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CHAPTER FIVE

BULLET

Oregon.

Hearing Dakota tell me that she’s from Oregon feels funny. I’ve never, not once, known Shade to go anywhere west of South Dakota, and that was only to go to the Sturgis motorcycle rally. Something we’ve done as a group about every other year.

How the fuck?

My phone buzzes, and I look down to see that it’s a text from Piggy.

PIGGY: Dakota Vaughn. Born in Asheville, NC. Raised at Willamette Haven in Oregon. Thirty years old. No high school education. No college. Works remotely as a virtual assistant for a nationwide real estate company.

Lifting my gaze from my phone to meet hers, I watch as she stabs her salad again. Ivy is talking to her, telling her a little bit about Shade without going into too much detail. He wasn’t married, didn’t have any other kids, shit like that.

Texting Piggy back, I have a single question.

What the fuck is Willamette Haven?

PIGGY: A commune.

Like a cult?

PIGGY: Maybe. Didn’t read much into it, but I’m going to guess that’s what it is.

Fuck.

PIGGY: Basically. Mom’s dead, though, so we can’t ask her anything. No clue the connection and how Shade knew about her or any of that shit. We may need to talk to Shocker. He’s the only one left that was around before Shade was president.

On my fucking list for shit to do tonight.

Lifting my head, I smirk as I look at Dakota sitting across from me. Her gaze slowly shifts over to mine, and I watch as her face pales. I don’t know if I scare her or not, but I kind of hope I do. It’ll be a lot easier not to want to fuck her if she’s scared to fucking death of me.

“Wanna tell me about Willamette Haven?” I ask.

I can see the moment my question registers. She closes her eyes slowly, then reopens them. Her face goes from pale and scared to expressionless, and I feel like a fucking dick immediately. But I don’t apologize because I’m not sure I could form the words I’m sorry with my mouth.

“What about it?” she asks.

I expect her to act embarrassed or angry at my question, but she doesn’t. Instead, she pins me with her gaze, and I swear to all that is fucking holy that my cock instantly hardens.

I need her to be a fucking cunt to me. Otherwise, I’m going to want her. Want to keep her. There is something about her like nothing I’ve ever come across. She’s different in a good way. I just can’t put my finger on it.

So I don’t even try.

Instead, I continue on. “Tell us about it. What the fuck is it?”

“It’s a commune. It’s where my mother took me. It’s where I was raised. A place where we all worked together to make the community thrive.”

“A cult?” I ask.

She laughs, shaking her head as she looks down at her salad, and then she lifts her gaze to meet mine. Her expression grows serious. All humor has completely left her before she speaks. When she does, something akin to rage bubbles in my blood close to the surface.

“It could be. I don’t know. I’m not sure what a cult entails. Everything was equal. Everyone worked together. There was no money involved for the people living there. I’m sure that the leader had money to buy supplies, but I couldn’t tell you where it came from. There was no television, no movies, no internet. Except the office had a telephone and a computer, but I never used either.”

“So what the fuck did people do there?” Ivy asks, sounding shocked as shit. His words come out in a blurt, and I almost laugh. Ivy likes his television. He also is on his phone more than anyone else I’ve ever seen in my entire goddamn life.

“During the day, they worked on whatever their chores or duties would be. Then we would eat dinner. After that, the evenings began. I usually went to bed for those.”

Taking a bite of potato salad, I try to keep myself from asking what exactly happened in the evenings to make her want to go to bed. Unfortunately, Ivy doesn’t have the same restraint. Or maybe it’s fortunately, I’m not sure.

“What happened at night?” Ivy whispers, leaning forward as if this is the most enthralling tale he’s ever encountered in his entire goddamn life. It is enthralling as fuck, but I’m not going to act like I’m interested.

I want this bitch to sign over everything and walk the fuck away. She doesn’t deserve a goddamn thing. I don’t care how the fuck she was raised.

“They smoked, drank, and had sex.”

Well then.

DAKOTA

The look on Justin’s face is priceless when I tell him the truth. I didn’t tell him for the shock factor, although it’s pretty funny to see at the moment. I do know that the outside world doesn’t believe in free love and sex the way the Haven does. Briana told me at least that much.

Plus, I learned a lot by watching streaming shows and movies about how relationships on the outside seem to work. It feels like I’m in another world out here. Nothing is the same as it is inside the Haven, and it’s almost as if I’m a toddler walking and then running for the first time. Tasting foods for the first time—everything for the very first time.

“Interesting. And your mother was from there?” Justin asks.

