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CHAPTER THIRTY

DAKOTA

I know how to mourn. I’ve been doing it my whole damn life. My father, my mother. Then, once I got out of the commune, I mourned the life it seemed everyone else in the world had around me while I lived in a seemingly alternate universe.

Now that I’m here and I feel the void that had been inside of me filling with emotions of hope and love, I am forced to mourn the loss of my best friend.

The woman who saved me.

The woman who helped me get into community college classes and find a job I could support myself on. My roommate, my family. For a long time, she was everything to me, and now she doesn’t want to be in my life.

Bishop is standing in the hallway, his eyes fixated on the door to his bedroom when I open it. Finding him there is like a balm to my raw soul.

Wordlessly, I move toward him, one foot in front of the other, shuffling barefooted on this no doubt disgusting floor until my body collides with his. He wraps his arms around me, and the moment his muscles flex, my breath escapes in an exhaled sigh.

His lips touch the top of my head before he speaks. “I got you, baby,” he murmurs. “Right here, I got you.”

I’m not sure if he knows how much just those simple words mean to me, but when I raise my head, my eyes meet his, and it hits me like a ton of bricks. He knows. He knows everything. I cup his cheek with one hand, then the other, wrapping my fingers around the side of his neck.

Sliding my thumb along his bottom lip, I rise to my toes and touch my lips to his in a chaste kiss. When I back away a bit, his gaze shifts from mine as he looks over my head, no doubt to Briana, who stands behind me.

He shuffles me to his side, and I wrap my arms around him as I face Briana. Her gaze scans us, and her lip curls in what I can only describe as disgust. If Bishop notices, he doesn’t react to her expression.

“I’m going to take Dakota to her motel room so she can put on some clothes and shoes. Fucking hell, baby, you’re not wearing shoes.”

I almost laugh. It’s like he just noticed that I’m not wearing shoes when I haven’t been this whole time. Before I can say anything in response, he bends slightly, slides his arms beneath me, and cradles me like his bride, which he’s asked me to be, so maybe this is good practice.

I almost giggle to myself at that thought but decide against it. Instead, I wrap my arms around him, and my breath hitches when I look into his eyes.

“I’m not wearing shoes,” I agree on a whisper.

“Then let’s get you the fuck to the motel. We’ll go in the pickup. I don’t want you on the bike with no fucking shoes.”

“She can go in my car,” Briana snaps.

Our heads snap around to look at her. For a moment, I forgot that she was there, lost to the moment with this man so quickly that the entire world melted away around us. There was just us, and I wonder if it will always be this way. I hope it will. Being lost in this man’s eyes is absolutely reeling, in the best way.

But Briana’s voice brings me back to this reality, to this realm. Her expression is a mixture of disgust and annoyance. I should probably be offended, but she’s already made it perfectly clear that this situation is one that she will never be willing to accept in any way whatsoever, so I’m not offended in the least.

I probably should be, but I’m not.

“My bike is at Shade’s place anyway. Need to grab that before we come back here tonight.”

I open my mouth to ask him why we’re coming back here tonight when Briana lets out a loud snort. “I’m not coming back to this place tonight,” she announces.

I expect Bishop to say something smart-assed to her in response, but he doesn’t. He clears his throat, then he jerks his chin. When he speaks, I’m a bit shocked by his words. And what surprises me more than just his words is his tone.

“You’re coming back here for one night,” he states. “I want you to meet the men who are going to go with us to Oregon. When you leave here, we’re all leaving here. You need to be somewhat comfortable with them because this is going to be a long trip.”

Her eyes widen, and I watch as her lips part before she snaps them shut. She stares at him for another beat before she speaks. “You’re coming with me?” she asks with some snark to her tone. “I have a flight.”

Bishop snorts. “I’m sure you do, but we need to travel as a group.”

“You don’t trust me?”

Bishop shakes his head. “Has nothing to do with that and everything to do with keeping you safe, babe.”

Her eyes widen, and I can tell she’s stunned to silence. My lips curve up into a grin, and I hug Bishop a bit tighter. He chuckles, though not loud enough that she can hear him from where she’s standing.

“It’s not that serious, babe. Let’s get Dakota some clothes, get some dinner, and have a few drinks. You can get to know us all. Maybe you won’t hate us so much if you do. And let’s just relax. We had a long fuckin’ day.”

He can say that again.

Thankfully, Briana doesn’t argue. Together, the three of us leave the clubhouse, go to the motel, and then get some food before we head back to the clubhouse to eat it together. And drink. And hang out.

BULLET

I don’t know how I let her walk around this place with cutoff shorts so goddamn short that her ass is practically hanging out. Not that it’s a bad view, because it sure as shit is not. But there are about twenty other brothers walking around this club enjoying it just as much as I am.

Wrapping my arm around her waist, I tug her down on my thigh. She’s had a couple of drinks and is a bit loose as she lets out a belly laugh at something that either Maverick or Goose said. I watch as her eyes dance, listening to their story, but I don’t hear a fucking word of it because she is all I can focus on right now.

I gave the message that tonight was low-key. It’s just brothers and a couple of whores partying. I wanted to make sure that Briana didn’t have more ammunition to fucking annihilate me, plus after the fucking day we had, I’m exhausted.

The last thing I want to do is have a wild party. I also don’t want to get blackout drunk. I want my cock in perfect working order when it’s time to take my woman to bed. I slide my hand down her waist to her hip and then curl my fingers around the outside of her bare thigh, squeezing her there.

