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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

DAKOTA

I should probably be embarrassed, but I’m not. I don’t really care that all these men saw me completely naked because they were my saving grace. My knights on steel horses. They rescued me from a life that I absolutely wanted nothing to do with—from hell.

Just thinking about being married to that man makes my skin itch. I wouldn’t have done it. I would have figured some way out of it because there is no way I was going to just accept that fate.

The man I ran to ushers me over to the pickup truck, then he reaches in and produces a shirt. I don’t know where it came from, and I don’t care, either. It’s going to cover my body, and right now, that means everything.

There’s also the simple fact that I’m happy to be away from the whole damn bunch. I don’t know who those men were. I know what they want, but I don’t know who they are, and I’m more than happy to be away from them all and never come back.

I’m also beyond grateful to be covered because as glad as I am to be found, I’m also very aware that I am, indeed, naked . Once the shirt is over my body, I close my eyes for a moment, sucking in a deep breath and welcoming the soft fabric against my skin before I turn to face the man behind me.

“I’m Viking,” he announces. “I’m the road captain for the Reapers.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I whisper.

His lips twitch into a smirk. Before he says anything else, he looks over his shoulder and then shifts his attention back to meet mine. “We should get out of here before shit really pops off,” he murmurs.

I can’t imagine what else could possibly pop off, especially after hearing that gunshot and knowing that someone is dead. Likely the asshole who was chasing after me. And while I know that I should be swimming with guilt that someone lost their life, I’m not. That guy was going to hand me off to the devil himself with a smile.

Good riddance.

Letting out a heavy exhale, I look up into Viking’s face. Searching his blue eyes with mine, I can’t help but wonder how this tall, massive man standing in front of me seems more like a gentle giant and less like a scary badass biker. I open my mouth and then snap my lips closed. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say.

“We can stay here if you want. Doesn’t matter to me. We can sit right here in this truck.”

Looking over my shoulder, I watch the scene playing out from a distance. There are more bikes than I remembered seeing a few moments ago. Men are milling around, but I don’t see Bishop anywhere.

Swinging my gaze back to Viking’s, I ask him a question instead of answering his. “Where is Bishop?”

“Bishop?”

Shaking my head as if I can gather my thoughts a bit better by doing that, I continue. “Bullet. I meant Bullet.”

“So, that’s his name,” he says, his lips curving up into a grin.

I’m not sure if Bishop’s name is a secret, but I’m wondering if I somehow screwed up. Then I decide that I don’t care too much. I was literally kidnapped, threatened into a forced marriage, and ran around in front of a dozen bikers completely naked. If his name was a secret, it’s not now, and I can’t be bothered to care.

“Yeah,” I say.

“He’s in that clubhouse, likely murdering every fucker who crosses his path,” he simply states.

My eyes widen, and I blink as I stare at him, unsure of what to do or say as I stand barefoot in the dirt. Looking over to the building again, I watch for a moment, not seeing anything and seeing everything clearly all at the same time… at least, I think I do.

When I find Viking’s gaze again, I ask him another question. “Is he doing this just because of me?”

His eyes widen, and he dips his chin slightly as his brows rise to his hairline. “Do you think he wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know what I think,” I say, and I’m being completely truthful and honest.

Viking chuckles. “I can tell you right now that it’s been a while since anyone in the club had a woman of their own, but we would kill, torture, and maim anyone who came after what was ours. And you’re that, Dakota. You’re his. You’re ours.”

I’m not sure how that makes me feel. Confused. It makes me feel confused. “Yours?” I ask.

“Our family. Bullet’s woman. Nobody shares unless it’s agreed upon, and I, honest to God, have only ever seen Goose and Maverick share anyone who wasn’t a clubwhore. We’re open with sex, but we’re also territorial.”

I’m not sure if that new knowledge makes me feel better. I’m sure it should, but right now, I’m so confused I don’t know which way is up. Viking, thankfully, doesn’t expect me to respond to his words. Instead, he continues to talk.

