Chapter 27 – TANK #2
"Tank?" She's looking at me now, and there's something sad in her eyes. "I know you hate me now. I get it. After what I did, how I left..." She trails off, and I see her fingers start that familiar count against her thigh. "But for what it's worth… I never stopped thinking about you."
The words hit me like bullets. Worse than bullets.
Wait… she thinks I hate her?
All this time—every moment I've kept my distance, every time I couldn't meet her eyes, every silence I thought was protecting her—she read it all as hatred?
Fuck.
I'm such a goddamn idiot.
My hands move before I can think, signs sharp and desperate. Don't hate you. Could NEVER hate you.
"Then why?" Her voice cracks slightly. "Why have you been avoiding me? Why won't you even look at me?"
I can tell she's trying not to look too long at my face, at the scars visible above the mask. Her eyes stay fixed on mine instead, giving me the privacy I've always demanded.
Didn't know what to do. The words feel inadequate as I sign them.
"What do you mean?"
This. I gesture vaguely between us, at the space that used to feel comfortable and now feels like a minefield. All of this. Don't like it.
Her eyes widen slightly, genuine surprise flickering across her face. "You don't like what? The contract?"
Any of it. My signs are sharper now, anger bleeding through. Kade's bullshit. The collar. Treating you like property.
She's quiet for a long moment, studying me intently. "I guess I'm not as good at reading you as I used to be," she murmurs, and there's something sad in her voice. "I thought you wanted this too."
Want you safe, I sign. Want you happy. Not... THIS.
She stares at me for long enough I forget how to breathe. How to think. How to do anything other than watch her like she's the only thing in this world that exists because she's the only thing that matters.
"Tank…"
She says my name so softly. The way she used to. The way only she ever has.
Then, something changes. She moves closer. Closer than anyone's been to me since…
Since her.
Since she was riding on the back of my bike, her arms wrapped around my waist, and everything in my world was right.
"Since you didn't like your dessert," she says, her voice dropping to something softer, "maybe you'd want to try something else instead."
I stare at her, convinced I'm hearing wrong. Understanding wrong.
There's no fucking way she means…
"Unless you're also hung up on letting Kade be first," she continues, and there's challenge in her voice now.
Heat.
Fuck that, I sign before I can think better of it.
Her lips curve into something that's almost a smile. She backs up a few steps, slipping out of her shoes to rest her feet in the bare grass, pink heels dangling from her fingertips.
"Then come here."
But I don't move. Can't. Because this doesn't make sense.
Why? The sign is simple, but it carries the weight of every doubt I've ever had. Why would you want this? With me?
She closes the distance between us again with slow, deliberate steps. Each one makes my heart beat harder, makes my breath come faster through the mask.
"Because it's you," she says simply, like that explains everything.
It doesn't. Doesn't explain why she'd want someone who looks like me when she could have anyone. Doesn't explain why she's reaching for my face right now, her fingers trembling slightly as they approach the mask.
I flinch. Can't help it. The instinct to protect her from seeing what's underneath is bone-deep, older even than these feelings for her, stronger than my want.
But she doesn't pull back. Just keeps reaching, her fingers finally making contact with the fabric. She doesn't try to remove it. Just traces the edge where it meets my damaged skin, following the line of scars that climb toward my fucked up eye.
"I never wanted you to hide," she whispers. "Not from me."
You don't understand, I sign, my hands shaking. What's under my mask. What I am. A monster.
"A monster?" she echoes. "That's what you think?"
I nod, unable to meet her eyes.
"Tank." She waits until I look at her. "I've seen monsters. Real ones. The kind that wear expensive suits and smile for cameras while they—" She stops, swallows hard. "You're not a monster. You never were."
Even other monsters think I'm a fucking monster, I sign.
"Then they're idiots." Her hand moves from the mask to my chest, palm flat over my heart. "This is what matters. Not what's underneath the mask. This."
The touch burns through my shirt, through skin, straight to the part of me that's been dead since she left. The part I thought I'd successfully killed with distance and violence and refusing to let myself hope.
She's bringing it back to life, and I don't know if that's mercy or cruelty.
"I want you first," she says, and the words are so simple, so direct, they steal my breath. "Not Kade. Not the others. You. Right now. If you'll have me."
Ellie—
"I know what I'm asking." She moves closer, her body almost flush against mine now. "I know what I signed. But that contract says I belong to all of you. Not just Kade. So unless you're going to tell me you don't want this..."
She trails off, waiting.
I should say no, for her sake. Should sign that this is wrong, use the excuse that Kade will lose his shit even though I couldn't give less of a fuck what he wants when it comes to her.
But my hands move without permission, reaching for her hips, pulling her against me.
Want you, I sign with one hand while the other stays locked on her hip. Always wanted you.
"Then take me. Please, Tank. Make me forget everything except this," she murmurs, her fingers carding through my dark hair.
The please breaks me.
I lift her like she weighs nothing, carrying her the few steps to where the grass is softer, away from the log and the path. She wraps her legs around my waist, and even through layers of fabric I can feel her heat.
I lower us to the ground, settling her beneath me. The grass cushions her back, and the thin little rays of sunlight that make it through the trees turn her skin golden, too perfect to touch. She's so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at her.
You're sure? I sign, giving her one last chance to back out.
"I've never been more sure of anything." Her hands find my belt, already working the buckle with trembling fingers. "I need this. Need you."
I help her with the belt, the button, the zipper. My hands are steadier than they should be, muscle memory from countless times I've imagined this exact moment.
Except in my fantasies, I'm not wearing a mask. Not hiding half my face from the only person who's ever made me feel truly and completely human.
But in my fantasies, I'm not a monster. I'm a person. One who deserves her.
But that's where my experience ends. Fantasy. I've never actually done this, and the reminder hits me like a cold bucket of water.
She looks up at me, senses my hesitation as her fingertips graze the bulge in my jeans, and she tilts her head just enough that gold and pink spills back over her shoulder. "Tank? What's wrong?"
I can't answer. My throat is too tight.
Here I am, on the threshold of the only fantasy I've ever had, and all I can think is how fucking terrified of her finding out I'm even more fucked up than she could imagine because I've never even done this.
Never even been touched by another person.
I thought about it a handful of times. Thought about going to one of the women who work the bars outside our territory, so there wouldn't be any pressure if they wanted to back out. But in the end, it just felt… wrong. Like using someone.
No, more than that, it felt wrong because it wasn't her. The only girl I've ever loved. The only person I've ever wanted to touch, even if I never, not even for a second, imagined she would want me.
Choose me.
Then the realization lights up her eyes and I know it's all over anyway. Just as well. She would have regretted it, and I don't think I could live with myself seeing that look in her eyes. Knowing the best moment of my life was something that caused her pain or regret.
"You're… you've never done this?" There's no judgment in her voice. Just curiosity, but I can't bear to look at her.
All I can do is shake my head like a fucking idiot.
Then she takes my hand. Hers fits inside it like a bird in a cave, fluttering softly as she laces her fingers with mine.
"I can show you," she says softly. Gently. A goddess coming down from the mountaintop to offer an impossible gift to a mortal. "If you want."
When I finally dare to look at her again, there's no amusement on her perfect face. No condescension or mockery, just the desire that's somehow not extinguished by the pathetic revelation that was just dropped on her.
If I want.
I've never wanted anything more in my life. Didn't know it was possible to want anything, anyone, this much.
And she fucking wants me, too.