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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

DAKOTA

I spent a good hour hanging out with Briana in her room, talking about anything and everything except one singular topic—me staying here.

I’m not sure if she’s avoiding it altogether or hoping that something will change, but either way, we don’t speak about it. And I’m okay with that. I’ve had an emotional few days as it is. Taking a little break from all things that cause my heart to race in either fear or excitement is admittedly lovely.

“You know that I just worry about you,” she whispers as I stand at the door.

Giving her a small smile, I dip my chin in a nod. “I know you are, but I don’t know how else to explain this other than it’s just right. When I walked into my dad’s home for the first time, I knew it. This was meant for me.”

“I’m happy that you have found yourself,” she says, although I don’t believe her words.

She’s saying them to make me feel better, but she absolutely is not happy with my decisions. I have to accept that and accept her feelings on the situation. Because I am going to continue to live the life that I feel is mine.

I wonder if my mother felt this way when she walked, or rather ran, away from my father, too. Maybe I’m more like her than I realize. That thought makes me feel some kind of way, and I decide that I don’t want to investigate that feeling, so I push it down and ignore it.

I open the bedroom door, step out into the hallway, and close it behind me. I’m walking down the hall, past several bedrooms that line each side of the hallway, making my way toward Bishop’s bedroom so I can wait for him when I hear a noise.

A familiar noise.

A groan.

A groan I recognize.

I turn my head toward said noise, and my entire body freezes at the sight in front of me. The door is wide open, though I’m sure it’s by design. Because the moment my eyes focus on what I’m seeing in front of me, my gaze meets hers.

I watch as Exorcist, the only name I know her by, sucks Bishop’s dick. It’s like a catastrophe that you’re witnessing in real time and can’t look away from. No, it’s not like that. It is that. My lips part, my eyes widen, and I watch as this woman sucks my fiancé’s cock.

Her eyes don’t look away from mine, and I can’t tear my own away from hers. With each stroke of her mouth, she makes an even bigger show of what she’s doing. Her hands play with his balls, and she takes all of him down her throat, making extra gagging noises when she does.

And every second I watch it happen, my heart breaks a little more.

I don’t look at him. I don’t take him in because all I can see is her. This bitch who made it very clear that she was going to do everything in her power to get rid of me. But it’s not even her fault. It’s mine.

I walked away at one point, and I let this man bring me back here. I should have stayed gone. I should have got in my car and driven away, selling everything. My initial gut reaction to this woman, to this life, was clearly correct.

And so was Briana’s.

Taking half a step backward, I start to walk away, run, sprint… although I don’t know where I’m going to go because my rental car is still at my father’s house. But that’s when she decides to stop what she’s doing and acknowledge me.

Except, it’s not at all in the way that I would want her to. In fact, her words make me feel physically ill.

“You want to join?” she asks. “It’ll be fun, and Bullet will love it. His favorite girl and his old lady together. That’s hot as shit.”

His.

Favorite.

Girl.

Shifting my gaze from hers, I look at him, my eyes dragging up to his body. He’s lying on his back on the bed, his eyes closed but a smile tugging on his lips. If I were to really take him in, maybe I could gauge what’s actually happening here, but he looks happy enough, and he’s been moaning as she sucks him off. That’s enough for me. He also doesn’t reject her offer to kindly allow me to join them.

Wordlessly, I turn away from them and walk down the hallway toward the bar. I hear her laughter following me down the hall, echoing against the walls around me and then bouncing off my brain as my feet quickly carry me away from them.

Thank God I’ve got shoes now.

Although I’m not sure it would matter if I did or didn’t at this point, I can’t feel anything anyway. I am completely numb. Nobody stops me or even notices me as I rush through the bar and toward the front door.

As soon as I push the door open and step out into the makeshift parking lot, I suck in a deep breath of mountain air. I’m not sure if it helps me gain clarity, but at the same time, my body somehow decides it’s time to run.

And run I do.

Hard and fast.

I take off down the long gravel driveway and head toward the gates of the property. I’m not sure where I’m going because I don’t know where anything is in this damn town, and I’m somewhere in the country.

But I don’t care.

I need to go.

I need to get away.

Far, far away.

BULLET

Groaning, I roll onto my side. My head feels heavy as fuck. Foggy too. It feels like I just woke up from a three-day bender, which included lots of drugs and booze. Lifting my hand, I scrub my palm down my face in an attempt to gain some clarity. I’m not sure it works. Pushing myself up to sitting, I blink a few times.

The room is blurry.

And my head fucking hurts. Like a goddamn migraine.

“What the fuck,” I whisper.

Shifting my gaze to the side, I look at the naked body in my bed that’s covered to the waist by the blanket and sleeping on her stomach. At the sight of the mass of dark hair, I let out a relieved sigh. At least I didn’t do anything stupid in my blacked-out state last night.

