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CHAPTER TEN

DAKOTA

After finding the box of letters, I decide that I don’t want to look around anymore. That was my allotment of tears for the day, and I’m afraid I’ll just uncover more things to cry about, so instead of staying and poking around some more, I gather my box of letters and head back to the motel.

The girl from the other night is behind the counter. She lifts her eyes and looks across the parking lot at me, no doubt noticing me staring at her. She still seems really pissed off in general.

Ignoring her, I turn back to my car and reach into the back seat, taking the box with me upstairs to my room. After walking inside, I lock the door behind me, then place the box on the little table before I make my way into the bathroom, where I decide to strip off my clothes and take a shower.

I need to wash the feeling of Bullet from my body. I’m still angry as hell at him. I know I’ll probably be forced to see him, especially if I go to that party I was invited to, but that doesn’t mean I want to see him again, because I really do not.

Once I’m thoroughly washed and dried, I put on a pair of sleep shorts and tank top, then comb out my wet hair. Shifting my gaze to the reflection in the mirror, I take in my freshly washed face, my wet hair, and my eyes.

I focus on my eyes.

I’m not sure what I’m searching for, but I don’t find it anywhere in my reflection. With a heavy sigh, I turn the bathroom light off, then open the door and step into the bedroom. Something causes my spine to straighten the moment my feet sink into the carpet of the motel room floor.

When I lift my gaze to the bed in the middle of the room, I realize what caused my spine to straighten. There is a man sitting in the middle of my bed, his back leaning against the headboard, his entire body stretched out, and his boots crossed at the ankles.

He’s hot as shit.

But the sight of him doesn’t scare me. Instead, it sends me into a blind rage. What the actual fuck? Glancing over to the door, I frown at the sight of the still-closed and locked door.

“Know the girl at the counter,” Bullet announces, no doubt noticing the way I’m staring at the door in complete confusion.

Shifting my attention back to his, I cross my arms over my chest, trying to hide the fact that I’m not wearing a bra as I wait for him to explain to me exactly what the fuck he’s doing here. I watch as he slides his tongue along his bottom lip. Unfortunately, it’s hot as hell, so I’m forced to clench my thighs together at the sight.

My betraying body is starting to take over my brain… again. As much as I try to fight it, I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to, not with both of us in this room… with a bed—alone. We didn’t do it in a bed last time, and now I’m thinking of all the fun ways for him to do me in that bed, ways that I can’t even imagine properly because I don’t know enough about sex.

God .

I hate myself instantly.

As if he doesn’t even recognize my internal struggles, he continues speaking. “Need to have a conversation about a few things with you before you show up for lunch and meet everyone.”

My head snaps up and my eyes meet his. Parting my lips, I can’t help but wonder how the hell he knew that I was invited to said meeting, lunch, whatever it’s called, with the rest of the crew. He chuckles, and his gaze dances before he continues. As if he knows exactly what he does to me.

Which he probably does. It’s not like I hid the way I wanted him, the way he made me feel. I couldn’t even if I tried. Not earlier today and especially not after I’ve had him inside of me. I want it again. My brain knows it’s bad, but my body is stupid as hell because I want him so badly that I can’t even see straight.

“Why are you here?” I ask, my voice coming out barely above a whisper—traitor voice.

“Need to talk to you,” he states, then dips his chin toward the end of the bed.

I almost laugh at his suggestion for me to sit anywhere on that bed with him. There is no way I can do that and not touch him, not feel him, not kiss him. At the very least, I won’t be able to concentrate on anything he’s saying.

Instead of laughing or sitting on the bed, I walk over to the little table and chairs where the box is resting on the tabletop, tug a chair out, face it toward the bed, and slowly sink down. I don’t cross my legs even though I’m itching to. Instead, I keep my arms crossed over my chest and watch him.

“Talk,” I state.

I’m trying really hard to stay pissed off at him while wanting him inside of me all at the same time. I’m not sure how well it’s working, especially since he is smirking at me like he can read my whole mind, every dirty detail of it.

BULLET

I try not to point out the fact that I know she wants to ride my cock. But it’s really hard not to say something when she’s looking at me from across the room, her nipples hard beneath her tank and her thighs clenched together, no doubt because her pussy is aching for me.

“One of our guys, Piggy, did a little digging into your cult,” I begin. “Seems it’s not just about helping one another, peace, love, and fucking.”

To her credit, Dakota’s brows snap together, and what I can only describe as confusion washes over her face. I give her a moment to think about what I’ve just said, but her expression doesn’t change. It’s clear she has no goddamn clue what I’m talking about, and if she’s acting, she needs to go to Hollywood right fucking now because she’s that good.

“I’m not sure what you’re saying. I mean, they had to have a business of some kind because I worked in the office filing papers.”

I snort. “Yeah, well, they were in the business of skin,” I mutter. “Young skin.”

She shakes her head, her lips parting before she snaps them closed again, then reopens them before she speaks. “I don’t understand.”

“There a lot of young girls around there, babe? More than young men?”

Her eyes search my face, but I don’t think she’s really seeing me. She’s thinking, cataloging every woman part of that sick and twisted man and his following. She’s thinking of every single woman there, and then her eyes meet mine.

