Page 63 of Outlaws' Dirty Secret

Hellfire stands. “Because he’s a fucking lunatic! Because as soon as we verified his identity, we passed it on to Hamid Chafik and there’s a very good chance Tanner is pissing himself now and doing whatever the fuck he can to either survive, or take out as many people as he can on the way out.”

“You seriously think he would?—”

I don’t have the patience for this. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, but I seriously think I'm gonna break your fucking neck if you keep acting like a giant asshole.” I make fists as I take a step closer to him. If this fucker knows where Willow might be…

“Blackout, stand down,” growls Hellfire, only to grab Grimm by the shirt and get up in his face. “Now do you know where Tanner might be? Yes or fucking no?”

Grimm looks less belligerent and more unsure. “If that's what it takes to get you fuckers off his back, then fine.” He shoves off from Hellfire, tearing himself loose. “No promises. I haven’t seen him in a couple years.”

“That’s better than nothing. Let’s ride.” Skyhigh's already opening the door. We file out, and after a bitter glare at Hellfire, Grimm follows.

“Keep me informed.” Hellfire picks up his phone. “I'm gonna get feet on the ground and put out more patrols. If you need backup, the boys'll already be on their feet.”

I bounce two fingers off my head in a casual boy scout salute, and then we're out the door, heading for our bikes.

When we roar through the gate, Grimm leading the way, Hellfire's already got the bells sounding to alert the members.

Grimm takes us up onto the highway, riding it west, towards the ocean. Twenty minutes later, we clear the city limits, roaring through traffic like speed traps don't exist. But we're lucky today. Not a siren in sight by the time we pull off a few stops down from Chafik's estate. Pretty sure Tanner doesn't have that kinda money, though.

We wind through a couple back roads, then get into a neighborhood that's mostly trailers. Some are done up real nice, with white picket fences marking off their yards, and others look like the local drug den. The one Grimm pulls up to is somewhere in the middle. There’s no washing machine on the front lawn, but the grass is a foot high and the curtains look like bedsheets.

“This is where he lives?”

“Far as I know. I'll go first.”

Sounds good to me. If Tanner's trigger-happy, Grimm can deal with it.

He rings the doorbell. The faint buzz of it sounds through the door.

“Fuck, I just wanna break it down,” growls Skyhigh. “If Tanner's touched her, I'm gonna break his body one bone at a fucking time.”

Dragon growls, “Only if I don't get to him first.”

Grimm rings again, and again. No answer. Fuck this. I yank him outta the way, pull my piece and aim straight through the lock. One shot, and the door swings open. “Ding dong.”

“Well, hopefully we got the right house.” Skyhigh walks inside and starts looking around.

“That's his jacket.” Grimm points at a leather jacket with a couple of bike patches on it. “No club, but he still rides.”

“Alright, search the place. Every second that we don't have Willow is another second she's with that motherfucker.”

Skyhigh heads towards the back while Dragon and I split up and look around. I look out the back window. There’s a DIY garage tent out back, and when I go to check it out, I find a motorcycle parked on slabs of paving concrete. There’s two rows of them in the grass, spaced for car wheels, too, but no car. The grass in between is dead in a spot where he’s been leaking oil.

“Get the fuck in here!” Skyhigh calls from the house.

I run in to find him and Dragon in what should’ve been the biggest bedroom but instead looks like a fucking military surplus store.

“Fuck, this is some sweet hardware. What the hell is that doing at his house?” Skyhigh examines a crate of grenades. Some flash-bangs, like the one he hit us with, but others that look a hell of a lot more dangerous. “This guy opening his own arms warehouse? Where the fuck is he getting these from?”

Dragon opens a crate and finds it stacked with uzis. “He planning a fucking revolution?”

“Probably his retirement fund.” I look over my shoulder at Grimm. “Know anything about this?”

He shakes his head, frowning. “Doesn’t surprise me that he’s doing some work on the side, but this is a lot fancier than his usual gear. As far as I know, he’s been working security for the past few years. I don’t—” Grimm sighs. “I don’t ask. Hellfire might think I was close to Tanner, but it’s just because we’re family, and I don’t think I have to tell you boys that sometimes the family you’re born with is the weakest fucking link.”

Skyhigh hefts a pack of what looks like gray play dough. “C4. Might just be to sell, but he looks fucking primed to start a war. If he's got Willow, we gotta find him, fucking ASAP.” His hard voice doesn't betray his worry to anyone who doesn't know him like I do, but it's there. If Tanner gets between him and Willow, I pity the fucker. Hell, that goes for all three of us.

“Well, he's not here.” I nail Grimm to the fucking wall with my eyes. “Any other ideas? Even if you hate our fucking guts because of whatever shit happened in the past, he’s got an innocent girl with him. If that doesn’t mean anything to you, then it’s probably for the best that we’re not calling you brother.”

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