Their Property (Four Mercenaries 3)

*

Three hours later, Tank watched Clover sleeping in his sweater and cuddled into Boar’s embrace under a blanket. The fire was still going strong thanks to Pyro, but Drake was nowhere to be seen. Tank had said his goodbyes to Clover earlier, and the boy looked so cozy cuddled up to Boar’s equally relaxed form it didn’t seem right to wake him up.

He pointed at Pyro. “Stay on the right track, okay? For them.” Because Pyro had already proven he wasn’t capable of doing so for his own benefit.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be straight edge by the time you’re back.” Pyro smirked and threw another stick into the fire.

“That, I highly doubt.” Tank snorted. “Take care,” he said and turned, unwilling to prolong the inevitable.

Tank threw the bag he’d just packed over his shoulder and made his way to the pickup.

The warmth of the fire no longer provided light as he headed for the vehicle, but the sight of a silhouette waiting on the other side of the truck had him alert. His hand touched the grip of his gun before he could even think, but then Drake looked over his shoulder and met Tank’s gaze in the dark.

Shoulders slumping, Tank joined him by the driver’s door, both happy to see him and unsettled by the way Drake had so obviously waited for him away from the others.

“So you decided to come say goodbye after all?” Tank grinned, despite the heaviness in his heart, and approached Drake. “Give Daddy a hug.” He could hardly hold in the snort when Drake scowled.

“I’m too old for you to be my daddy.”

Tank sighed and opened the door, hauling his bag into the passenger seat while Drake watched. “Never too old for a hug though?”

Drake crossed his arms, gaze swiping the ground. Drake’s anger couldn’t have been clearer if he’d had needles growing out of him. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. That man has no conscience. One false move, and you’re in a world of pain.”

Tank rubbed his forehead. “I do know what I’m dealing with. I’ve seen what he did to you and Clover. Any man has a breaking point, but I just gotta do my best. If this thing goes well, we get to finish him, and end the threat.”

“And what if it doesn’t?” Drake asked in a voice Tank could barely hear over the humming trees above.

Tank took a deep breath and spread his arms. “Then I die. What do you want me to say? You know this.”

Drake made a strangled sound and bit on his thumb, staring down the dark road where Tank would soon disappear.

Tank pulled Drake into his arms despite Drake’s body language screaming against it. “If things go to shit, you need to promise me you’ll take care of Clover. Worst case scenario, you can go to the safe house in Alaska and take it from there. It’s not ideal, and you’d probably need to move after a while, but it will be a start.”

Drake buried his face in Tank’s hoodie, and his breath wheezed against the fabric. He remained stiff as a wooden board, but he didn’t try to get away, staying where Tank had put him. “I promise. You can count on me.”

Relief was like a living being nestling in Tank’s chest. He’d been afraid Drake had come here to fight over this, be obstructive, or make some petty comment, but no, Drake understood what was at stake.

In a spontaneous gesture Tank couldn’t fight, he nudged Drake’s chin up and kissed his lips oh-so-gently, unwilling to scare him off. “Thank you.”

Drake’s breath tasted of cigarettes. It was sharp and nothing like the soft way he looked at Tank when their lips parted. For a strange moment, they remained close, but Drake cleared his throat and eventually stepped out of Tank’s arms. “Be careful. I’ll take care of everyone here, but don’t be a hero. Remember we’re all waiting for you.”

“I know.” Tank winked at Drake. “But it’s still nice to hear you say it.”

By the time Tank had gotten into the driver’s seat, Drake had already disappeared into the night.

Chapter 14 – Clover

[That stray dog I met, it’s back. Still wary of me, but we’ll get there once I bring him more food. Have a great day, honeybun!]

Clover stared at the message he’d read countless times since Tank had sent it last night. Its presence meant his lover was alive and well. Its contents—that Apollo didn’t yet trust the new guy on his team but seemed to accept him nevertheless. Everything was going according to plan, but Clover remained alert, worried the phone might deliver bad news any day.

He was sitting outside with a cup of cocoa, watching the falling leaves, and still amazed at how easily he’d detached from the Internet after meeting the guys. It had been out of necessity at first, but he’d never felt the need to curate an Instagram account or make friends on Facebook. They had a group chat for all of them, but other than that, Clover enjoyed the nature around them, Boar chopping wood for an evening fire, or deer-spotting on long walks much more than virtual distractions.