Tank woke with a jerk. He panted as sweat soaked his hairline and a searing pain shot down the side of his neck.

A nightmare.

He closed his eyes again and counted to ten, envisioning Annie as a young girl across the water, his grandpa by his side. Anytime he had a nightmare, he tried to push it away with something happy. Something good. The letters he’d received no doubt triggered the nightmare. He’d have to talk to his mom about them, and soon.

He opened his eyes again and tried to move his arm. Stuck. Annie slept soundly cuddled right next to him on the sofa. At least he hadn’t woken her. A grown man having nightmares…that, itself, would be a nightmare to explain.

They’d fallen asleep watching Batman. Scrubbed clean of makeup, and her bruises fading, he could see her beautiful features again. He peered down at the face of the girl he remembered walking barefoot in the creek with her father all those years ago, the worry of the past six months with Duke waning from her features.

Her lips, so full and rosy, sat inches from his. Tempted to steal the kiss he longed for, he decided to slip his arm out from under her head and scoot his way off the couch instead. If they ever did kiss, she would be awake for it. He wouldn’t take anymore from her than she’d already lost.

He hurried to get dressed for work, leaving her to sleep, his furry companion by her side. Tank slipped his cellphone in his back pocket and left her a note.

Sorry to take the phone. Need to call my mom. Father has a phone.

Quietly, Tank eased out the door as the counselor cruised down the drive on his Heritage Softail.

Tank waved to the leader of the pack.

“Morning.” Father pulled up beside him. “Where’s Annie? I brought breakfast.” The man pulled out a package of donuts from his satchel.

“On the couch, being Sleeping Beauty.”

“You’re making a pretty thing like that sleep on your couch?” Father turned off the ignition to Harley.

“No. Normally, I sleep on the couch, but we were watching a movie, and then we both fell asleep.”

The leader’s face split in a wide grin. “Uh-huh, sure. You both just fell asleep.”

“No, it wasn’t like that.” Tank shook his head. “She’s not…it’s not…we’re not…” He fumbled with his words.

“Lord, son. Are you blushing?”

“No. I’m not blushing.” He shook his head again and stared at his boots.

Shit this man sure has a way of busting my balls.

“Yeah, you are. You’re blushing.” Father slapped him on the back. “You better get to work before you’re late, or before Annie comes out here and sees you looking like a tomato ready to gush over thoughts of her.”

He ran a hand over his face. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“Yep.” The man rocked on his heels, and placed his hands in his back pockets. “Where’s your water hose? I’ve got to wash Harley.” He patted the seat of his bike. “She’s getting a little dirty.”

“Around back.” Tank got his nerves under control and stared back at the man. “Why do you call your hog Harley, anyway?”

“One day, son. I’ll tell you…one day. Where’s your wax?”

“In the garage.” He straddled his own bike. “You might want to see if Annie wants to help you. I think she’s going stir crazy.”

“Yeah, she’s cute. Maybe she’ll wear a white shirt while she does it.”

Tank gave him a hard stare and grimaced. “Not funny, man.”

Father folded in half-hooting with laughter. “Oh yeah, the look on your face is hysterical.” He stood back upright. “Son, I’m kidding.”

“Whatever.” Tank revved his bike. “Behave, old man.”

“No fun in that.” Father hollered over the noise of the engine. “Remember, Bear has court today at three-thirty. Tree’s coming to relieve me here. Are you going to make it to the courthouse? Nat asked about you.”

The court date that could put Bear’s abuser behind bars. He wouldn’t miss it for anything. “I’ll be there. See you this afternoon.”

He drove his bike down the drive to his mailbox. He’d forgot to check it the past few days. Thankfully, a blonde had begun to occupy most of his thoughts. He pulled the door down on the box, grabbed the pile, and flipped through it. A small, white envelope stuck out from the stack of sales papers.

Another one. Damn it. He could no longer put off talking to his mom.

Tank shoved the pile back in the box and drove the ten miles into town, doing his best to ignore the pressure pounding in his chest.

He drove behind Rake’s and parked his bike just as his phone buzzed a jazzy ringtone in his pocket.

Speak of the devil.

“Hey, Momma. I was getting ready to call you. How are you?”

“Hey, Ty, honey. I hadn’t heard from you in over a week. I just got this overwhelming feeling I needed to call you. How are things in Black Widow?”

“Good. Busy. Hey, Mom…I need to ask you something.”

“Must be why I felt like I needed to call. What’s up?”

When his mother found out about his dad, her senses had been on high alert ever since. Tank chalked it up to either mother’s intuition or mother’s remorse. He wasn’t sure which. He just wished she had been so in tune with him before his father had done what he did.

“I’ve been getting letters from the prison. Did you give him my new address?”

A sigh came over the phone. “Yes, I did.”

He grit his teeth. “What? Why in the hell would you do that?”

