Unearthing what happened would be a slow and painful excavation, but it needed to be attempted if Tank was to know how to deal with Clover.
“He’ll be fine. You’ll see,” he said and tried to squeeze Clover’s shoulder from behind, but the boy flinched, glancing at him as if he expected a punch coming his way.
It was like a knife in the gut, but Tank swallowed and kept his face neutral despite the rejection. It hardly mattered when he was overcome with worry for the boy who’d always been so cheerful and fearless, no matter how much he got his ass kicked in training.
Clover swallowed. “Will he though?”
Tank pulled a chair closer and sat at a distance Clover should find safe. His gaze drifted to Drake’s swollen face, and he realized he wasn’t even angry anymore. What Drake had done was reckless and stupid, but Drake had never been a normal guy. The weight he’d carried with him since they’d met occasionally came into play, and he’d struggle with it forever. Tank couldn’t possibly understand what it meant to live with a secret like Drake’s, but he did realize that Drake needed his support in this, not anger. He already knew what he’d done had been a horrid mistake and he’d need to live with that for the rest of his life.
“Sure. He’s invincible,” Tank said, squeezing Drake’s hand.
Clover slouched even more. “I didn’t know, Tank. I didn’t know what we were up against. Kind of. But not really.”
Tank chewed on the inside of his cheek. “It’s not your fault. But you should have told me.”
“Exactly. It is my fault. You don’t need to cushion it for me. I did this. Agreed with Drake, went against your opinion, and talked Boar into going with us.” He sniffed, looking even frailer than when they first met.
Tank let go of Drake’s limp yet warm hand and squeezed his own fist, torn between letting Clover take on this burden and carrying some of it. “Each of us has some of the blame. I shouldn’t have dismissed Drake the way I did. I should have listened to him instead of being so final about it.”
Maybe if he’d been willing to talk this through with Drake in the first place, they wouldn’t be in this position. Maybe his heart wouldn’t have to break every time he saw Clover, the boy he’d promised to protect.
Clover went silent once more, but he reached for Tank’s hand and entwined their fingers. If only the option existed, Tank would have broken his own ribs and hidden Clover inside his chest, but there was no room for that sentiment. The mess they were in had partly been created because he’d been too protective of Clover.
His phone beeped, making his blood pressure rise. It was an alarm informing that a vehicle had entered the property. Clover knew that too, and his face went so pale Tank feared he was about to faint.
“Let’s see who it is.” Tank pulled his favorite gun out of the holster.
Clover grabbed his own, but wouldn’t leave Tank’s side and trembled like a leaf in the wind, as if nothing remained of the overconfident force of nature he’d always been.
Tank nodded, but he wasn’t certain if this change was for the better. The cost had been too great.
“Good. Stay behind. We need to protect Drake if it’s someone who shouldn’t be here,” Tank said, his feet skirting down the stairs as he took in the dark shadows of the woods surrounding their house. It was perfectly dark outside with the exception of the crescent moon reflecting in the lake.
He was used to danger, but confronting it in his own house was something he’d always tried to avoid at all cost.
With Clover staying behind, Tank walked across the first floor, facing the driveway, which started to light up as a vehicle approached the house.
“If push comes to shove, go to the panic room,” he whispered, overcome with the need to hold Clover in his arms, but there was no place for such sentimentality right now.
The vehicle parked, and the automatic light by the garage came on, revealing Drake’s van and Pyro behind the wheel. Tank lowered his gun in frustration, already heading for the door.
“Should I come too?” Clover asked in a tiny voice.
“It’s safe,” Tank said and opened the door, bursting outside as the ridiculous hope that Pyro had somehow, against all odds, found Boar, whispered at the back of his mind. But when Pyro all but fell out of the driver’s seat, tripping over his own feet, Tank’s shoulders slouched.
“I told you to alert us when you were coming!” Tank shook his head when he realized Pyro smelled like a whole basement filled with moonshine. “Very smart. Drunk driving. That will surely help find him.”
Pyro’s nose flared, and he swung his fist at Tank, but he was far too slow and fell over instead. How had he even managed to get here without crashing would remain a mystery.