But then, as I sit and go over the events of the night, I realize that I should never have been blacked out to begin with. I had all of six beers, no hard liquor, and no drugs at all. Not even a bump or a joint—nothing.

“What the fuck,” I whisper again, my head pounding so hard that I wonder, if I looked at my reflection in the mirror, would I actually see my veins moving in and out? Because it sure feels like that’s something I could see right now.

When the body next to me moves, I look over and watch in abject horror at the face that greets me. Her lips curve up into a smile, and she reaches out, placing her hand on my chest. I blink, trying to make her face disappear and be replaced with the one that I want to see. But it doesn’t work.

Exorcist looks up at me with a soft and lazy smile. As soon as my body and brain sync up with this situation, I jump out of the bed. I’m dizzy as fuck and try to keep from falling down, my legs feeling incredibly unstable beneath my body.

She sits up, her tits on full display, as she has the nerve to appear confused by my actions. “What are you doing?” she asks.

“I should ask you the same fucking shit,” I snap.

Her eyes widen as she watches me, pure confusion laced in her expression. “Why the fuck am I in here?” I ask as I stand naked as the day I was born in front of her. Although it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before, so I don’t bother attempting to cover up.

“You wanted my mouth last night, begged for it,” she says, her voice coming out in a purr.

I highly fucking doubt that shit happened. I don’t say that, though. At least not yet. I need to find out what the hell actually went on and why I can’t remember a goddamn thing. And why my head is pounding.

I also need to find Dakota before she finds me.

“Did I?” I ask. “I don’t remember shit,” I confess.

My eyes search hers as I try to read her. I can’t imagine Exorcist would do something so fucking stupid as to drug a patched member of the Vicious Reapers, let alone their president. But as I take her in, really look behind those faux innocent eyes, I know that she’s full of shit.

“Want to tell me what actually happened?” I ask. “You have five minutes to make it right before I drive you to the edge of town, kick your ass out on the curb, and leave you there.”

She looks down at her lap, then, in a strange turn of events, she shifts to her knees. She spreads her thighs apart, her gaze never leaving mine before she grips her breasts and squeezes them.

My brows lift as I watch her, wondering what the fuck she’s doing and knowing that she’s not responding to my question, which was, what the fuck did she do to me? She doesn’t need to respond, though. I’ve pretty much figured it out. The pounding in my head, the grogginess, and the fogginess tell me everything I need to know.

She drugged me.

“We’re perfect together, Bullet. I will do whatever you want, the way you want it. I will never argue with you. I will never get jealous of another woman or give you limits and try and force you to be faithful, which we both know is something you aren’t. You can never belong to one woman. I understand that. Forget her because this is what you and I both know you need.”

She’s crazy. She’s delusional. She doesn’t know me, and what’s more, she’s sad.

I feel pity for her, but at the same time, the anger builds inside of me at her words, combined with what I assume is her actions. It’s too much. There is a noise by the door, and my eyes swing over to see that it’s wide fucking open.

Viking stands in the doorway, his gaze flicking between us. He doesn’t smirk, doesn’t appear to be amused in any way, and thank fuck, because I’m not either.

“We got a big fucking problem,” I growl.

He hums but shakes his head once. “We do, but it’s not this bitch in bed,” he says. I open my mouth to ask him what he’s talking about, but he doesn’t let me speak because he’s already talking, and by the time he’s finished saying just four little words, I feel as if my entire world has come crashing down around me—again.

“We can’t find Dakota.”

I jerk my chin toward Viking instead of running out of the room completely naked and going in search of her. Because that would possibly give this bitch the idea that she is going to get away with whatever the fuck she did. I try to tamp down my mixed emotions of anger and panic.

“Lock this bitch up until I can deal with her,” I growl.

Thankfully, Viking doesn’t argue with me. I hear Exorcist cry out behind me, but I ignore her. Grabbing my cut from the top of the small dresser in the room, I slip it on before I make my way to my room.

Dakota isn’t here, although I had hoped to find her sitting on the bed, arms crossed in anger. I know that if she saw whatever the fuck was happening between me and Exorcist, she would not simply be waiting for me.

She would be gone, and since she is, I have a feeling it is going to take a lot more than some sweet words to bring her back. I don’t blame her. Even if it was against her knowledge or will, if I saw her with any man, I would lose my fucking shit.

I root around for some clean clothes to put on but pause with the clothes in my hands. If I did anything with that bitch, I need to wash her stink off me.

Fuck.

I can’t believe this has happened.

Fuck me.

My body trembles as I take a quick shower. I don’t know how I’m going to fix this, but I am going to fucking try. Once I’m dressed and before I leave the clubhouse, I go in search of one person who might know where Dakota is… that is, if she’s still even here. Maybe they’re off somewhere together.