“There were a lot of women there, but they all seemed to want to be there,” she whispers. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I shift so that I’m sitting on the edge, my feet on the floor. Resting my elbows on my thighs, I turn my head until my eyes find hers and hold them for a moment before I speak.

“I’m telling you that he’s been taking young girls and turning them out.”

Her confused expression doesn’t change as she continues to stare at me. “Prostitutes, babe. Although I don’t think you can refer to turning out a kid as prostitution. I think it’s just trafficking.”

“Kids?” she asks.

“You one of them? Wouldn’t think less of you if you were,” I murmur.

Her eyes widen, and her hand flies to her mouth. She shakes her head from side to side. Then she stands and rushes away from me toward the bathroom. That’s when I hear it. She pukes. A better man would go and hold her hair or some shit, but I’m not that.

I hear the toilet flush, then the water run, and what sounds like a toothbrush. Then she spits and walks back into the room. Her eyes are watery, and her face is flushed. She shakes her head, finally finding her voice as she speaks.

“I wouldn’t imagine that you could possibly think less of me anyway, but no, I wasn’t one of them. I was a virgin when I left Willamette Haven.”

Hearing that she was a virgin when she left that shithole should not make my cock twitch, but it does. My lips twitch, too, but I clear my throat and attempt to go back to being serious. And stop thinking about her virginity.

“Okay, well, what about the others? Were there a lot of young women?”

She presses her lips together. I don’t know if she’s thinking back or trying to decide how much she wants to truly tell me. Maybe she’s in denial because this is taking a hell of a lot longer to go over than I imagined.

“I didn’t necessarily see hundreds of girls, but there were always more women than men. I thought that was normal.”

I have a feeling that the asshole in charge kept his personal life and business separate. Which shouldn’t surprise me, but I didn’t think he was that smart. I figured they all lived together and had orgies every night with these girls. It seems as though we may have to do a bit more recon than I anticipated.

Good news is we know some seriously amazing security companies that have the best goddamn equipment that fall off a truck. My truck. And I’m not afraid of a little work, especially when it comes to taking down the scum of the fucking earth.

And this guy is scum.

Whole otherworldly fucking scum.

“I knew everyone by name, Bullet, and I don’t think any of them were there by force, but there were a lot of papers that I filed in the office. A lot. And they all had names on them. Men’s names, women’s names, and there were receipts. But I didn’t know what it was all for, and I was a teenager. I don’t remember everything.”

I open my mouth and start to say something, but she continues, so I slam my lips closed and listen for once. I don’t just sit back and listen very often, but I’m trying to get to the bottom of this shit. So that’s what I do. Dakota lifts her hand to her damp hair and combs her fingers through before she speaks.

“He had my birth certificate in one of those file folders. I never understood why. I never looked for any others, but now I wonder who else he had on file and what he was using them for or keeping them for.”

“He ever touch you?” I ask.

I have to know. I tell myself that it’s because I need to know everything this asshole was capable of, but that’s not it at all. I need to know if this shit with him is going to be personal because this bitch is about to be mine.

All mine.

“No,” Dakota exhales. “My mother tried to get me to hook up with some of the others when I got older. Never the leader, though. I didn’t do anything with any of them. There was never a desire, and honestly, I was raised with them as uncles, so it all felt weird to me. After she died, the whole commune started to pressure me, and that’s when I left and went to Briana’s.”

“I’d like to say that it’s going to help his case, but it’s not. That fucker is still going to have a long and painful death once I get to the bottom of all this.”

“Why?” she asks.

I’m not sure that the words I’ve just said have actually registered. The fact that I’m going to kill that fucker, and enjoy it, but instead of pointing that out and going into detail, I continue.

“Why?”

I watch as she chews on her bottom lip. She looks up at me through her lashes. Goddamn, she’s sexy as fuck. I want to be inside of her right this second. She has no fucking clue, fuck me—not a single one. This woman isn’t just innocent. She’s also clueless about life. Completely fucking clueless.

That should not be a turn-on, but right now, I’m thinking about all the ways I can teach her about life, and that is indeed a whole fucking turn-on.

“Because I’m not someone who can sit back and sleep at night knowing that some fucker is out there selling little girls for sexual enjoyment. I’m not fucking okay with that, and honest to fuck, I want to watch everyone involved in it that thinks it’s okay burn alive.”

“But you don’t know any of them,” she whispers. “The girls. You want to defend them, but you don’t even know them.”

I grunt and move toward her. I cup her jaw, sliding my thumb across her bottom lip.

“I get you think I’m an asshole, but, babe, swear to fuck, there is a moral compass inside of me. I cannot sit back and know that shit is happening, where it’s happening, and who is doing it and do nothing about it. Besides, Shade would have my balls from the grave over it.”

“My father wouldn’t like it,” she exhales. It’s not a question, it’s a statement, but I know she needs me to confirm that shit. So I do just that.

“That’s a goddamn understatement.”

I don’t let her respond. She doesn’t need to, at least not right now. Leaning forward, I touch my mouth to hers. Words cease to exist. She owns them all because I don’t have a single one left inside of me to even attempt to say.