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Tank pulled into the alley before stopping the car and stepping out. The cold wind whispered through the narrow passage, carrying the scent of urban decay. A figure emerged from the shadows—Luca Peretti, once his father’s right-hand man, had taken over the business after Mario was sentenced to life without parole.
Peretti had always been an imposing figure, with a barrel chest and broad shoulders, though Tank still dwarfed him in size. He had a heavy-set jaw and a gaze as sharp as the gleaming blade tucked into his belt. Peretti was a man accustomed to power and control, but Tank knew that power had only come at his father’s expense.
“Anthony Olson,” Peretti greeted, his voice carrying the weight of respect. “It's been a while.”
Tank offered a curt nod, acknowledging the connection that transcended mere business. Peretti wasn’t as bad as his father had been. That was the only reason that Tank had let him maintain the hold on the family after he’d torn the evil infrastructure to the ground before leaving. “I need information.”
“Did you bring what I requested?”
Tank opened the trunk of the rental sedan and pulled out the payment . He wrapped his hand around the tiny upper arm of the wiry drug dealer Peretti had demanded in exchange for the meeting and placed him on his feet. Then he shoved the guy forward.
Peretti's eyes flickered with interest as he assessed the captive. The dealer trembled, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his eyes flicking back and forth, searching for an escape he wouldn’t find.
Peretti crossed his arms, a wicked grin stretching across his face.
“So glad to have you back, Anthony. Let me just…” Peretti stepped toward the man.
Tank glanced toward the wall with a wince. A sharp cry and the sound of a body hitting the ground filled the stale alley air. Tank's jaw clenched, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. He looked back and found Peretti wiping his knife with a handkerchief, a sick satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
Tank felt a twinge of regret at handing over the man to the leader of the crime organization, but he’d do whatever it took to get Lia back. And really, what was one less drug dealer on the street? Peretti would have found a way to get to him either way, but his father’s former right hand would get great pleasure at having Tank doing his bidding.
“Now, what is it you need from me, son?”
Tank nearly chipped a tooth, his jaw clenched so hard in protest to the familial term. He ignored it. Pushing Peretti’s buttons wouldn’t go well. “A black ops group called Citadel Security is in your city, but they’re operating in the shadows. I need to know where.”
Peretti hesitated, his eyes studying Tank's face for any sign of weakness. “You know, Tank, the family's been talkin'. There's a place for you here. We could use someone with your skills. You should never turn your back on family.”
Tank's stomach flipped, the memories of a past life threatening to resurface. Family here was a sick and twisted mutation of the real thing. Cruelty, blackmail, secrets, and bondage without a hint of true love.
His thoughts shifted to Lia and Kaylie, laughing on his couch with pizza and cartoons. Then to Black Tower, who were with him through thick and thin. “I have a family,” he said coolly. “All I need from you is the location of Citadel’s operation. And then I’ll be gone.”
Peretti's expression hardened, disappointment lingering beneath the surface. “You Olson boys, always choosin' the hard way.”
Tank let the fury show on his face. He was done playing Peretti’s games. “I wiped out your competition all those years ago. I’m the reason you’re the leader of the family today. You owe me, remember?”
There it was, Tank’s dirty secret. He hadn’t just left when he turned eighteen, had he? No. He had torn apart his father’s organization layer by layer and provided the feds with enough information that Mario was serving a life sentence. People thought Peretti had pulled it off, but the truth was that Tank handed the family over to him on a silver platter.
Peretti chuckled, low and lazy. “I’m a man of my word, son.” He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a deep inhale before answering. “I’ve heard rumors of a military group. They keep to themselves, but they sure leave a lot of bodies in their wake. Bodies with injuries that just… aren’t natural. Word is they’re operating on the lake shore, in one of the old steel mills. Be careful.”
A thrill of victory fluttered in his chest. That was the kind of information they could use. Joey would have no problem isolating which of the abandoned steel mills was housing Citadel’s operation.
With a nod of gratitude, Tank turned away, the cold wind biting at his skin as he climbed back into the car.
Peretti’s voice called after him. “You don’t get to choose your family, Anthony. You can pretend to be the white knight all you want, but you’ll always be his son!”
Tank slammed the door of the car, once again locking his past away. He just hoped it would stay buried again.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Kaylie nervously tapped her fingers against the table, her eyes flickering toward the entrance every few seconds. Ryder and Marshall were unloading weapons and tactical gear she couldn’t identify from the totes that had been waiting for them when they arrived. They exchanged concerned glances, while Jackson worked on his laptop, a veil of concentration on his face. The atmosphere was charged with uncertainty, the minutes stretching into an eternity. Tank had been gone too long, hadn’t he? Why wasn’t anyone trying to find him?
When the door finally creaked open, Kaylie's heart leaped into her throat. Tank stepped in, fatigue etched on his face. Her eyes immediately sought his, and a wave of relief washed over her at the sight of him. She traced the lines of his expression, searching for any hint of what he had been doing for the last three hours.
There was a new darkness in his gaze, though, and she longed to go to him. A subtle shake of his head was enough to have her lowering back into her chair, trying to ignore the hurt his distance brought. He’d promised they would talk, right? But all the unknowns about their relationship were driving her crazy. He was right, they needed to focus on Lia. But was it too much to ask to know whether he saw a future for them or not?
Ryder, Marshall, and Jackson moved forward, their eyes fixed on their teammate. Kaylie's pulse quickened, anxiety knotting in her stomach. She waited for Anthony to speak, the anticipation clawing at her insides.
