I grin. He’s probably uncomfortable because he was greeted by my security team when he arrived. My very big and scary security team. Tank recommended his old employer, Alexander Security, and they’ve been great. Professional but completely unobtrusive. I only notice them when I need them which luckily isn’t often.

Our circular drive is filled with cars so I walk directly across the grass to the end of the lawn. Our mailbox is double-sided and mounted into the security gate. I pull it open and then pick up the stack of letters inside. Something flutters out and lands at my feet. It’s a feather.

I stoop and pick it up. It’s a deep red color and large in size. It looks much too large to belong to any of the birds I’ve seen in the area.

A chill runs up my spine.

“You’re a crazy old bird, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. I always thought of myself as a phoenix. A fighter that rises from the ashes of its own demise.”

I glance behind me at the mailbox and then around the expansive yard. Our drive is bordered by trees and the summer sun overhead beats down mercilessly, making me grateful for the shade. Maybe I should feel worried being out in the open but I’m not. Instead I’m comforted. I rub the feather between my fingers.

“Rise, Max. Rise. And be at peace.”

I must have been standing here longer than I thought because when I look up next I see Seven walking down the drive toward me, her long black hair whipping behind her in the breeze. She waves her hand at me.

“Babe, I thought you got kidnapped out here. I was about to send out the hounds to protect you.”

She looks down affectionately at the two puppies gamboling around her feet. Loki falls over a stick and then whips around to attack it. Uninterested in his brother’s drama, Anakin races over to me and then flops his bottom directly on top of my shoe. His large tongue lolls out of the side of his mouth, a look of complete doggy happiness on his face.

“Yeah, they’re really scary.”

She bends down and scratches Loki under his chin. “Don’t listen to Daddy. You’re a big, scary hound.”

I pick up Anakin and we walk back up the driveway, my mind still reeling from my discovery.

“You’re so quiet. Everything okay?” She looks over at me and she’s so damn beautiful it almost breaks my heart. Beautiful and all mine.

“Yeah. Everything is perfect now.”

That’s when she spies the red feather in my hand. She stretches out her hand to touch it, trailing a finger over the length. “Pretty. Where’d you find that?”

I gesture over my shoulder.

“In the mailbox?” she asks in disbelief. “Like a bird crawled in there just to leave this for us? That’s so strange.”

I tuck the feather into my back pocket for safekeeping. “Crazy old birds do strange things sometimes.”

Then I follow the love of my life back inside the home we’ve made together and toward a future that suddenly seems brighter than ever.

You just finished reading the fifth book in the USA TODAY bestselling Blue-Collar Billionaires series. If you missed TANK’s story, stay tuned for an excerpt after this.

Author’s Note

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Years ago, Tank Marshall swore off fighting. He exercises iron control to keep his anger in check. But his mother was just diagnosed with cancer and the deadbeat dad he hasn’t seen in years is back demanding airtime. Worst of all, a billion dollar inheritance hangs in the balance if he doesn’t do what his father wants.

There’s only one person that keeps him anchored in the midst of the chaos. One person untouched by violence and money and lies. Emma Shaw. But the one thing that Tank hasn’t learned yet is that when billions are at stake, there’s no such thing as innocent.

Money. Changes. Everything.

Buy TANK now

EXCERPT of TANK

© MAY 2014 M. Malone

T ANK

Darkness hasn’t always been my friend. There was a time when I would have been at home asleep in my bed in the middle of the night. Instead I’m prowling the streets, restless and edgy, looking for an outlet for the anger roiling inside.

I glance to my left and right. I’m standing in an alcove that’s slightly hidden off the street. It’s easier this way. People tend to get nervous if I just hang out. No one stares outright. But there's always a tell. A glance. A step to the side when we pass so our bodies don't touch.  Everyone has a “look” about them and mine apparently says trained killer.

A group of people spill out of the bar across the street, music and the sound of their voices carrying to where I stand in the shadows. This part of Virginia Beach is a mecca for local college kids looking to blow off steam on the weekends so I rarely have to go looking for trouble.

Trouble usually finds me.

I see the girl first. She has taken her shoes off and is walking barefoot on the concrete. She’s beautiful and dressed to score in a short black minidress that shows off long, tanned legs. It doesn’t take long for one of the guys in front of the bar to break off from his friends and follow her. I push away from the wall and follow them at a discreet distance. He hooks an arm around her neck. She looks up at him in confusion but grins blearily. He smiles back, with an expression like he just hit the lottery. My blood pressure spikes a notch.

Oh yes. Trouble you miserable bastard, you always find me.

I step out into the road to cross to their side of the street, pulling the hood of my jacket up and over my face.

A horn blares and a taxi screeches to a halt a few inches from me. The driver’s side door opens and the cabbie steps out. “What the hell! Look where you’re going!”

I glance at him and then back to the couple. Oblivious, they turn down a side street and out of sight. If I wait any longer, I’ll lose them. I haven’t slept in forty-eight hours and if I don’t make sure the girl is all right, then I won’t be able to sleep again tonight. Knowing, seeing, is the only thing that gives me some peace. I run across the street, leaving the cab driver gesturing and cursing behind me. By the time I turn the corner, the street is dark. Empty. Then I hear it.

Crying.

He has the girl pressed up against the wall behind a dumpster. She’s struggling, pushing at his shoulders while he’s working the dress up her legs. He has his other hand over her mouth. Her stiletto shoes are a few feet away from me, abandoned.

That’s all it takes for my veins to turn to ice. This is what happens to me right before. It’s like a red haze that settles over me, blanketing me with the righteous fury necessary to do what needs to be done.