Tank shifts slightly, positioning himself half a step in front of us, but not completely blocking our view. It's a protective stance but not possessive, a distinction that doesn't escape my notice.
"Lilly!" Dylan calls out, his voice carrying that forced cheerfulness that makes my skin crawl. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
He slows as he approaches, finally registering Tank's presence. The hesitation is brief but telling. A predator recognizing a larger threat.
"Who's your friend?" he asks, eyes narrowing as he takes in Tank's cut and patches.
Before Lilly can answer, I step forward. "This is Tank, Lilly's brother. He's visiting for a few days."
I don't miss the way Dylan's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. Good. Let him be nervous.
"Brother?" Dylan recovers quickly, extending his hand. "Great to meet you, man. I'm Dylan Thomas, Lilly's boyfriend."
"Ex-boyfriend," Lilly says firmly. "We broke up three months ago, Dylan."
Tank doesn't take the offered hand. His face remains impassive as he stares Dylan down, saying nothing. I've never seen silence used as a weapon before, but Tank wields it masterfully. Dylan's hand eventually drops, his confident façade cracking slightly.
"Right, well, we're just taking a break," Dylan says with a forced laugh. "Working through some things."
"No, we're not," Lilly counters, her voice stronger with her brother beside her. "I've told you repeatedly it's over."
Dylan's eyes harden for a split second before the mask slips back into place. "Baby, you're confused. We belong together." He steps forward, reaching for her arm.
Tank moves so fast I barely register it. Suddenly he's between them, Dylan's wrist caught in his massive hand before it can touch Lilly.
"She said no," Tank says, his voice deceptively quiet. "Where I come from, that means something."
The nearby fairgoers sense the tension and give our little group a wider berth. The sounds of the carnival continue around us—the calliope music, children laughing, barkers calling out to play games—but it all seems to fade into background noise as these two men square off.
"Look, I don't know what Lilly's told you," Dylan starts, trying to pull his wrist free. Tank releases him with such suddenness that Dylan stumbles back. "But we had a misunderstanding. I love your sister."
"Love doesn't slash tires," I interject, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. "Love doesn't break into someone's home. And love definitely doesn't leave dead roses on pillows."
Dylan's face darkens. "You should stay out of this, Katty. You've been poisoning her against me from the beginning."
"No, I've been witnessing what you've been doing to her," I counter. "There's a difference."
I feel Tank's gaze shift to me briefly, assessing. I've been dealing with Dylan's bullshit for months, standing beside Lilly when the sheriff dismissed her concerns, when the locksmith came to change her locks, when she cried herself to sleep on my couch. I'm done being polite about it.
"You bought a gun, Dylan," Lilly says, her voice trembling slightly. "Why would you do that if you love me?"
Dylan's expression changes, becomes almost boyish. "For protection, baby. This county's getting dangerous. I want to keep you safe."
"Safe from what?" Tank asks, his voice rumbling like distant thunder.
"You know, just... things happen." Dylan shifts uncomfortably. "Anyway, Lilly, I came to invite you to the fireworks tonight. They're setting up by the lake. Remember last year? How perfect it was?"
The manipulation is so transparent it makes me want to scream. Last year at the fair, they had just started dating. Before the control issues emerged. Before the stalking began.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," Lilly states firmly. "Not tonight, not ever."
Dylan's face twists for a moment before he controls it. "You're making a scene, Lil. Let's talk privately."
"No," I say at the same time Tank says, "Not happening."
Dylan finally seems to realize the situation isn't going his way. His eyes meet mine, and the hatred there sends a chill through me. Then he looks at Tank, sizing him up with a newfound calculation.
"Fine," he says eventually, hands raised in mock surrender. "I get it. Bad timing with your... brother in town." He manages to make the word sound like a question. "I'll catch you later, Lilly. When you're not surrounded by your guard dogs."