I shrug a shoulder. “I don’t think so,” I say. “I have an actual birth certificate from a hospital, and they don’t have those there. It says I was born in North Carolina. So I assume she was here somewhere at one point.”

“Wild,” Justin exhales.

I’m not sure it’s wild , but I suppose it could be to someone who didn’t live that life. I’m really not sure how the rest of the world views the lifestyle at the Haven, just what Briana has told me. I don’t have anyone else other than her to talk to about it. Right now, I feel like I’m unloading unnecessary shit on both of these men, but I’m desperate to learn about my father.

“I guess, but really, I came here because I wanted to learn about my father, about Nathan.”

The men share a glance with one another, and I would love to know what they’re thinking, but I can’t tell by just watching them. Bullet turns to me, his gaze focused on mine. I stare at him, not even blinking as I watch him and wait for whatever it is he’s about to say. I know it’s going to be big.

“Shade was his name. I don’t know Nathan. We called him Shade, and he was the best man I’ve ever known. He was a father to me. What he wasn’t was a father to you.”

I gasp at his words. They hurt as if he’s physically assaulted me. I know that he hasn’t, but my entire soul and body ache. He stands from his bench and reaches into his pocket, tosses out a few dollars, and then stomps away.

Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I try my hardest not to let them fall. I don’t know why he’s so angry with me. I’m not sure what I did, but maybe my being here hurts him so badly that he wants to hurt me back.

It works.

It’s clear that he had great love for my father, and I’m sad that I’ve hurt him. Once Bullet walks away, I turn to Justin, who shifts uneasily in his seat. He is upset as well, but he doesn’t say anything to me about himself or how he feels about me speaking of Nathan.

“Bullet and your father were very close. You have to understand we didn’t even know you existed until after he died. So to not only find out about you but to then discover that you inherited everything, it was quite a shock.”

Snapping my brows together, I look down at my empty salad plate, then lift my gaze back to meet his. I’m trying really hard not to cry right now. Wringing my fingers together in my lap, I inhale a deep breath, hold it for a moment, and then let it out slowly before I find his eyes again.

“I didn’t know he existed until I was fourteen years old. My mother told me that he was a monster out to get us. To hurt us. A shadow whose name I couldn’t ever even whisper, or he might appear and take me away.

“She made me promise on her deathbed that I wouldn’t ever go looking for him. I never did it out of respect for her, but when the letter from John arrived, it seemed that it was meant to be. I always wanted to know him, and now I can do so through the people who loved him.”

“A monster?” he asks.

“A monster.”

It somehow feels wrong to tell Justin all of this. I don’t know why, but the details feel as if they belong to someone special. Someone like Bullet. And that is so weird. I don’t even know how to feel about that . I don’t know him, and yet, I want to divulge personal emotions and secrets to him.

I tamp that need down because clearly, he hates my mere existence.

“I appreciate you inviting me to lunch,” I murmur.

I’m not sure what to say, but Justin isn’t shy when it comes to his words. He starts talking, and by the end, I want to know every single person whose life my father touched.

“Shade was what we called him, your father. He had a chosen family here. People who loved him like a father, brother, uncle, and friend. What he didn’t have was a blood family. But he didn’t need them. He was the happiest person I ever knew. But now I can’t help but wonder if that was a facade because he didn’t have the one person he knew was his out there somewhere in the world.”

Pinching my eyes closed, I try not to let the tears fall, but for whatever reason, this man continues speaking and doesn’t stop. He also doesn’t even try to sugarcoat anything, but then again, maybe that’s what he is doing. Sugarcoating is what is actually much worse, and my stomach twists at the thought of that.

“It took John hiring a private detective to find you, Dakota. It took over a month. This makes me confident in assuming that Shade had no clue where you were all of these years. I don’t know the details. I’m not sure if anyone in the club does, but what I can tell you is that if Shade knew where you were, he would have stopped at nothing to find you. So, in that regard, your mother was right. He would have been right fucking there. But he was no monster. Rough around the edges, not perfect in any way, but not a fucking monster, I can promise you that shit.”

The tears silently stream down my cheeks as I lift my gaze to meet his. “I’m here to find out the truth,” I whisper. “I want to know everything I can. And I wish he were here to tell me all the things.”

Justin’s lips lift in a smirk, but the slight smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he clears his throat. “Then you came to the right place. I’m sure you’ll be going to his house today, but tomorrow around noon, come to this address, and you can eat some good grilled food and meet some of the men he considered family.”

I watch as he scribbles something down on a napkin. He slides it across to me, and I look down. It’s an address.

“Will you be there?” I ask before I lift my gaze to meet his.

“I’ll be there.”