“Baby, even with what just happened, you still haven’t even seen a fraction of my tricks. Why don’t you learn all those first before you worry about the pole?”
He grins and presses his lips to my forehead. “I can’t fucking wait.”
Chapter Twelve
Travis
“Come on, you son of a bitch,” I hiss, gritting my teeth as my fingers fly across my keyboard and I lean in closer to the monitor like it’s going to somehow help me crack this whole thing wide open. “Fucking show me something.”
I’ve been up here all goddamn day, digging into every aspect of Warren Ehlye’s life only to hit dead end after dead end and my patience is gone at this point, fucking non-existent. Hours ago, I thought, maybe, I had finally found something when I stumbled across a bank account in Warren’s name but after further digging, I realized he only uses the damn thing to pull money out of ATMs so it’s not like I can even track his fucking spending. In the end, it was zero help. When I hit another dead end, I ball my fists up with a yell, resigning the urge to fling the keyboard across the room, and fall back into my chair.
Fuck, I need a break.
Just one goddamn break.
Oh, and also, fuck this sadistic asshole and his stupid fucking mind games.
God, I want to put my fist through a wall.
Turning to look out of the window, I blow out a breath and try to calm myself down as I unclench my shaking hands and lay them flat against my thighs. There is a pounding in my ears and lights flash in my vision as memories bombard me.
Of course.
As if this wasn’t hard enough on me already but now Warren’s little game is reminding me of shit I’ve worked too fucking hard to keep buried.
I’m sure that’s what he wants, though.
He wants me to lose control.
“Breathe, asshole,” I whisper to myself, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath through my nose as I attempt to push the memories away. “Think of something happy.”
Rowan’s face pops into my mind and I smile as I feel some of the tension seep out of me. I focus on her, remembering the little show she put on for me last night and how fucking sexy she looked before my mind drifts to the day before that when she kissed me as I was spiraling out of control. I don’t know what it is about her but she calms everything and makes me feel like it’s not an impossible task to find this jackass. Opening my eyes, I release a breath and look at the screen, my mind clearer than a moment ago. When I searched for other properties in Warren’s name, there were none which means he’s got to be renting something. The problem is that it’s not hard to find a landlord that will let you pay in cash and there is no way to track it if you want to stay off the radar, which he clearly does. His bank account flickers through my mind and I remember a charge of four hundred dollars on the first of every month from an ATM and I turn back to the computer. Maybe if I look up the address of the ATM he pulled the money from each month, I could find out the general area he’s living in.
Yeah, the smart thing for him to do would be to pull cash away from home but then that would leave a radius where he never gets cash which would also give away his location. Warren has proven how smart he is in the past though, so he is probably pulling cash out all over the city, changing when and where he does it so it can’t be tracked by me. Honestly, I’m not expecting to find anything because he would never be this careless but I still have to check. Just like I thought, his ATM transactions are completely sporadic and they don’t give me a clue as to where he’s staying. Leaning back in my chair, I stare at the screen as I try to come up with another way to track him.
“Four hundred dollars,” I mutter, shaking my head as I lean forward again. It’s not a lot to live on so he’s either renting an absolute shit hole or he has roommates.
Holy fuck… what if he has a partner?
I haven’t been able to find any evidence to suggest that it’s true but he hasn’t been above using other people to do his dirty work in the past so it’s possible. Jesus, it makes perfect sense. That’s why we can’t track him or get anywhere on this case because not only is he probably using an alias but he has someone he’s working with, someone that can do things like own property or rent cars. Fuck me. He’s buried under so many layers that I don’t stand a chance. Warren is a fucking ghost and that is exactly the way he wants it. It gives him all the freedom he needs to tear this club apart one little piece at a time but who in the fuck would agree to partner with him?
Someone who hates us as much as he does?
Someone he manipulated?
Fuck, I don’t even know where to start and there are just too many possibilities to figure it out. It frustrates me more than anything else. I like having the answer. I like being the guy that my brothers can call on when they need help but, in this, I’m fucking useless. And my uselessness is going to get someone I care about hurt… or worse. Turning to look at the door to my room, I think about everyone that is in this clubhouse right now and how much they mean to me. It’s more than they even realize. When I joined this club, I was so fucking lost and angry but they gave me a purpose and a family when I thought I would never have either. Losing them, any of them… it would kill me.
My phone rings on the desk, snapping me out of my thoughts and I shake my head as I scoop it up and glance down at the screen as Storm’s name stares back at me.
“Hey, what’s up?” I answer and he sighs.
“Man, we’ve been sitting on the damn cabin for three fucking days and there is nothing.”
I nod. When Blaze told them to sit on the cabin and watch for Warren, I told him it was stupid but no one listened to me. “Yeah, I figured. It was clear by the shit he left on the walls for us that he was done with the place.”
“I suppose you’re right. How’s shit there?”
“Fine, I think,” I answer with a shrug. Honestly, I don’t have a fucking clue since I haven’t ventured out of my room much today. “The girls are all in your room getting ready for Piper’s bachelorette party.”
He sighs. “Fuck me. I forgot about that shit…. Well, we’re on our way back now.”
“Okay. We’ll be here.”
“Hey, make sure my wife isn’t wearing anything too short… or too low cut… or fucking backless,” he growls and I laugh, shaking my head.
“Fuck no, dude. I am not going into the middle of that war zone and telling your old lady what she can or can’t wear. If she didn’t kill me, Tate definitely would.”
He scoffs. “Pussy.”
“Asshole.”
“You planning on packing tonight? Just in case?” he asks and I glance up at the sign on the wall that doubles as a gun safe. I usually don’t have a reason to carry but there is no way in hell I’m letting us all go out without bringing my piece along.
“Yeah. I think we all are.”
“Well,” he mutters. “I guess it will be interesting. See y’all soon.”
After we say good-bye, I set my phone back down on the desk and lean back in my chair as I scrub a hand over my face. Honestly, going out tonight is a terrible fucking idea, like we’re waving a red flag at an angry bull, but it also feels like exactly what I need. I’m so goddamn stressed out by all of this and I deserve a few hours to let loose, a few hours to not think about Warren and his plan for us.