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“Tank.” I smack his chest. I can’t believe he said that. He fakes that my hit actually hurt him.
“I think she could take you,” Morry jokes.
“She could.” He smiles, his voice dropping low again for only me. “Anytime and anywhere.” I roll my eyes at him as I climb down from the ring and stand where I think I can get the best view.
“Show me what you got, big fella,” I yell as Tank warms up. Sweat is starting to bead on his chest and he bobs and weaves while throwing punches. I stare at him in awe, watching him work like he’s a well-oiled machine. The origin of his nickname becomes clear. He is indeed a tank. I wait for his opponent to step in the ring, already feeling sorry for whoever it’s going to be.
I’m shocked when I see a kid that can’t be but thirteen step into the ring with Tank. I glance to Morry, whom I’ve taken up residence next to. Well, she technically took it up next to me by coming to stand by me.
I watch as Tank goes a few rounds with the kid, letting him get in a few hits while showing him what he did wrong.
“He’s good with him.”
Morry nods in agreement. “Because he used to be him.” My heart feels heavy thinking about how Tank might have grown up. My mom and dad were jerks at times, but they kept a roof over my head. There might have been a lock on the refrigerator, but they fed me and kept me safe to a certain degree.
“Has Tank told you much about his past?” Morry asks.
“No. Not really. He said that you and his foster mother saved him by introducing him to boxing, but not much more than that.” And I never pressed because I don’t like talking about my past. I figured that if I didn’t want to talk about how I grew up, I didn't have the right to ask those questions of Tank.
“He’s not embarrassed by it, so I don’t mind telling you. He had a shitty childhood. He ran away from home quite a few times because his mother was a drug addict who spent more time looking for her next fix than taking care of him. He would get caught and sent back. Finally, the state stepped in and put him in a foster home. When Patty got him, he was a mess. He wanted to fight everyone.”
“He doesn’t seem like that at all now.” Tank said he had a temper, but I’ve never seen it.
“No. He only gets angry in the ring. He’s learned to channel it. He is…he’s just a pure soul,” Morry sighs. “I’ve never really met anyone like him. He decided overnight he didn’t want to be miserable anymore and he devoted himself to boxing and this gym. He’s gentler with these kids than any daycare worker. And they love him.”
I watch a few more boys show up and join in, getting lost in how sweet but stern he is with them. He’s going to make a good father one day. The thought hits me hard and fast, almost knocking the air out of my lungs. Oddly, I don’t panic; instead it’s excitement that creeps in. Maybe not today but one day. I’ve never given the idea of having kids much thought before now. I wasn't sure I was even going to have them. I get my periods but they’re far from regular. My doctors never seem worried about it. They say it’s because I work out so much with dance. Before this moment I’ve never cared. Now it’s all I can think about.
“Treasure.” My head jerks up at the use of my nickname. “Your phone keeps going off.” I look over to my phone, which is indeed ringing.
I answer when I see Liv’s name. Crap, I haven’t talked to her since Tank carried me off. She’s probably freaking.
“Hey,” I say softly. I don’t want to bother anyone who is focused on their training.
“Tell me you’re okay? Why are you whispering?” She throws one question after another.
“Can we talk about this later? I’m kind of…” I pause for a second. Her voice is off. “Are you crying?” I pick up my bag. Tank must see me, so he jumps out of the boxing ring and immediately comes over to me.
“Where are you? I’m coming. Where are your men?” Now it’s me asking the rapid-fire questions.
“What’s wrong?” Tank guides my face with his hand to look up at his, concern written on his features.
“Who’s that?” Now it’s Liv who is whispering. “Is that Tank?” She gasps. “Did you spend the night with him?” Now she’s whisper-yelling at me. We have gotten off track here.
“Liv! Stop. Where are you?” I shout, trying to remind her that she called me in freaking tears. I make sure I have all my stuff before sliding my bag back on my shoulder. Tank is already ripping off the wraps on his hands, making it clear he’s coming with me.
“Our room,” she finally tells me. Maybe I should get that tracking thing on her like the twins have. It took too long to get that out of her. Now I really see why they did it.
“I’m really sorry,” she whispers into the phone, her voice filling with tears again.
“I’m coming,” I tell her. She was right about one thing. Someone’s going to be sorry for whatever they’ve done to her. From the look on Tank’s face right now, he wants part in whatever that payback is going to be.
CHAPTER15
TANK
The entire floorsmells like pepperoni and melted cheese, which makes me wonder if instead of egging the dorm room, someone threw pizza all over Erika’s door. There’s no pizza in the room when we arrive, but that’s about all that’s missing.
Despite the attempts to clean up by the twins and their girlfriend, the dorm room still looks like it was ransacked by meth heads looking for their next hit.
