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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

DAKOTA

Briana hangs out at the back of the party. She won’t even look at me, no matter how many times I attempt to catch her eye. She even came over, got some food, and then walked back to where she stands now, her back to the wall, her plate in her hand, her eyes downcast.

Bishop keeps his hand at the small of my back the entire time. He doesn’t walk away from me for one minute.

All the guys are nice, but they watch me out of the corner of their eyes. I don’t know if they’re trying to figure me out or checking to see if I’m going to fall to pieces or not. Maybe wondering if I’m strong enough to be part of their group.

I’m probably not. So, hopefully, they don’t look too hard. Because I know without a doubt that I am not strong enough for any of this life. That has become abundantly clear, but at the same time, I’m not weak, either.

I don’t know what I am. But hopefully, I’ll be able to find out one day.

Soon.

Starting right now.

Reaching out for Bishop’s arm, I wrap my fingers around it and give him a squeeze. Instantly, he stops talking, then turns his head and dips his chin to look down at me. Slipping my tongue out of my mouth, I slide it along my bottom lip.

“I’m going to try and talk to her.”

He presses his lips together in a thin line, his gaze never leaving mine. He knows exactly what I’m saying and who I’m talking about. For a moment, we stare at one another, then he lets out an exhale.

“Fine,” he snaps. “But if I get even an inkling she’s being a cunt, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and take you to bed.”

“It’ll be fine,” I say.

He shakes his head once. “Yeah, well, I’m not changing my stance on that shit.”

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and slide them across before I release them and rise to my toes. After touching my mouth to his cheek, I lower myself to my heels and take a step backward. As I turn toward Briana, I suck in a breath and hold it while I close the distance between us, stopping when I’m a few feet away from her.

Slowly, she lifts her gaze to meet mine. “You’re still with him,” she states. “I know what you saw, and you walked away. You didn’t come to me as your friend. You just walked away. I was afraid something bad had happened to you.”

I know I should feel guilty, but none of that has to do with her. She made it very clear where she stood when it came to our friendship. There was no way in hell I was going to her just to hear her tell me I told you so after just a few hours.

“I am with him, and I know that you don’t like that. I’m not sorry, though. I’m doing this for me. It’s my mistake to make.”

“You’ll end up one of them,” she warns with a hiss. “That’s how it happens. They act like they love you, and then they whore you out.”

Shaking my head, I reach out and take Briana’s hand in mine. “I hate that they hurt you. I hate that you were so young. I wish I could change it all.”

Tears swim in her eyes, and she shakes her head a couple of times, blinking rapidly as she does, trying not to let those tears fall. She fails. They begin to stream down her cheeks. Her fingers flex around my hand and she lifts her chin, trying to keep her lips from trembling. Again, she fails.

“This is about you, Dakota,” she exhales.

“It’s about you, too,” I murmur. “Bishop wants to end the Haven for what they’re doing. He has men waiting to help him. He is ready to do this and expects nothing in return. He is not perfect. I am not perfect, either. I am throwing caution to the wind because I feel it in my gut,” I say, balling my free hand into a fist then slamming it against my belly.

“Okay, Dakota,” she whispers. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I ask.

Her lips curve up into a smile, and her tears stop falling. “I was stupid to tell you to choose between us. I can see now how much he cares about you. I still think it’s a whole-ass mistake, but I’m not going to end a friendship because of it.”

“I’m glad because you’re the only family I have,” I whisper.

She snorts. “You have an aunt. Posey.”

“But I don’t even know her. I know you. I love you. You’re my family.”

Briana shakes her hand out of my grasp before she takes a step toward me, then another before she throws her arms around me. “I was such a bitch. I’m so sorry.”

I press my palms against her back to bring her close to me. I’m not sure how long our hug lasts, and I don’t know if this is going to be the last one ever, so I’m in no hurry to release her.

When we finally do separate, I don’t back away from her. Instead, I move my hands to her shoulders and squeeze her biceps. “I know you hate the Haven, but remember what the main teaching was?” I ask.

Then, we both speak the words in unison. Words that we recited at least a million times over the years we lived in the commune.

“The future is ours. We are in control. Negativity does not belong. Positivity and light.”

BULLET

I’m sure I should feel happy for Dakota that she and Briana are on good terms now, but I was honestly hoping to leave her ass in Oregon and never fucking look back. But Dakota loves her, so I’ll tolerate her—barely.

The prospect standing guard jerks his chin toward me and takes a step to the side. Viking and Lightning are at my back. We move as one. The prospect doesn’t wait for us to approach. He opens the door and holds it for us to pass through.

The three of us walk into the holding room and look at the woman inside. It’s not a massive room, just twelve by ten. But it’s big enough that when she’s curled into the corner like this, she seems almost small.

But she’s not small.

Exorcist thought she was big hot shit when she did what she did.

“Grab her,” I demand. “Bring her into the shed.”

Turning my back to her, I walk out of the room and head toward the shed. I know without a doubt that this is fucking with her, and that’s why I’m going to do it. Then I’m going to kill her because this bitch will not stop. She chose to go behind my back after I told her that it was done, that she needed to stay in her fucking lane. She won’t ever quit.

Exorcist is going to get everything she earned.

The rest of the club is in the front of the building, partying. We slip out the back and quietly move toward the shed. We usually keep spare bike parts and supplies in here. It’s also where we handle shit like this if we need to, something we haven’t actually needed to do in a long time.

