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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

DAKOTA

The bitch tackles me to the floor. Which is gross and sticky. I don’t stay on my back for long. When her fingers curl in my hair, I wince because I know she’s going to yank, and she does. Hard. But I don’t just sit back and take it. Fuck this bitch. She’s got some kind of anger toward me when I didn’t do shit.

Lifting my hips, I roll my body so she’s the one on the nasty-ass sticky floor. She tugs on my hair again, but I’m not here to play nice. My scalp burns, but she’s about to feel my fingers around her throat.

I may have been raised with peace and love for all, but I am not going to roll over and take whatever this deranged woman has to offer me. She pulls on my hair harder, and at the same time, I wrap both of my hands around her throat.

Screw trying to fight her off. I’m not about to be bruised or bleed for this bitch. For someone I don’t even know what her name is, let alone anything else about her other than she sells her body to these men.

I narrow my eyes on her face, and the rest of the room disappears. Blackness curves around my vision, making it easier for me to focus on her and the pressure I apply around her throat. Her hand releases its hold on my hair before both of her hands wrap around my forearms.

Her nails dig into my flesh, but I don’t stop. At least not until I feel my body being lifted from the floor and am forced to stop. I don’t want to, though. I’m hot with anger, my vision only focused on her and fueled by my rage.

That is until my feet are set back down on the floor and two strong arms are wrapped around me from behind.

Then I hear a voice that is an instant balm to my rage. “Baby, calm.”

I don’t say anything, although I want to tell him that I am calm, but I know it would be a lie, so I don’t. My gaze doesn’t leave her body, though. I’m focused on the way she lies there, pretending to be passed out when I know her grip was firm enough just a few seconds ago that she was trying to shed blood on my arms.

I force myself to calm down, my breathing becoming even, mainly because I want him to release me, and I want to look into his eyes when I tell him what that woman did to me. The way she attacked me.

Thankfully, when I try to turn around, he releases me just enough so I can. As soon as I face him, his arms tighten again. One of his hands presses against my lower back, and with the other, he curls his fingers around my hip, flexing them the moment my eyes meet his green ones.

“She attacked me. I was defending myself.”

Bullet’s eyes widen, and his lips twitch into a smirk. He obviously finds this humorous. I don’t smile, mainly because to me, none of this shit is funny. Instead, I tilt my head to the side and watch him for a moment, waiting for him to respond because I can tell that he’s got something to say. The words are on the tip of his tongue.

“Exorcist knows not to approach you.”

That’s it.

That is all he says.

I snort as my response. “Maybe she needs to be reminded because she came up to me.”

“Maybe you just misinterpreted what she had to say?”

Everything inside of me deflates at his words. My scalp burns, but the pain instantly vanishes. My focus shifts from the physical pain to the emotional pain from his words, from his excuses for this woman. I shut down almost instantly. I didn’t want to fight over him, over anyone, and she goaded me.

I wrap my fingers around the inside of his bent elbows, and I push down. Thankfully, the move catches him off guard, and he releases me. Moving backward a couple of steps, I clear my throat as I turn toward the table where my laptop is still sitting open.

I close my computer then grab my purse that is sitting on the empty chair and hitch it over my shoulder as I tuck my laptop beneath my arm.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing,” Bullet demands on a growl.

Turning to him, I wet my lips, giving myself an extra calming breath before I speak. Keeping my tone soft and even, not raising my voice so that nobody else around us can hear, I tell him exactly what I’m doing.

“I am gathering my things, then I am going to my rental car, and I will be driving back to my motel room. From there, I will get a good night’s sleep before my meeting with my father’s estate attorney in the morning. After I’ve signed some papers, I am going to go to his house and gather the things I want. After that, I will be heading back to Oregon.”

“Yeah? You think you’re going to do all of that and just leave?” Bullet asks.

Flicking my gaze down to the bitch who is now sitting there pretending to attempt to catch her breath, I slide my eyes over to him. “I think you have plenty here to keep you busy. This is not the place for me. It’s time I go home, where I belong.”

“Where’s that?” he spits. “The cult?”

Anger quickly fills me, but I tamp it down just as fast. “No, I left there a long time ago. I am not a child of the Haven. I am Dakota Vaughn, and now that I know where I come from, I think it’s time for me to find myself.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else as I turn around and walk out of the bar.

BULLET

I let her walk out of the clubhouse, but not because I’m giving up on her in any way. I’m not. I just have other shit to do, and it’s better she isn’t here when I do it. Flicking my gaze down to Exorcist, I watch as she stands, her face bright and her lips curved up into a huge smile.

This woman thinks she’s victorious.

Shifting my gaze to her throat, I smirk at the sight of the red marks there. Dakota did that. I didn’t know she had it in her, but maybe it’s just the Shade part in her coming out. Exorcist places her hand on the center of my chest, tilting her head back slightly as she looks into my eyes.

