Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
He took her hand again, walking them toward his bike. “It means wife. It means commitment and forever. They’ll change their tune when I tell them that.”
“Is that what this is? I thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend,” she said.
“Bell, I’m never letting you go.”
Chapter Nine
Tank had every opportunity to immediately tell the brothers about what was going on with him and Bell. But he didn’t.
Why?
Each time he was alone with Lord, they were dealing with possible Skull Nation sightings, and there never seemed to be an appropriate time or opportunity.
They still saw the worst in Bell.
Tank knew differently.
Of course, Bell had been asking what the guys thought. She had even offered to make them something to help them see sense. Each time she brought it up, he silenced her with kisses, which nearly always led to some fucking.
He loved being inside her. He loved everything about Bell.
“Any news on that prospect?” Lord asked.
Each day, Tank spent most of his time where that prospect should have been. So far, he hadn’t been able to find him or locate the bike. He’d also spent time with Bell, keeping an eye on her.
From what he could tell, her mother wouldn’t take no for an answer. All the woman was doing was calling at this point, but from conversations with Bell, she had a feeling her mother was going to come to visit soon.
He didn’t like that.
Bell always got tense when she talked about her mother. She rarely spoke of her childhood, and it was like she accepted that shit things happened to her, which again, he couldn’t stand.
Bell deserved more than a bullshit life, and he was going to make sure she had a great one. He was determined. First, he needed to tell Lord and the brothers. They needed to trust her, to accept her into the fold.
Fucking Skull Nation, they always found a way to mess shit up.
“None. I’m heading back over there. He’ll show eventually. We all know that dicks need to be sucked.”
Lord sat back, throwing his pen on the desk. “That we do know, but I don’t know if I want you to intervene.”
Tank frowned. “What do you want me to do?”
Lord clicked his tongue and shook his head, clearly having a lot of thoughts all scrambling around each other.
“I’ve been thinking, the Skull Nation, they’re not gone. We have random fucking sightings in places that don’t make sense. They’re turning into ghosts.”
“They’re club is nearly gone, Lord.”
“But what if it’s not? What if they’re … around in plain sight?” Lord asked.
Tank stood and moved closer to the desk. Random pictures that had been taken, a few notes scribbled down on little labels. There was nothing concrete when it came to the Skull Nation.
He had to admit, Skull Nation had never been too bright. They always fucked up.
“You think they’re not wearing leather cuts?”
“They know we’re after them, right?” Lord said. “What better way to throw the enemy off than to not even be able to recognize them?”
“We’ve got to shut the club down,” Tank said. “They could be coming in and out as prospects, or civilians loving to party.”
“Call church. I want all the guys here now, and for the last two weeks, get our security footage. I want to make sure we haven’t been gracious hosts to our fucking enemies. I want the bitches that have been bringing other dicks here. I want it all,” Lord said.
“What do you want me to do about the prospect?” Tank asked.
“Shit!” Lord stood, running fingers through his hair. “You already know my suspicions now. Go and keep watch, but this time, I don’t want you to approach.”
“You don’t?”
“No, I want you to follow him. You tale his ass, and you find out where he’s going. You’re going to have to do it discreetly,” Lord said and held out his hand. “No leather cut.”
Tank didn’t like that.
His leather cut was part of him. It was his identity for as long as he could remember. He’d nearly died for the club on more than one occasion. Gritting his teeth, he removed his leather cut and handed it to Lord, who moved to the edge of the office wall and hung it up.
“Round up the boys and then get gone,” Lord said.
Tank did exactly that.
No one argued as he told them Lord wanted a church meeting.
Leaving was hard though. He made his way out to his bike, straddled his machine, and took off, going straight to the location he’d been given at the beginning of the week.
He’d never known Skull Nation to be patient.
Across from the apartment blocks where his target was supposed to be, Tank walked into an old, abandoned warehouse. It made no sense where it was situated, but it cast a shadow on the houses opposite.
Tank pulled one of the stools he’d been sitting on and lowered himself down. He had the perfect vantage point. He wasn’t too far away, nor was he in plain sight. Neither was his bike.