Page 6 of Tanner (Dirty Misfits MC 5)
I licked my lips. “You know when Dad practically disowned you for wanting to go into law enforcement?”
She scoffed. “How could I forget? It’s why I went to find you in Santa Barbara.”
I nodded mindlessly. “I think that department—and your clients—are very lucky to have you.”
She sighed. “I miss you so much. Is there anything I can do to convince you to come back?”
I smiled softly. “I really appreciate it, but this place is home, whether I like it or not. And I’m not stripping any longer, so you don’t have to worry about that, either.”
“Thank fuck.”
I picked myself up off the floor. “But should something happen with this new job, or even with Cheyenne, and we need a place to go? Trust me, we’ll be on your doorstep.”
“Good. As long as you know you guys are welcome here anytime, for as long as you’d like, then that’s enough for me.”
“I love you, Sloane.”
“I love you too, Summer.”
And as we said our goodbyes before hanging up the phone, the smallest part of me wondered about going back to Santa Barbara. Specifically, if going back would benefit Cheyenne more than being here. Because now that I had proof that not only was Tanner still in town, but that he still wanted nothing to do with me? I almost had no reason to stay.
In fact, I had no reason to stay at all.
And the thought of going back to Santa Barbara stuck with me for the rest of the damned day.
Three
Tanner
“Tanner, take it easy,” Brooks warned.
I gripped the man’s leather jacket and slammed my fist against his chin once more. He coughed up blood as one of his teeth clattered to the ground, but I cocked back for another blow. If I had to break him in order to break his little friends, I’d do what needed to be done.
I had to figure out how the fuck Chops found Summer.
“I don’t know. I don’t—know nothin’,” the bloodied man said through his wheezing.
I tossed him to the ground. “Time to move on, then.”
And when I reached for another one of the Black Flags we had taken captive, I cocked my leg back. Ready to sink my steel-toed boot into the man’s fucking crotch.
Only this time, the man sang like a fucking bird.
“Okay, okay, okay!” the man squeaked out. “I know how Chops found her.”
“Stop,” the bloodied man growled, “he’ll kill us if we talk.”
I chuckled. “Trust me, you’re already dead.”
The room fell silent before my little bird sang me a ballad again. “The tattoo. Chops kept saying she had some sort of tattoo, so we kept an eye out for any girls with tattoos. Then, it was just a matter of figuring out where those girls went to high school. Whether they knew you or not. It was just a coincidence that we started with the girls at the club. I mean, they were already there, so why not?”
I pulled him up to my face. “It’s still a needle in a damn haystack. What did he do?”
The man sighed and closed his eyes. “He had one of our guys who’s more tech efficient to do some research on you. He figured out what high school you went to, and it opened up a wealth of information. He had her tracked down within days.”
I tossed the man to the ground. “Fuck!”
“That’s not all, though,” the man said breathlessly.
I walked toward the warehouse door. “Don’t worry, I’m not as stupid as I look.”
“Well, act like the rest of us are, then,” Porter called out to me.
I peered over my shoulder, my hand resting on the doorknob. “They tracked Summer down while she was working for them at the club. That means they have her employee records.”
“Fuck,” Porter murmured.
I ripped the door open. “Exactly.”
“Wh-wh-wh-wh—when are you gonna kill us?” the bloodied man stammered out.
Brooks chuckled as he turned his back to them. “Once you’re done being of use to us. That’s when.”
And as the three of us left our abandoned warehouse by the sea, we hopped on our bikes and sped back toward the clubhouse.
But I had a mounting urge to track down Summer’s address so I could go talk to her and make sure she was safe.
When we got back to the clubhouse, the rest of the guys were sitting out on the porch. We parked our bikes and had beers tossed into our hands as we walked and picked out a rocking chair to sit our asses in. As we lined the back porch, gazing out over the ocean that lapped at the cliffside our clubhouse sat on, I cracked my beer open and chugged it back. One, after another, after another.
I let the burn pull me from the anger of my soul before I let the cool ocean breeze sober me right back up.