“He begged me, Ty. He called me one day and begged for your new address so he could keep writing you. He said the letters he sent to your old house were sent back. He even cried over the phone.”

So what? He never cared about all the times he made me cry. The sick bastard relished in his tears.

“You had no right, Mom. You should have asked me first.”

“I’m sorry, hon, but I think, maybe, you should listen to what he has to say.”

“I don’t give a…” One of his coworkers walking through the back door glared at him. He lowered his voice. “I don’t care what he has to say, and I never will.”

“Okay, I understand.” His mom’s voice grew softer on the other end. “I just hate to see you so eaten up inside about…about everything that happened.”

“What would you rather me do, forgive and forget?”

“Forget, no, but forgive, yes.”

The heaviness he carried from seeing another envelope engulfed his chest again. “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have raised my voice, but I don’t think I can do either of those things.”

“It’s okay. Let’s change the subject. Tell me about Black Widow.”

He sighed and hung his head. Changing the subject. Yes, that was best for both of them.

“I… I uh…” He wiped his hand down his face. “I went to a meeting of that biker group I told you about. I’ve been doing some work with them.”

“That’s good, hon. Made any friends.”

Friends? He chuckled. No matter how hard he tried, he could never stay mad at his mom. She always talked to him like he was still in junior high. Still her little boy.

“Yeah, you could say I’ve made some friends. There is the leader of the pack, Father. He’s annoying as hell, but overall seems like a nice guy.”

“What about a lady friend? Have you made any of those?”

Oh, Lord. Here we go. The I want grandchildren speech. “There is someone, but I’m not real sure yet. I like her. I like her a lot, actually, but it’s too soon to know anything.”

He knew others fell in love, but the notion seemed foreign to him. However, with Annie he couldn’t stop the magnetic pull he seemed to have toward her. Yet the timing, their baggage...it was all so intense.

“Oh, I’m so happy you found someone. I’d like to come visit right after the fourth. I’m on shift work this weekend at the hospital, but I’ll have a few days off after that. I’d love to meet your friends.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. I may have to work, though, but maybe…” He glanced around to make sure no one overheard. “Maybe my friend can help keep you company.”

“Oh, the girl-friend?” Her voice took on a conspiratorial tone.

“Yes, Mom.” Tank rolled his eyes.

Leona stepped out of her car and tapped her wrist. He was supposed to be inside, ready to work. He nodded to her.

“Listen, Mom, I’ve got to run. I’m supposed to be clocking in right now.”

“Okay, hon. I’ll see you next week. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” He clicked off his phone, and ran into the garage. He’d never introduced his mom to a girl before. None of them had ever seemed like the right girl…

Until now.

* * *

Annie turned on her side and opened her eyes as a cool draft caressed her skin. Her vision blurred, and she rubbed a hand over her face. A popcorn bag came in to focus on the floor.

Popcorn. A movie.

She glanced around the room. They’d fallen asleep during the movie. But where was Tyler now?

Alfred snored softly on the floor beside the couch. She lazily rubbed a hand over the dog’s side and glanced around for him. A whooshing sound traveled through the water pipes coming from inside the walls. She stood and stretched, peeking into the hall at the bathroom door. Open. She peered into the kitchen. Empty.

Where is Tyler?

Alfred stood and barked at the front door. “Hang on, bud.” She lifted the curtain and glanced out the window. Father stood in the grass, spraying his bike down. A sinking feeling plopped in her stomach. If Father was here, Tyler was gone.

He didn’t say goodbye.

She shook her head at the foolish notion as she slipped her shoes on. Tyler was nothing more than a glorified roommate with bodyguard benefits. He didn’t have to tell her goodbye every time he left. He didn’t even have to talk to her.

Still, an annoying feeling twisted her gut. The same feeling she got last night when he talked about the deer being safe on his land. As long as the creatures stayed on his property, they would be protected. Same with her. As long as she stayed, she would be secure. But she didn’t want to play it safe anymore. Not when it came to him, and not when it came to her living there.

She wanted to live her life again.

When she opened the front door, Alfred barreled outside and charged off the steps toward Father, barking; his backside wagged in greeting.

“Morning.” The biker gave her a wave as he reached down to pet the pup.

“Good morning. Do you know what time it is?”

“A little after eight. Tank just left about fifteen minutes ago.” The man reached into a sudsy soap bucket for a sponge as the dog stuck his head in it.

Fifteen minutes. She’d missed telling him goodbye by fifteen minutes.

That same, nagging feeling from yesterday sank like a hard rock in her gut, and turned into a slight fear. What if he didn’t want to tell her goodbye? Perhaps he did see her as nothing more than a glorified roommate. Someone to help with the laundry and the dishes.

“You okay?” Father asked. “You look a little confused.”

