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CHAPTER ONE
DAKOTA – 30 YEARS OLD
PRESENT DAY
The envelope stares at me. I can’t help but wonder if it will physically hurt me when I touch it… if I touch it. I know it can’t actually harm me, at least not physically, unless it gives me a paper cut, but still, it’s scary as hell and ominous.
I pick up the envelope then set it back down again before I attempt to go back to work. I’m a virtual assistant for a high-profile real estate agency. I handle all of their social media posts, schedule appointments for showings when someone contacts them through the website, answer all of the emails or send them to the proper agents, and respond to all of the social media comments.
For someone who doesn’t have a high school diploma, I am doing so much better than I thought I would after I left Willamette Haven. Luckily, the day I left, I wasn’t entirely on my own.
An ex-member of the commune, Briana took me in. She gave me a place to stay and helped me enroll in a few classes to learn about graphics and marketing. Then she gave me my first job. She had been working at a digital marketing agency, and the rest is history.
Through my experience there, I was able to apply for and get the job at the real estate firm. It’s a national company. I’m able to work from home, which is best for me since I’m not quite comfortable with the world yet.
Sure, I left the commune seven years ago, but even though I’m a thirty-year-old woman, I still don’t know much about the world I live in. I’m not particularly eager to find out anything either, much to the bane of Briana’s existence.
As I attempt to concentrate on my work, that envelope on the dining room table in front of me is absolutely screaming at me to open it. I try to ignore it. I even pick up my laptop and walk over to the chair in the living room, my back facing the thing, but it doesn’t work.
The envelope is louder than anything else in the room. Louder than my keyboard, louder than my own thoughts, louder than the Spotify playlist that I have going. I’m not going to be able to get anything else done today. So, instead of attempting to ignore it any longer, I place my computer down on the coffee table and stand.
Moving slowly toward the dining room table again, I reach out for the envelope, expecting it to actually burn my skin or something, but it doesn’t. It’s light in my grasp. There’s probably only one piece of paper folded and placed inside of it.
I can’t imagine what the contents are going to be.
Pinching my eyes closed, I slip my index finger beneath the seal and slide it across. Once the envelope is open, my eyes slowly open as well. Touching the folded piece of paper, I wait for it to do something.
Naturally, because it’s a piece of paper, it does absolutely nothing.
I inhale a deep breath and hold it for a moment, then, like ripping off a Band-Aid, I tug the paper out of the envelope. Just like I thought, it’s a single piece of paper folded into thirds. I wish this piece of paper would unfold itself and also read itself aloud so I don’t have to stress out about it any longer, but it doesn’t.
After I unfold it, I frown at the sight of the letterhead at the top.
Thunder Rock Estate Law Firm
What would a law firm want with me? Thinking that I somehow misread the return address on the envelope, I flip it around to read it and tilt my head to the side, confusion filling my entire body.
The return address doesn’t say anything about an attorney. In fact, it is exactly what I thought it was. It’s from my father.
Nathan Vaughn
PO Box 24356
Thunder Rock, NC
The way my mother spoke, or instead whispered about him, I didn’t get the impression that he was any kind of professional at all. She always said he was dangerous. A threat that could take us into his world and destroy us.
Shifting my attention back to the envelope, I clear my throat as my eyes scan the letter. It’s not from my father. Rather, it’s from his estate attorney. I don’t know what any of this means, but I read the letter slowly for a second time in hopes of comprehending what it says.
Dakota Noelle Vaughn,
I am writing to you in my capacity as the attorney representing the estate of your late father, Nathan T. Vaughn, who passed away on July 16, 2024. Please accept my office’s sincere condolences for your loss.
As the appointed executor of Mr. Vaughn’s estate, it is my duty to inform you of the contents of Nathan Vaughn’s last will and testament. According to the provisions of the will, you, Dakota Noelle Vaughn, have been named as the sole beneficiary.
As such, you are entitled to receive all assets, properties, and possessions that encompass the estate, subject to the resolution of any outstanding debts, taxes, and administrative expenses.
The estate of Nathan Vaughn includes, but is not limited to, the following assets:
*Primary Residence and All Personal Property
(10234 Old Highway 65, Thunder Rock, North Carolina)
*Cash in Checking and Savings accounts, along with any property locked within a Safety Deposit Box.