“Thank fuck she’s gone. Let’s go back to your room and have some fun,” she purrs.

Wrapping my fingers around her wrist, I squeeze and tug her hand down. She whimpers, her knees buckling slightly because I’m being less than gentle. I would go as far as to say that I’m being a dick.

“Bullet,” she whimpers.

“Did you walk up to my woman and talk shit?” I ask.

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head from side to side rapidly. Again, I almost fucking laugh. I don’t. Instead, I clear my throat as my brows knit together at her next words.

“I didn’t know she was your woman. I thought she was just here trying to take over Shade’s life. I didn’t know.”

I would call Exorcist a liar to her face, but that would be pointless.

She is a liar.

I know she was there when I claimed Dakota as mine and off-limits. She’s playing a little game because she got caught. No doubt, she assumed that Dakota would not fight, let alone fight back. I would have assumed the same, but the more I learn about Dakota, the more I discover I can’t predict a damn thing about her.

“You go anywhere near her again, you talk to her, look at her, breathe her air, and I will throw you out of here, ass first. No fucks given on where you land. Not a single goddamn one. You understand me?”

“Yes, Bullet,” she breathes.

Releasing her wrist, I push her away from me, watching as she stumbles backward. I expect her to fall on her ass again, but she catches herself before she does. She squares her shoulders, jerks her chin up, and looks down her nose at me.

I know this is some way of self-preservation, but I don’t give much of a fuck. She screwed the fuck up. She knows it. I know it. I’m not just one of the patched brothers, which would be bad enough, but I’m the fucking president. Not only will I not stand for that shit, I cannot stand for that shit because I will not look weak in front of my own club.

The bitch scrambles away, and the moment that she does, I’ve forgotten her and am moving right the fuck on with my day. I walk toward my office and sit down in my chair, sending a mass text about church being held tonight.

I’m sure there is a collective groan from everyone, but this needs to happen. Now that Bloodhound MC is part of a new equation, we need to discuss it. And I need everyone not only in on what we’re going to do, but I also need them to be completely vigilant at all times. Because it’s clear as fucking day that the Bloodhounds are on the hunt, and I fucking refuse.

The Vicious Reapers are not for sale and never will be. We’re also not up for grabs in any capacity. So I won’t be backing down to any shit they try, and they will not be the victors. Not in a goddamn thing they do.

“Church?” Ivy asks as he walks through the door.

Lifting my head, I watch as he sits down on the sofa across from me. He’s dressed for work, which is surprising, seeing as it’s after hours and he typically changes before he comes here after going to the office.

“Bloodhound MC is starting some shit. Need to make everyone well aware of the situation then talk about Oregon. About who wants to take that on and contact the club over there. But right now, we are not going to be able to send a whole crew there, not with Bloodhound on our backs chomping at the bit for us to fuck up so they can swoop in and start a war.”

“Fuck me,” Ivy grunts. “I didn’t even come here for that, so I think you might get pissed off with me adding more to your plate.”

“What?” I grunt.

“It’s Dakota. She called down to the office.”

Arching a brow, I lean back in my chair and watch him, waiting for him to tell me what the fuck he’s talking about. Tapping my fingertips on the desktop, I watch and wait. He rests his elbows on his thighs, his hands hanging between his legs before he speaks.

“She called and said she wanted to sell everything. Her share in Thunder Security Supply, Shade’s bike, the house, everything. And the contents, she just wants an estate sale and to be done.”

Done.

Interesting.

I didn’t think she was that pissed off.

Placing my palms on the desk, I straighten my legs and stand as I clear my throat. “This is because of Exorcist. They got into a fight today.”

“I heard,” he chuckles. “Prospect told me it was a straight-up battle but that Dakota not only held her own but could have killed her. Not a bad bitch to have on the back of your bike.”

Not a bad bitch, indeed.

“Guess I better go remind her of a few things.”

Ivy watches me for a moment, shaking his head once. “I don’t know. Maybe you should stay away from her. She seemed pissed, and not in a good way. Maybe she needs a few hours.”

He’s probably right. Ivy seems to know how to keep a cool head about shit. Maybe that’s something he learned in law school ’cause I sure as fuck didn’t learn it here at the club. I’m all about shoot first ask questions later, but Shade practiced patience, and I’m old enough that I should do that shit, too.

So, instead of walking past Ivy and heading straight for my bike, I flop back down in my chair. Ivy chuckles, then stands and walks toward my desk. He pats the top, his eyes focused on mine.

“For the record, I like her a lot. She’s got spirit and fight inside of her that matches yours. She’s confused. She might be a club princess, but she sure as shit doesn’t know anything about club life, and the life she does know is fucked up. Patience is going to be the way to go with her and maybe…”

“Yeah?” I ask when he doesn’t continue immediately.

“Love.”

“Okay, Romeo,” I snort.

He chuckles. “Don’t tell anyone. I’m a ruthless attorney and a badass biker.”