“I’m fine. You need any help with that?” Annie stepped down the porch steps. She needed to busy herself. Worrying about Tyler leaving without saying goodbye was irritating her. Even though she told herself she shouldn’t care.

He stared back at her. “Your shirt is white.”

She looked down. “Yeah, so?”

“Then, no.” Father slapped the sponge on his bike. “I’ve got it. I wouldn’t want your shirt to get ruined.”

The man mumbled something under his breath. She couldn’t make all of it out, but it sounded like Tank wouldn’t like that.

“Okay then. I think I’m going to go for a little walk. Stretch my legs a bit.”

“Don’t go too far. I brought donuts.” The biker pointed to a box on the porch. “And The Morning Show’s coming on in fifteen minutes.”

The Morning Show. The older man’s favorite. Annie had told him on his first time babysitting that she enjoyed the show. In truth, she couldn’t stand two of the four co-hosts, but Father seemed giddy to watch the garbage, so she lied to please him. Now, at least twice a week, she was donned with the horror of watching the gossip reel.

“Sure. I won’t.” She gave him a little wave.

“Why don’t you go get the mail? I saw Tank check the box, flip through it, then put a bunch of it back in. Looked like he hadn’t checked it in days.”

The mail. She hadn’t seen the sales papers strewn all over the countertop lately. Not that she missed it. “I think you’re right. I’ll do that.”

Annie strolled down the drive, Alfred on her heels. The morning sun felt glorious on her skin. Even though the humidity was comparable to walking in a greenhouse, she’d gladly suffer the suffocating air, as long as she didn’t have to be trapped inside. Even her fear of being outside seemed to dissipate slightly. Then again, she did have her scary protector trotting beside her. Al’s tongue hung out the side of his mouth, and his tail wagged his whole backside.

Yeah, real scary.

She flipped the lid down on the mailbox and reached inside. On top of the pile sat a small envelope addressed to Tyler. The return address read Wade Correctional Facility. She paused and stared at the package, her fingers trembled holding the contents. Why was Tyler getting letters from a prison? In her haste to get away from Duke, she never once thought about Tyler having a criminal record. But hadn’t JoJo said they did a background check on him?

Her whole body shook slightly as she gripped the pile of mail tighter. Alfred licked her leg and stared up at her as he flopped his tail against the dirt-covered drive.

She glanced at the dog. Tyler had rescued Al, and he’d never once made her feel unsafe or uncomfortable. Surely, a hardened criminal wouldn’t be so kind. She shuffled her feet against the dirt as she made her way back to the house.

Father dumped his bucket of soapy water in the grass. “Annie, you ready for breakfast?” he called to her, then looked up from his task. “Whoa, you look white as a sheet. You sure you’re okay?”

She licked her parched lips and pressed the mail against her chest. “Yeah.” Annie nodded as her heart pounded faster. “Umm…when you guys let someone into the Blue Guardians, JoJo mentioned background checks. Do you do one on everyone?”

“Of course. Why?”

“So, you did one on Tyler, right?”

The man put his hands in his back pockets. “Of course we did. In fact, I did it myself.”

The shaking in her limbs eased a little. “So, nothing came up, right?”

“He’s as clean as Harley here.” Father reached over and rubbed a hand on the seat of his bike. “Where’s this coming from? Did Tank do something, because—”

“Oh, no. Not at all. He’s been great, but I just realized in my haste to get away from a bad situation, did I…could I maybe be jumping into another…oh never mind. It’s not important.”

He shot her a concerned look. “Are you sure, Annie? Because if you’re not comfortable here, the Guardians can help find another place—”

“No.” She shook her head and cut him off again. “Tyler is great. Come on. It’s almost time for The Morning Show, and I’m starving.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.” He held his arm out for her to wrap hers around it. “Here, let me carry that mail for you.”

“No.” Annie pressed the pile tighter to her chest. “I’ve got it. You grab the donuts.” She pointed to the box. “I hope Sandi put an éclair in there.”

“She did. Just for you.” He held the door open. “Let’s turn the T.V. on. Those pretty underwear models are supposed to be doing an interview this morning.”

“Oh, you didn’t hear. The models canceled. Something about having to do a shoot in the Bahamas and getting trapped there by a hurricane.”

“What? Oh, man. That ruins my whole morning.”

She snickered as some of the pressure from worrying about Tyler lifted from her shoulders. “Just kidding, old man. Come on.”

“Old man?” Father slapped the donut box to his heart. “That hurts. I’m not old, I’m seasoned.”

“Like a fine wine,” Annie teased.

“Now you’re talking. Let’s go girlie.”

She followed the man into the house, her heart lighter knowing Tyler had a clean record, yet her curiosity weighed heavy with concern. If he was a friend of criminals, what did that say about his own morals? Duke seemed nice at first, too, but he changed.

And yet, here she was falling head over heels for another man that she didn’t know much about. Who was Tyler really? And was she safe in his care?