Flicking the light on, I stand to the side and wait for Viking and Lightning to drag the bitch inside. She’s whimpering and crying. Not such a badass bitch anymore, apparently. Being caught in the middle of manipulations and lies will do that to a girl, I suppose.

Personally, I’d have more respect for her if she acted unbothered by this. If she owned up to her bullshit. But she’s not going to do that, clearly, since she’s acting like she’s an innocent and delicate flower.

I’ve seen her take three dicks at once and jack off two more, five dicks total, so I’m going to go with the fact that she’s not a delicate anything. She also knew what she was doing and knew it was wrong.

She fucking drugged me.

That alone is an act punishable by death, not to mention the way she did it and how she talked to my old lady—multiple instances punishable by death in one moment. The other manipulative shit is annoying, but drugging me?

That is unacceptable.

“Please. I’m sorry. I won’t do anything ever again,” she whimpers as Viking and Lightning toss her into the middle of the room. She’s on her knees, her eyes wide as she attempts to appear soft and sweet—she’s neither.

“Yes, you will,” I state.

“I get it now. She’s your woman. She’s your life. I’m no longer part of it. I’ll never try to get between you again, I swear.”

Shaking my head slowly, I cross my arms over my chest. “This has absolutely nothing to do with you attempting to get between me and my old lady. You couldn’t if you actually tried.”

She narrows her eyes, her innocent act slipping. I almost laugh at the sight of her but decide against it. Leaning forward, I smile as I think about how I’m going to kill her, but I don’t explain what I’m thinking to her.

“You drugged me,” I state.

Then, without another word, I take my knife out of the sheath at my side and walk up to her. I press the tip of my knife against the hollow of her throat. Her breath hitches, and again, I almost laugh.

“I just want you to be happy. She won’t make you happy.”

Her words fall on deaf ears. Leaning down slightly, I make it so that I’m face to face with her, close enough that she can hear every single word I’m saying and does not mistake anything.

“I am the president of the Vicious Reapers. You drug me. You sign your death wish. Betrayal is never acceptable, no matter what level, and this is betrayal.”

Then, without another word, I push the knife farther into her throat before I jerk it up, tearing her whole fucking throat to shreds. The sounds of her gurgling fill the room. Blood sprays everywhere, and I know I should feel bad because I’ve just taken a life, but I fucking don’t. I don’t feel bad in the slightest.

Exorcist crossed some unspoken threshold that she knew she shouldn’t have ever crossed, yet she did, and so she paid for her bullshit. Turning to Viking, I jerk my chin. “Have a prospect clean this shit up,” I order.

“Sucks. Thought she was a good one,” he murmurs. “But that cannot fly. Not even once.”

No. It cannot. Leaving them in the room, I go in search of a shower and my bed. I need to rinse the blood off my face and neck. Then I need to climb into bed with my woman. My old lady. My fiancée.

This has been the most stressful week since Shade died. Swear to fuck, I was not made for this brand of shit. I was made for riding, drinking, smoking, and fucking. But as I strip the clothes from my body, I realize that I wouldn't want it any other way.

Whatever drama it takes to have Dakota at my side, it’s fucking worth it because that woman is my life. My world. And I fucking refuse to compromise at all whatsoever when it comes to her. So if it’s drama, it’s worth it, no matter from what angles that shit comes flying toward me.

Once I’ve showered the blood from my body, I wrap a towel around my waist and walk into the bedroom. Dakota is there, and her eyes lock with mine from her place on the bed. She’s sitting cross-legged in the middle. A small smile plays on her lips as I move closer to her.

“You good, baby?” I ask.

She hums, tossing her phone on the nightstand as she rises to her knees. Walking over to the side of the bed, I dip my shin slightly as I look down at her. Dakota lifts her hand and presses her palm to the center of my chest.

“What do your tattoos mean?” she asks out of nowhere.

“This is the club logo,” I explain. “Every patched member has one. It’s earned.”

“My father had one,” she says. It’s not a question but rather a statement.

I hum, nodding once. “He did.”

“And me, when I’m your wife, do I get a tattoo?” she asks.

My cock twitches at the thought of her wearing something that represents me. Lifting my hand, I pinch her chin slightly, tugging it up so I can look directly into her eyes. “We can get you some ink, baby,” I say, my tone rough.

“I would like that,” she exhales.

I chuckle. “Not a fuckin’ hardship, baby.”

Lowering my head, I touch my lips to hers. I kiss her softly, then slip my tongue inside her mouth, and I taste her—fully and wholly. Releasing her chin, I slide my hand around the back of her neck and tangle my fingers in her hair.

When I break the kiss, I rest my forehead against hers and keep my eyes closed as I speak. “I fucking love you, Dakota. Sent to me straight from fucking heaven. I don’t deserve you, especially since I’m headed straight for hell. But I’m keeping you, baby. I’m fucking keeping you until I take my last goddamn breath.”

“Bishop,” she whimpers, her fingers gripping my biceps.

“Swear to fuck, baby. Made for me.”

When I kiss her again, my towel falls off, or maybe I tug it off. I’m not sure. It’s a blur. A perfect fucking blur of bodies, lips, tongues, teeth—anything and everything.

Tomorrow, we go on our next hopefully low-drama-filled adventure, but even if it’s full of fucking drama, I’m going to smile through the whole thing. Because I have her. She’s mine, and she’s not going anywhere ever again.

Fuck me, but I love this woman.

So I tell her.

“Love you, baby.”