Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Too late now,” Tank growled. “What if the job follows you here, huh? There’s variables, shit you can’t predict. You’re not ready, baby.”
Tank kicked the back of Clover’s knee, making him lose balance, and the moment he had that advantage, he hoisted Clover over his shoulders, intent on carrying him back to the table so that they could all have dessert in peace.
But Clover wouldn’t have it, and wiggled his way forward, sliding out of Tank’s grip without caring that he’d fall to the grass. Tank groaned at the dull thud, but Clover really wasn’t holding back. He grabbed Tank’s calf, and when Tank wouldn’t budge despite Clover’s efforts to pull his leg from under him, he pressed a sensitive spot behind the knee. This time, Tank dropped to the ground with a groan.
His lungs expanded to suck in more air, and his brain switched from relaxation to the razor-sharp focus Tank experienced when working. He grabbed Clover when the little flea tried to get away and swooped him underneath, keeping him trapped with his weight.
“Give up!” he yelled, for extra intimidation.
Clover whimpered, pushing at Tank’s face, but he too was cautious. He didn’t stab his fingers into Tank’s eyes like he could have attempted to when up against a real adversary. “Get off, Tank! It hurts! I think you crushed my rib!”
All of Tank’s protective senses went into overdrive, and he rolled off to give Clover space. “Fuck, kid, I’m so sorry. Where does it hurt?” he asked, but Clover dashed over the grass in a swirl of white and scrambled into Boar’s lap with his face shining like a red beacon.
“Got you,” he said with a smile, and yelped when Pyro pushed a cold bottle of beer against his ass.
“That settles it,” Drake said, sipping his drink like a fat cat who’d just been given raw chicken dipped in cream.
Tank sat up, staring at the little traitor in disbelief. “What the fuck? That wasn’t fair!”
Clover shrugged. “Anything can happen on a job, right?”
Tank’s jaws clenched so hard his teeth hurt. “An enemy wouldn’t have cared! That’s cheating!”
Pyro shrugged, completely unbothered. “Dunno, we haven’t discussed any rules, so I say he won this one. Maybe you’re getting soft, Tank.”
Soft? He was not getting soft. He wasn’t ready to hurt Clover in order to win an argument. What the hell was wrong with that?
“Clover, that was not on.”
Clover played with Boar’s beard, his gaze not meeting Tank’s. “I know, but I still had to try.”
Drake leaned back in the chair with a nod. “That’s my student right there. If you’re not a wall of muscle, you gotta use every advantage you have.”
Tank met his gaze with a fire burning in the pit of his stomach. He was ready to unleash all of his anger on Drake’s smug face.
Boar cleared his throat, his mouth slightly stiff when he spoke. “Look, if this causes such discontent, maybe we should really skip this job and choose something easier.”
Tank spread his arms wide, snarling at them all. “Was I not clear enough? I want that fucking money! We’ve been living like fattened pigs for a year now, and I don’t know about your bank accounts, but mine’s draining. This whole thing we’re doing only works if we save up for the future. I don’t know if you guys noticed, but I’m turning forty next year. I can’t do this forever. I’ve got maybe ten years left in me. That’s life, we don’t live forever. The job looks good and promises big money. Of course we fucking do it.” Tank’s chest heaved by the end of his tirade.
Boar shook his head and buried his face in Clover’s hair. “Fine, fine.”
“Together,” Drake said, confronting Tank with his steady gaze.
With five men living under the same roof, conflict was inevitable, but it was easy to resolve when arguments broke over Pyro never replacing toilet paper or whose turn it was to take out the trash.
That did sound like they were an old married quintuple, and Tank wasn’t sure whether that made him happy or resentful. Why was he the bad guy here when all he wanted was to protect the integrity of this relationship by keeping its core safe? There was no point in pleasing the boy by agreeing with him if it might end up with tragic consequences.
Tank considered it his mission to watch over Clover, so that he didn’t grow up to be a brat, that he learned to protect himself, and so that he was honest and reliable even if living on the wrong side of the law. But Clover was also his baby boy, the apple of his eye, the sweet dollop of sugar, cream, and meringue, to be cherished and pampered. The thought that he could be crushed by some brutes had Tank cringing.