Tanner Tanner (Dirty Misfits MC #5) - Savannah Rylan Page 0,1

know he’s got a damn good point! But the issue is that this fucking crew is one step ahead of us all the damn time because I’m stuck with a bunch of assholes that don’t ever talk about themselves! Or their lives!”

I knew why Brooks was frustrated, but at that moment I didn’t care. I stormed out of the room and headed for the front door, ignoring all calls to the contrary. Porter yelled at me not to leave and Finn physically tried to stop me. Even Brooks threatened to take my leather cut away if I walked out that door.

I didn’t give a shit, though.

Because if my child was out there—scared, alone, and confused—then I had a duty as a father to go get them.

Well, her.

Jesus fuck, I’ve got a daughter.

“Tanner, would you just fucking wait up a second!” Archer yelled.

I threw my leg over my bike and peered over my shoulder. “What?”

He panted for air as he rushed up to my side. “Look, everyone is on edge right now and we’re all pissed. And you know Brooks is only mad at himself because there’s a child that needs protecting and none of us knew about it.”

“Yeah, then how do you think I feel?”

He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. “You have to come back into the clubhouse.”

I shrugged him off. “No, I have to go find Summer and my child.”

“You know you can’t do that alone. We don’t even know where the fuck those assholes are right now.”

“Well, I have to do something!” I bellowed.

“Then, come inside and talk to us,” Porter called out from the porch.

I felt helpless and weak. It felt like a raw nerve had been exposed to the elements. Every lick of wind against my face pierced me to my core. Every thump of my rapidly beating heart rattled my bones. My body hurt. I hadn’t slept well in weeks. My diet was shit, I chugged way too much caffeine in the mornings, and I was lucky if I had the energy to go out and have any sort of fun.

But the thought of finding Summer and our child filled me with a renewed sense of vigor.

So, I slid off my bike and made my way back inside.

“Now that that’s over,” Brooks said as he closed the front door, “time to do some talking.”

Porter glared at him before clearing his throat. “What he means is, is there anyone at all you’ve talked to about Summer?”

I shook my head. “No. No one. It’s...kind of a chapter in my past I sort of left there intentionally.”

“Why? Because you’re the one who fucked it up?” Archer asked.

I pinned him with a look before I sighed. “Seriously, there’s no one. I haven’t so much as uttered her name since high school.”

Brooks walked up to me. “Then, have you told anyone about your high school sweetheart? How much you cared for her? Even if you didn’t mention her name?”

It took a lot of soul-searching and digging back into the recesses of my mind. But then, it clicked and memories flooded my mind, my vision suddenly dripping with red.

“That fucking son of a bitch,” I growled.

“Who?” Porter asked.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Fucking Chops, god damn it!”

I whirled around and punched the wall behind me, sending my fist shredding and tearing through the drywall. I ripped my fist out and punched it again, creating a bigger hole before I cocked it back one last time. And as the frustration drained from my body, someone caught my bloodied fist in their grasp and stopped me from wreaking anymore havoc.

And when I looked over at Cole, he led me to the couch.

“Someone get my bag. It’s in the corner by the front door,” he murmured.

Finn got it and dropped it beside him before he cleaned me up. And as I sat there, wondering when this nightmare was going to end, my lips started flapping.

“Remember Chops’ party? When we swore him in as our president?” I asked.

Brooks barked with laughter. “The party Porter told me about where Cole got so drunk he shat himself and passed out?”

Cole rolled his eyes. “Fantastic.”

Porter tilted his head off to the side. “And you had a very long conversation with Chops that night, didn’t you?”

I closed my eyes. “Right there at the kitchen table. We were taking shots and chugging back beers, and he started talking to me about how he never understood men who let women get away