This time, the pause was longer before she responded.
You’re scaring me.
He hated that he was doing that. They had only just met each other, and scaring her wasn’t on his list of things that he wanted to do to her. Tank swallowed, his grip tightening on the wheel.
“Good,” he muttered under his breath. “Be scared. Stay put,” he said to himself. Fear kept people alive. It kept them from making stupid decisions or from following guys like him into situations they couldn’t come back from.
His phone buzzed again.
Tank
Just his name, nothing else, and he stared at it far too long before finally typing back.
I’ll explain later.
That was probably a lie because “later” wasn’t something he could promise—not anymore, and not if they were already this close.
Tank tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and pulled out of the lot, his eyes scanning every direction as he merged onto the road. He needed to move. He needed to get far enough away that whatever storm was coming didn’t hit her too. He didn’t want his mess to touch her because she didn’t deserve that.
As the diner disappeared in his rearview mirror, Tank’s jaw tightened. “You should’ve left earlier,” he muttered to himself. But he hadn’t, and now it was too late to pretend this wasn’t about to get a hell of a lot worse.
Tank didn’t go far, and that was the first mistake. He knew it the second he crossed three blocks, then five, and then slowed. He eventually stopped, leaving his engine idling on the quiet street as his eyes scanned his surroundings.
“You’re a dumb son of a bitch,” he muttered to himself, because he should’ve kept going. He should’ve gotten on the highway, put miles between him and Lillith, and disappeared like he always did. Instead, he was still here—too close andexposed. But the worst part about this mess was that he was too damn distracted.
His gaze flicked to the phone sitting in the passenger seat, noticing that the screen was dark, and there were no new messages. That should’ve made things easier on him, but it didn’t, because now his brain had room to think—and thinking was the enemy. Thinking meant remembering, and remembering meant hesitation. And hesitation got people killed. People like Cami. She didn’t deserve to get caught up in his mess, and she definitely didn’t deserve to die. But once the assholes chasing him caught up to her, they didn’t hesitate to kill the woman he loved. Even two years later, it still stung like a son-of-a-bitch.
Tank reached for the phone, unlocking it and pulling up the unknown number again. There was no ID, and he was pretty sure that it was just a burner. They were professionals, which meant this wasn’t random. This wasn’t street-level bullshit. This was definitely them, and they didn’t play games.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I know it’s you.” His thumb hovered over the screen. He knew that he had to delete the messages, dump the phone, and move on. That was the play—it was always the play. Instead, he stared at Lillith’s name and their conversation thread. He stared at the last thing she sent.
Tank
Just his name. It was simple but still tore at his gut. He exhaled slowly, leaning his head back against the seat.
“Don’t,” he told himself. “Don’t go back.” Because going back meant risking her life, and he wasn’t that selfish—was he? A flash of her dark hair and blue eyes ran through his mind, anddamn—that smile. He remembered the words that she said to him.
Not when I think that they matter.
His jaw clenched. “Fuck.” Tank sat up straight, his decision snapping into place before he could second-guess it. He wasn’t leaving—not yet. Not until he made sure she was safe, and not until he knew for a fact they hadn’t already circled too close to her. Because if they had, if they’d followed him to her, he’d never forgive himself. The truck shifted into gear, and this time, he knew exactly where he was going.
He parked about a block away from her sister’s house. At least, he hoped that it was her house. Lillith had given him an approximate location, and a Google search did the rest for him. He cut the lights to his truck and turned off the engine, wanting to keep things as quiet as possible.
Tank stepped out of his truck, shutting the door without a sound as his eyes swept the street. It was a quiet neighborhood. The houses were close enough to hear the neighbors, and the porch lights were on. He noticed the TV light flickering behind a curtain, which seemed pretty normal to him. Hell, it all looked normal, but that didn’t mean anything.
He moved like a shadow, sticking to the edges of buildings and keeping his head down while his eyes missed nothing. He didn’t trust the quiet—never did. He knew not to let his guard down, even if everything seemed on the up and up. Tank circled the block once, and then again. He was looking for patterns—anything out of place, a car that didn’t belong, a figure lingering too long, or even a shift in the dark that didn’t sit right with him. But he saw nothing, which was almost worse, because menlike the ones hunting him didn’t make mistakes. They didn’t get sloppy. Instead, they waited and watched for him to slip up, and then struck when it mattered most—like with Cami.
His gaze landed on the house, and he noticed a few lights still on upstairs. Good—that meant Lillith might still be awake and was probably safe—for now. Tank stepped closer, stopping just short of the property line. That was close enough for him to see, but not to be seen. That was the line that he wouldn’t cross.
He stayed there for a long moment, watching, listening, and waiting. He saw no movement except the occasional shadow passing by a window. There were no signs of forced entry or trouble. Everything seemed normal, and Tank let out a slow breath.
“Good,” he muttered. Because that was all he could hope for. Lillith was safe for now, and his job was done. He could leave now. He should have left before he crossed a line he couldn’t come back from. Or before she saw him standing out here like some creep who couldn’t stay away.
The front door opened, and Tank froze. Lillith stepped out onto the porch—barefoot with her hair loose, wearing that oversized shirt that made something in his chest tighten in a way he didn’t like, or understand. God, she was beautiful.
“Really?” she called softly into the night. His jaw clenched. Of course, she knew that he was there because women like her didn’t miss much.
“Are you gonna keep hiding out there, or are you gonna come talk to me?” Tank stayed where he was. He didn’t move or breathe for fear that she’d see him. “You’re not as stealthy as you think you are,” she added, a hint of amusement in her voice. Yeah, he’d been made.