*2023 Harley Davidson Road Glide Motorcycle.
*Transferred Percentage Ownership of the Thunder Security Supply
There are several steps that must be taken to complete the probate process and facilitate the transfer of assets to your name. I will be able to assist you with the necessary legal formalities, including filing the appropriate documents with the probate court, addressing any creditor claims, and ensuring compliance with North Carolina State Inheritance Laws.
To discuss the next steps and address any questions you may have, please contact me at your earliest convenience at the number or address listed above. I understand that this news may come as a surprise, and I am here to provide guidance and support as you navigate this process.
Once again, please accept my sympathies for your loss.
Truly,
John Gentry
Thunder Rock Estate Law Firm
Holy.
Shit.
I guess my mom never had to worry about me finding my father because now he’s dead, and I never even met him. Chewing on the corner of my bottom lip, I stare at the name of the town. Thunder Rock, North Carolina. I’ve never heard of it before. Not that that means anything. It’s not like the commune taught me much about geography.
But he’s been all the way across the entire country, somewhere on the East Coast. I can’t help but wonder what kind of threat he truly was to us, to her, to me. And why was my mother so damn scared of him?
He left me everything.
Everything.
Which means he knew about me, and he knew enough to know where to have this letter sent. It’s not like I’m easy to find. I rent a room from Briana, and the only bill I have in my name is for a cell phone. I can’t imagine he would be able to find me from that alone.
But maybe he’s always known where I was.
BULLET – 42 YEARS OLD
The president of the Vicious Reapers MC is dead.
His funeral was amazing. Probably the biggest funeral I’ve ever attended. To say that Shade was respected as a man, a brother, a president, and a friend is an understatement. This man was beyond respected.
He’s the only father figure I’ve ever known, and if I were to poll the rest of the club, I’m sure they would all say the same thing. Losing him feels like I’ve just lost part of myself. Standing at the grave, I watch as they lower his casket down into the hole.
I only leave when people start to cover him with dirt. I can’t watch that part. Turning around, I make my way back to my bike. I straddle my machine then lift my hand to the other men who have been waiting for me.
Together, we ride. But it’s not with the same spirit we usually ride with. It’s somber, and it’s the last moments we have to grieve in silence. When we get back to the clubhouse, there will be a celebration of life.
And we will celebrate Shade’s life with gusto.
It doesn’t take us long to ride back. None of the prospects came to the funeral. Neither did the clubwhores. Instead, they stayed back at the clubhouse and set up the celebration of life. Riding my bike up to its normal parking spot, I stop but don’t climb off.
Instead, I stare at the little sign in front of it.
Vice President.
I’m not that anymore. But when my gaze shifts to the left, I can’t bring myself to park in my new spot. At least not yet. Maybe tomorrow. For tonight, the president’s spot stays empty out of continued respect for him.
I’m honored to carry on the title, but I wish it were under different circumstances. If it were up to me, he would have handed it to me when he was retiring, ready to live the life of a legacy member and enjoy everything he’s built.
He would have never got sick with that bullshit cancer and died.
He would still be here.
If it were up to me.
“Hey, baby, you coming in?” a voice moans out.
Lifting my head, I look up to see Exorcist standing just a few feet away from me. She’s wearing two little fucking stickers that barely cover her nipples, the rest of her tits fully bare, and a skirt so short that I can almost see her cunt beneath it, which is likely bare, too. Freshly waxed if I know her—and I do.
On her feet, heels so high it’s a wonder she doesn’t tip over and fall flat on her fucking face. Her bleached hair is bigger than usual, her makeup thick and dark, with deep bloodred lips that are no doubt going to stain my dick as she drains my balls.
She isn’t called Exorcist for no reason. This bitch gives head like a goddamn demon, and right now, I need her to make me forget how fucking depressing this shit is. This whole day has been.
Booze and pussy.
That’s what Shade always said made shit better, and I know he’s right because my night is about to be fucking phenomenal.
“Yeah, I’m comin’… or I will be soon,” I say with a smirk.
She laughs, the sound reaching my ears before she holds out her hand for me. “I can help with that.”
And she does.
More than once before the night is through.
And yet, I still feel empty.
Hollow.
Alone.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2 (Reading here)
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40