“You’re Bullet’s woman, Dakota. But you’re also Shade’s kid. Even if we didn’t know you existed, he did, and that’s good enough for us. You’re family. And nobody, not a single goddamn soul, and especially not another MC, fucks with our family,” he states, his words ending on a growl.

“Plus, unbeknownst to us, they’ve been trying to fuck around with our business, and that’s also a punishable offense, though not as bad as what they did with you,” he explains before he leans forward.

His face is only a few inches from mine, his smile playing on his lips. I wonder how many women fall at his feet because I probably would if I weren’t head over heels into Bishop. If my body didn’t sing for him. If I didn’t feel like I was made to be his.

“They were fully aware of what was going to happen to them if we found them. They thought they wouldn’t be caught. Plain and simple.”

“He was going to force me to marry him,” I whisper.

Viking nods once, then he clears his throat, and his gaze shifts over my shoulder and toward the building behind me. When his eyes move back and find mine, he jerks his chin upward then tilts his head toward the side as if to motion for me to get inside.

I do. I climb into the back seat all the way to the other side. Viking follows behind me, locking the entire truck from the inside when he does. He dips his chin, clearing his throat before he speaks.

“Force you to marry him?” he asks.

“Grudge, the guy in charge. That’s what I was getting ready to do before I escaped. He made me take a shower. I didn’t have any other clothes, so I wrapped a towel around myself, and I ran for my life.”

It’s basically the long and short version of it, the truth without going into detail. Viking shakes his head a couple of times as if he can’t believe I’ve just told him what I have.

“If you married him, then Bullet wouldn’t have been able to take you back. What a fucking bastard. He deserves everything that’s going to happen to him in that clubhouse. He brought it all on himself. You’re going to need to accept that.”

I’m not sure how I feel about it, about a man dying and me having any kind of involvement in it. Instead of saying that, I suck in a breath and hold it for a moment, letting it out slowly again as I lift my gaze to meet his.

“He knows the rules of this world,” I whisper.

And that is all I can give.

“He sure as fuck does,” Viking clips.

And that is that.

We don’t say anything else. Sitting in the back seat of that truck, the air heavy around us, we both become lost in our own heads. Him no doubt thinking of all the ways Grudge is going to suffer. And me, thinking of all the ways that something bad could happen to Bullet and hoping that he’s going to walk out of that building unscathed.

BULLET

It isn’t hard to find Grudge. He must have heard the gunshots outside because as soon as I walk into the clubhouse, I see him emerging from what I assume is his office. He stands in the middle of the room, his eyes wide in surprise.

I wonder how he can be shocked that we’re here. Certainly, he has surveillance. Especially since he’s been selling my fucking equipment to fuck knows whom all over the country. Attempting to take over my clients and my club.

One would fucking think he had his shit together.

And yet.

He’s surprised to see me, and that is goddamn kismet and hilarious all at the same time. “Did you think it was Dakota standing here waiting for you?” I ask. He frowns, and I decide, since I’m the one with my gun in my hand, to continue speaking. “Don’t worry, she’s safe.”

Grudge opens his mouth, then closes it again, and I can’t do anything but smirk at him. I am going to be so fucking happy to watch him die in front of me.

“You thought you could take my woman from Shade’s fucking house, and I wouldn’t come looking for her?”

He shrugs a shoulder, obviously not one to actually fucking speak. He’s a coward. Working in the background without actually doing anything up front. He’s owning nothing of what he’s done, and that shit pisses me off.

At least, if he’s going to have the balls to take my woman, he should stand in front of me and tell me so with his whole fucking chest what his plans were. Not just with her, but everything. He doesn’t. Instead, he just stands in front of me like a fucking asshole and an idiot.

Lifting my hand, I point the barrel of my gun at him. I don’t even have to really concentrate to make a kill shot. My bullet wants to end him. It would only take one. He’s a gigantic goddamn pussy, which I already knew, but seeing it in front of me, front and center, is almost hilarious.

