Free Long Ride The Slayers MC #3) by Tara Oakes Page A

dealers, looking for this girl.
    “What do I do when I find her? Bring her back here?” Gryff slides the photo into the inner pocket of his cut.
    I’m busy throwing back the shot of whiskey in my glass to speak, so I wave my hand no. “Fuck no! Every time that chick came around, it would put Angel and her ma through the ringer. She don’t need that right now. Just find her, put her up in a motel for a couple of days until the lawyer works up the papers and then we’ll have her sign them and be on her merry little way back to whatever flea bag place she’s been holed up in.”
    I pour Gryff a shot and offer it to him.
    “What if she wants a little… incentive . You lookin’ to bargain here or am I scaring the shit outta her to make her sign?” He asks bluntly.
    I don’t know this chick from a hole in the wall, other than the stories Angel and Lillian have fed me. They don’t paint Tina in a very good light, although I haven’t really seen any junkie look good when their family talks about them, so I take it all with a grain of salt. But, from what I’ve heard, Tina’s addictions are bad enough to cause her to lie and steal from people who don’t have enough to spare. A person looking to score cash for drugs that badly would most definitely look to get some type of compensation anywhere they can.
    Even for signing away rights to their kid.
    “Feel her out. If she’s looking for cash, if that’ll get this done quick, then I’m willing to pay. I’m gonna hold out hope that she’s not too far gone where she’d look to sell her kid, and, instead, would want to do the right thing for Sasha’s sake alone, but I’m prepared to be wrong.” I’ve learned never to underestimate a drug user and never to have too much faith that people will do the right thing for the sake of their own conscience.
    Deep down, we’re all flawed and fucked up. Some more than others.
    Let’s find out where Tina falls on that line and take it from there.
    “No prob, boss. Give me a couple ‘a days and I’ll find her. But, you know, I think this should count for something,” he throws at me.
    One of the reasons Gryff got his road name is because he’s a conman, a grifter. He can talk a nun outta donating her panties to save the blind if he wanted to. I’m not surprised he’s lookin’ to benefit from this somehow.
    “Oh?” I ask, amused. “And what should it count for?”
    He steeples his fingers together like a mad scientist and I can’t help but laugh. I’ll bet he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
    We’re the only ones sitting at this end of the bar, but he looks around anyway as if someone could be eavesdropping. It’s early enough in the night where the place hasn’t begun to fill, as the best dancers don’t take the stage until later.
    With Angel knocked up, I’ve had to hire some new girl to work the bar, but even she’s at least ten feet away pouring some brews for customers.
    Just to be safe, Gryff, leans forward as if he’s telling me a secret. “If I do this for you and make sure Angel knows nothin’ about it, then I want Uno in the dunk tank at the carnival this year.”
    I nearly spray out the whiskey in my mouth.
    We haven’t drawn straws yet to pick the person who’ll be dunked over and over all day in the tank.
    “I’m gonna dunk the motherfucker myself and see how he likes it this time.” Gryff plots his revenge.
    Thinking back, I can’t remember the last time Uno was in the tank. It was Gryff last year, Shooter before that, Hops, me, Stitch…
    You know what?
    Come to think of it, I’m not sure Uno’s ever even been in the tank. Fair is fair, and every Slayer needs to serve his time in there for a good cause.
    “Deal,” I agree. “Uno’s in the tank this year.”
     
    ~*~
     
    “Take it off!” A clean cut man that’s clearly drunk off his ass calls to the stage where Candy is busy straddling the pole and pretending to lick it.
    That’s the second time this prick has called