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.
Tank sat and watched. Not a whole lot of interesting shit happened. Men and women came and went. Kids played out inthe street, and at one point, he nearly had a fucking heart attack as some of those kids decided to play chicken with a car.
No one was hurt, and the driver didn’t cause a scene. Clearly someone who wasn’t supposed to be there.
It was getting hotter by the second. He tugged at his collar.
Tank was sweating his balls off, and he glanced down at his wrist to see he’d been sitting there waiting for nearly three fucking hours.
His guy still hadn’t shown. Would he ever? Maybe he’d had his fill of the whore he’d been banging.
Tank was starting to think whoever gave them the intel was wrong.
Then Tank’s thoughts returned to Bell. She had a right to be part of his life.
He’d tried to look into her mother that lived around here, but so far, he didn’t have a clue who the woman was. All he knew was she was a drunk who didn’t deserve such a great daughter.
Bell never talked about her. Never said her name. She always referred to her as Mom, but never gave her real name he could search up.
He had a feeling Bell was embarrassed by who her mother was, which made absolutely no sense to him. He’d never judge her. That was kind of their thing—accepting each other for who they were. She didn’t have to worry about her past.
It wasn’t like he had a squeaky-clean past himself. There was a lot of shit he didn’t want her to know about, but he knew there was going to come a point where she might find out.
His woman had a great deal of attitude, but there were always limits. What he didn’t want to do was push her to the breaking point.
Just when Tank thought he was done for the day and even stood as if to leave, he heard the unmistakable sound of femalelaughter.
Glancing across the street, he watched as the man he’d been waiting for stepped out with a woman.
She was a much older woman. Her hair was disheveled, and her laughter sounded hoarse like she’d been smoking more than half her life. The guy she was with looked … sinister. Tank was starting to wonder if the piece of shit was a ghost. It was a relief to finally have him in his sights.
Tank watched as the guy placed his hand directly over her face, and then shoved her back into the house. The woman fell with a cry. Tank wasn’t a patient man, and he didn’t like seeing him land a blow to the woman’s face.
Hands clenched at his sides, he had no choice but to wait.
The piece of shit got bored easily and stepped away from the house, slamming the door behind him.
Tank watched as he pulled on his leather cut, clearly showcasing that he was a Skull Nation prospect. The kids who’d been playing quickly ran away.
Tank didn’t want to follow him. He wanted to fucking gut him.
With a hand on his knife, he stepped out of the abandoned warehouse and slowly started to follow the fucker.
Tank watched the prospect walk with a swagger as if he owned the world. Anyone who saw him coming, immediately stepped out of his way.
Clearly, the hurt Tank had given him hadn’t been enough. Just another reason for him to be pissed off.
Moving closer to his target, he growled in frustration since he didn’t follow him on his bike. The little shit climbed onto his bike, which he’d left near the bridge on the opposite end of fucking town.