He trespassed into our territory and kidnapped an innocent woman. He no doubt traumatized her with some false sense of control. He tried to ruin our club’s business when we were mourning the loss of our president.

He is the biggest pussy I’ve ever seen, even more than Ralph, and that’s saying something because he’s a gigantic fucking vagina and a liar. I’m honestly not sure how much longer he’s going to be breathing, either.

I’m in a fucking mood right now.

“Beg me,” I say. “Drop to your knees and beg me to live.”

His lips curve up into a grin. “Fuck you.”

I would say the same if someone told me to drop to my knees, but I thought I would ask. I wanted to see just what kind of gaping cunt this guy was. Clearly, he has some kind of boundary. Not much, but some—a sliver.

“No,” I say, “I don’t think so. Not my thing. But I will be fucking Dakota while your body is rotting somewhere or burning. You know what? I’m actually not sure what we’re going to be doing with you. I think burning, so we can take care of your whole fucking club at once, plus less evidence and nobody is going to give a fuck that a whole MC clubhouse burnt to the fucking ground. The cops will probably throw a fucking party.”

He opens his mouth to speak again, but I don’t let him say a single fucking word. Mainly because fuck him. Squeezing the trigger, I watch as he falls to his knees before he lands on his front.

My lips curve up into a smile as he slams down against the concrete, hearing the crunch of things breaking in his face. Glorious, really. The whole scene. Ten fucking stars. The fucker isn’t breathing anymore, and that’s exactly what I was going for.

“I wanted to torture him,” I mutter to myself.

“And I wanted to see that, but we got more fucks than this one to deal with,” Razor says.

I turn my head to face him. He jerks his chin toward the man at his side. Ralph . I do need to deal with him because all of this started because of his bullshit. This motherfucker is standing beside me, trembling. He looks like he’s going to piss his pants here and now. I should stare him down until he does.

I’m sure he would. I’m not sure he’s going to make it out of this alive, anyway.

Well, except for the fact that I need him. I need his supply. At least, in my head, I do. The reality is that I could probably find someone else to supply what we need, but it’s easier that he does it because it’s already an established working relationship.

However.

And that is a big fucking however .

Because Ralph has fucked us over completely, not to mention involved himself with the goddamn cartel, which means we’re indirectly involved with the goddamn cartel. Something I never fucking wanted, and I doubt that Shade did, either.

Something that this fuck got us into and I’m going to have to get us out of. This means sacrifices are going to have to be made, and I know without a doubt that those sacrifices are not going to be made by any single member of the Vicious Reapers.

“Gather every person in this clubhouse and bring them here,” I call out.

A few moments later, all the Vicious Reapers in the room have disappeared and gone in search of Bloodhound members, leaving me and Ralph alone. I could end him right now and be done with the whole thing, but I’m still not sure what I’m going to do with him.

I can’t imagine that this club has no goddamn clue that enemies are in their territory. I cannot fathom running a club this fucking clueless. I can’t help but wonder what the hell is actually going on here. Because no way in hell is our bar ever this empty, ever, there are always men and whores milling around.

This is the most bizarre club I’ve ever encountered. And it makes me think that there is something a hell of a lot bigger happening behind the scenes. But if I wanted to ask Grudge, it’s too goddamn late because that motherfucker is no longer breathing.

And I’m still not sorry about that part.

Not that he would explain shit to me anyway. Because I wouldn’t say a fucking thing to someone who came in with the intent to kill me, either. Plus, I’m glad he’s dead. I’ll comb through this entire club and find out the fucking truth of it all

And so that’s what I plan to do.

My men gather the Bloodhounds and their whores, bringing them into the bar. I ask Razor to keep an eye on Ralph while I go in search of anything and everything that I can find to enlighten me on why these fucks thought they could do what they did. All the while, I can’t help but wonder just how deep Ralph is into this shit. I don’t trust a fucking thing he’s said to me. And now I’m questioning Shade. Which I fucking hate.