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Rose made a show of looking around.
“If you run, there is a good chance you will die in the heat or from whatever was brave enough to bite you before one of us finds you,” he warned.
“I’m looking for the train y’all plan on running on me.”
“What the hell was in those books?”
“Protected by the club or a club whore? I signed up for the bar bitch position, as you so eloquently put it.”
“You really are going to be a thorn in my ass,” he grumbled. “Put the damn cut on Rose. I didn’t bring you here to be free pussy.”
“I’m not putting that on.” Rose stood defiantly.
“I suppose we can negotiate.”
“Handsome and smart.”
“I can always have our brand tattooed on your skin. I’m a reasonable enough man to let you pick where as long as it is visible.”
“How would you feel about a permanent marker?”
“How would you feel about a week in the shed?” He growled, pointing to the dilapidated building between the main building and the garage. It gave off horror flick vibes stronger than the sun beating down on them.
“Not much of a gardener,” Rose gulped.
Rose was confident in her skills, but there was no way she could take Tank on her own. She couldn’t scream for help if he tried to shove her into the shed. The only person who would come running at her distressed cries would be Ladybug. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Reluctantly, Rose took the cut from his hand.
“Cactus isn’t my jam. How about I just wear the vest? It’s black. It will match everything. Super slimming, right?”
Slipping her arms through the vest, she tugged it on over her tank. She didn’t want to think about why it fit her like a glove. It was just a happy coincidence. Yep, that was what she was going with.
“That’s what I thought,” he chuckled.
“Bunny, can I ask you a question?”
“Son of a bitch. I should have just shot the kid.”
“So that is a yes?” Rose didn’t bother to wait for an answer. “What is your name?”
“Prez.”
“I find it hard to believe Prez is listed on your birth certificate.”
“Tank.”
“And your momma’s name was Jeep?”
“Russell, and if you ever tell anyone that, it will be two weeks in the shed.”
“That’s okay. I like Bunny better.”
“Going to have to assign you a babysitter, aren’t I?”
“I’m athletic, so choose wisely,” she warned. “But I have no idea what you mean. I’ll be a model prisoner. Do I get good behavior credits?”
“Let’s go before you have a heat stroke. The doctor doesn’t come out here anymore.”
“What?” Rose scoffed. “He doesn’t care for the ambiance? Did you put him in the shed?”
