a psychological tactic, meant to keep Amelia fearful and off-balance.
He's probably still hours away, possibly even a day.
Beast returns, slipping back inside silently despite his massive frame. "King's sending Rage and Shadow at first light. Steel's already setting up monitoring stations on the main roads in."
"Good." I roll my shoulders, trying to release some of the tension that's settled there. "We need to know the moment Mitchell crosses into our territory."
"What's our play here, brother?" Beast asks, keeping his voice low. "Are we really thinking FBI involvement? Because that opens up a whole can of worms for the club."
I sigh, knowing he's right. Getting federal agents involved could shine a light on aspects of our operation we prefer to keep in the shadows. "It's a last resort. Ideally, we convince this bastard to walk away without outside intervention."
"And if he doesn't?"
I think of Amelia's bruised face, of Anna's wary eyes, of the way the little girl flinches at sudden movements. Something cold and resolute settles in my gut. "Then we make the decision permanent."
Beast nods, understanding the implication. "King on board with that?"
"King trusts my judgment." Though I make a mental note to call him privately later, just to confirm. We don't take a life without unanimous agreement from the inner circle, not unless it's immediate self-defense.
"You take first watch," I tell Beast. "I need to make a few calls. Wake me in four hours for my shift."
He nods and moves to position himself near the front window, where he has a clear view of the approach to the cabin. I head for the back bedroom that's been set up as a temporary office, closing the door behind me.
Once alone, I pull out my burner phone and dial King's private number. He answers on the second ring.
"Tank. Beast filled me in."
"We need to discuss how far we're willing to go with this," I say without preamble.
"You think this cop's going to force our hand?"
I consider the question. "Men like Mitchell don't back down easily. They see it as weakness. And from what Amelia's told me, he's escalated his violence over time. Classic abuser pattern."
"The kid complicates things," King notes. "Orphaning her isn't ideal."
"No," I agree. "But letting her grow up watching her mother get beaten isn't either."
A heavy silence falls between us. King and I have both seen the lasting damage abuse does to children. We've lived it in different ways.
"Your call, Tank," he says finally. "You're on the ground. You know the situation. If you decide this guy needs to disappear, the club backs your play. But try the non-permanent solutions first, for the kid's sake."
"Understood."
"And Tank?"
"Yeah?"
"This isn't just about your sister and her friend, is it?" King's question cuts closer to the bone than I'd like.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you've got a look in your eye I haven't seen since we were in Afghanistan. The same look you had when we found that village after the warlord's men went through it."
I close my eyes, unwilling to revisit those memories. "Mitchell hurt a woman and a child under his protection. That makes it personal."
"Hmm." King's non-committal response speaks volumes. "Just be careful. Don't let your history color your judgment."
"I won't."
"Good. Rage and Shadow will be there by 0600. I've put the rest of the club on standby. Just say the word, and we're there."
"Thanks, brother."
I end the call and sit heavily on the edge of the bed, King's words echoing in my mind. This isn't just about your sister and her friend, is it?
Is he right? Am I letting this case get under my skin because it reminds me of my own failures? Of how I couldn't protect my mother from my father's psychological abuse? Of how I left Jenny behind to fend for herself?
Or is it something else entirely? Something to do with the way Amelia looks at me with those tired, brave eyes? The way her presence stirs protective instincts I thought long buried under years of violence and emotional detachment?
A soft knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. I stand quickly, hand automatically reaching for the gun at my waist before I catch myself.
"Yes?"
The door opens slightly, and Amelia peers in, her face pale in the dim light. "I'm sorry to bother you, but Anna's having nightmares again. She's asking for you."
"Me?" I can't hide my surprise. "Why?"
A small, sad smile crosses Amelia's face. "She says she wants the man who's 'scarier than Daddy' to check her room for monsters."
"I'll be right there."
I follow Amelia down the short hallway to where Anna is sitting up in bed, her stuffed rabbit clutched tightly to her chest. Jenny sits beside her, murmuring reassurances, but the little girl's eyes are fixed on the closet door across the room.
"There's someone in there," Anna whispers when she sees me. "I heard noises."
I nod solemnly, treating her fear with the respect it deserves. "I'll check. You stay right here with your mom and aunt Jenny."
Crossing to the closet, I make a show of opening the door slowly, hand on my weapon. I scan the small space thoroughly, even moving the hanging clothes and checking the corners. Then I kneel down and look under the bed as well.
"All clear," I announce, returning to Anna's bedside. "No monsters. No bad guys. Just shadows and old clothes."
"Are you sure?" Her little voice wavers with uncertainty.
"Positive." I crouch down to her eye level. "And even if there were monsters, they'd take one look at me and run the other way."
This earns me a tiny smile. "Because you're scary?"
"To monsters and bad guys, absolutely terrifying," I assure her.
She considers this, then asks, "Will you stay? Just for a little bit?"
The request catches me off guard. I glance at Amelia, who looks as surprised as I feel, but she nods encouragingly.
"Sure, kiddo. I can stay for a while." I awkwardly perch on the edge of the bed.
"Can you tell me a story?" Anna asks, snuggling back under her covers but keeping her eyes on me.
"I... don't really know any stories," I admit.
"Make one up," she suggests, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.
I look helplessly at Jenny, who smirks and shrugs as if to say, "You're on your own, big brother."
"Alright." I clear my throat. "Once upon a time, there was a... a brave rabbit named Hoppy."
Anna giggles and holds up her stuffed toy. "Like my Hoppy?"
"Exactly like your Hoppy," I confirm, warming to the task. "Hoppy the rabbit lived in a big forest with his mom, who was the kindest, bravest rabbit in all the land."
"Like my mom," Anna interjects, glancing at Amelia with pure love.
"Just like your mom," I agree. "One day, Hoppy and his mom had to leave their old burrow because... because a big, mean fox kept trying to get in."
"Foxes eat rabbits," Anna says solemnly.
"Yes, they do. But Hoppy and his mom were smart. They traveled far away, through streams and meadows and dark woods, until they found a new place to live. A safe place guarded by... by bears."
"Bears?" Anna's eyes widen. "But bears eat rabbits too!"
"Not these bears," I assure her. "These were special bears who protected little rabbits from foxes and other dangers."
As I continue the improvised tale, spinning a story about how the bears taught Hoppy to be brave and kept the fox from ever finding their new home, I watch Anna's eyelids grow heavier.
By the time I reach the part where the fox gets trapped in his own den, she's fast asleep, her breathing deep and regular.
I stand slowly, trying not to disturb her. When I turn, I find Amelia watching me with an expression that makes my heart beat a little faster.
"Thank you," she whispers as we step out of the room, leaving Jenny to keep watch over Anna.
"No problem." I feel strangely self-conscious, like a teenager caught doing something unexpectedly kind. "It wasn't much of a story."
"It was perfect." Amelia smiles, and for a moment, I can see past the exhaustion and fear to the woman she must have been before Derek Mitchell broke her down. Vibrant. Strong.