Briana snorts. My attention shifts from Dakota to her, and I arch a brow. She lifts the beer bottle to her lips and takes a pull before she sets it down on the table and leans forward. She’s a pretty woman, closer to my age than Dakota, and it’s clear she’s got her guard up.

“All of this,” she says, “it’s the Haven just draped in leather instead of hippie flowers and communal gardens.”

I bite my bottom lip and lean back slightly. I’ve thought of this as Dakota explained how the Haven worked and what they did when the lights went out. It’s very much like us, except for one of the major things.

“I don’t traffic teenage girls,” I state. “Never have and never will.”

Knowing that she’s one of those girls, I should probably feel bad that I said what I did, the way I did it, but she’s comparing me to that sick motherfucker and his deluded groupies.

“Besides that, we own a business, we all get an equal cut, and anyone can do whatever the fuck they want with their money. Most of us save it for retirement or to buy a house and shit one day, but some of the guys choose to spend it frivolously, and nobody says a word to them about it when they do.”

Hoping that will shut her up, I arch a brow as I watch her, waiting for her to respond—or not. I could go with not responding. But Briana wants to respond, so I let her say her piece, even if I don’t necessarily agree with it.

“It’s a cult by a different name,” she says. “And it’s okay. I actually think I like the premise for this much more than the Haven. There’s a freedom here that isn’t available there. I can see the draw.”

“Do you feel better about Dakota staying here?” I ask.

She shakes her head once, then brings her bottle of beer to her lips again. She takes a pull, her eyes never leaving mine. They’re searching my gaze, no doubt trying to get a read on me. She can look all she wants, but I have my walls up, and she’s not penetrating those—in any way.

“I don’t. And my opinion and stance haven’t changed. They won’t change, either. I hate that it’s come to this, but not every person you meet is supposed to stay in your life forever. I helped her during a time when I needed healing as well. She doesn’t know it, but just her being with me, it saved me.”

This shit is fucking deep for a night when I wanted to relax, enjoy a few beers, and lay my woman. So, instead of deepening the conversation, I give her a smile and a wink before I speak, and I ensure that my words are final, closing the topic of conversation for the rest of the evening, if not the rest of our acquaintance.

“Honesty is important. So I’ll be honest with you, too. I love Dakota. I’ll fight for her, however that looks. Sucks you can’t accept me, accept her father, because this club was Shade. It’s who he was. But we’re all adults, so we’ll just agree to move forward.”

Briana’s eyes hold mine for a moment longer, not breaking contact before she blinks and shifts them to the table, to the beer in her hand. I watch as she inhales a deep breath and then lets it out slowly.

Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything else. Viking walks up to the table, and the conversation is finished. He’s a presence all on his own. Dakota lets out a sigh and curls against my side, her face nuzzling my throat.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” Briana announces.

“I’ll walk you,” Dakota quips, jumping to her feet.

I should keep her on my lap, but I can tell that Viking wants to have a conversation, so I let her go. Dakota doesn’t walk away immediately. Instead, she dips slightly, touches her lips to my cheek, and whispers that she’ll be in bed… waiting.

My cock twitches at the thought.

I want to watch her walk away, but I don’t. Instead, I shift my gaze to Viking. His eyes follow the women. Then he shifts in his seat. I’m not sure why, but he appears nervous, and that bothers me greatly.

“ Viking ,” I warn.

He lets out a heavy sigh, shaking his head a couple of times before he speaks. I can’t imagine what the fuck he’s going to say, but when he does, my heart races. This is not what I wanted to hear. This is not what I thought he would say.

“The main wholesalers are out. They were only hanging on by a thread with Ralph. He was about to lose them all, probably why he was more than panicked, especially when the Bloodhounds kept wanting more shit.”

“Fuck,” I hiss.

“You’re going to need a couple more beers for the rest of this one, brother.”

I make a two-finger motion for more beer. Thankfully, since it’s a quiet night, the prospect sees me and sets four beers down in the middle of the table.

After jerking my chin in thanks, I look over to see if anyone else is still sitting at the table with us and realize that Maverick and Goose have dipped out, likely because they spotted a whore they wanted to bang.

Bringing one of the bottles to my lips, I take a long pull. I’m not sure this beer is going to be strong enough for what he’s about to tell me. I can tell just by the look on his face that he does not want to say the words that are about to pass his lips.

Thankfully, he doesn’t make me wait long.

“Our buyers are not going to be happy,” I warn.

“No,” he agrees. “They are not.”

Bringing the beer to my lips again, I take another drink. I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but I need details before I freak the fuck out. I start to warn him again, but I don’t need to because he continues speaking.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what other companies in Singapore can get us what we need. It’s becoming increasingly difficult.”

“Why?” I ask.

He shrugs a shoulder, bringing his own bottle to his lips before taking a long drink. Liquid courage or some shit, I’m sure. Nobody wants to tell their president that they can’t get shit handled after we’ve already burnt the fucker who was somewhat handling it to a crisp.

“They don’t want to deal with us any longer. I have a conference call with a company out of Hong Kong. They usually transport goods to Norfolk, Virginia.”

I run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends. “Fuck,” I hiss. “That’s not what I wanted to hear.”

“It’s not what I wanted to hear, either,” he admits. “Especially when we’re supposed to be doing a shipment soon. I’m hoping this call will rectify everything.”

I hope so. Standing, I clear my throat. “You’ll update me when you know more?” I ask.

He nods his head, and I grab the last beer, my body swaying as I take a step forward. Fuck. I wasn’t expecting to be this drunk. Walking through the bar, I make my way toward the hallway that leads to the bedrooms, but everything gets blurry.

So fucking blurry.