Page 24 of Wild Ride

I know I would be.

“That’s up to all of you. Honestly, I’m ready to ride at fucking dawn.”

Shocker chuckles then clears his throat, and because he is the eldest member of our group, everyone shuts their fucking mouths as he takes the table. He doesn’t stand. He doesn’t need to. He just speaks, and we all listen.

“Shade would have been absolutely fucking beside himself with grief and anger to know that his baby was livin’ in that place. Bein’ around those men. I don’t know anything more about Dakota than anyone else here. All I know is that Shade regretted losing her every fucking day of his life. It broke him when her mom disappeared. He looked for them to no avail. Now we know why. Holed up in some sick fucking cult, living under the guise of free love and community.”

The entire room is bathed in silence as he continues. “We do this for Shade—one last act of devotion to the man we all loved. We also do this because, like it or not, Dakota is family now. She is one of us.”

He’s absolutely right.

And that is the moment I decide to devise my own plan involving Dakota Vaughn.

She is the princess of the Vicious Reapers MC, and right now, I’m the reigning king. She may not actually hold any power, but having her as my woman gives me the extra fucking power in just the simple fact that she is Shade’s bio kid.

The princess.

Off-limits to every goddamn man in this club except me. Mainly because I’m the one who makes those rules now.

“We’ll take it to a vote. Who wants to go in and invade the hippies in Oregon?”

Unanimously, it’s decided that we will indeed not just investigate this shit but go to end the fuckers who are running Willamette Haven. Painfully. My lips curve up into a grin, and I slam the gavel down, ending the meeting.

“When do we leave?” Razor asks.

Jerking my chin, I flick my gaze around to the men who are waiting for my answer. “I need to speak with Dakota and get some information, along with as much intel on the property and security as she can give me. We’re going to go in there as educated on this shit as humanly possible. Because I don’t want to get stuck in some kind of war there.”

“In and out,” Ivy mutters.

Smirking, I clear my throat before I speak. “Exactly, in and out and back home before anyone is the wiser.”

With chin lifts and jerks, it is agreed on. Piggy and Ivy stay behind to help start the planning while the rest of the guys file out of the conference room and go about their duties. We’re supposed to get a shipment for delivery today at the store and then also load up a truck to ship out to our buyers, along with deliveries for legitimate customers.

It’s a busy day here at Vicious Reapers, but never too busy to take down a group of sick motherfuckers who hurt kids. I will never be too busy for that shit, no matter fucking what is going on in my life.

Not ever.

I’m not a good man, never have been, but there is one thing I will never compromise in my morals, and that is how I feel about hurting the innocent. Not fucking okay—ever.

CHAPTER TEN

DAKOTA

After findingthe box of letters, I decide that I don’t want to look around anymore. That was my allotment of tears for the day, and I’m afraid I’ll just uncover more things to cry about, so instead of staying and poking around some more, I gather my box of letters and head back to the motel.

The girl from the other night is behind the counter. She lifts her eyes and looks across the parking lot at me, no doubt noticing me staring at her. She still seems really pissed off in general.

Ignoring her, I turn back to my car and reach into the back seat, taking the box with me upstairs to my room. After walking inside, I lock the door behind me, then place the box on the little table before I make my way into the bathroom, where I decide to strip off my clothes and take a shower.

I need to wash the feeling of Bullet from my body. I’m still angry as hell at him. I know I’ll probably be forced to see him, especially if I go to that party I was invited to, but that doesn’t mean I want to see him again, because I really do not.

Once I’m thoroughly washed and dried, I put on a pair of sleep shorts and tank top, then comb out my wet hair. Shifting my gaze to the reflection in the mirror, I take in my freshly washed face, my wet hair, and my eyes.

I focus on my eyes.

I’m not sure what I’m searching for, but I don’t find it anywhere in my reflection. With a heavy sigh, I turn the bathroom light off, then open the door and step into the bedroom. Something causes my spine to straighten the moment my feet sink into the carpet of the motel room floor.

When I lift my gaze to the bed in the middle of the room, I realize what caused my spine to straighten. There is a man sitting in the middle of my bed, his back leaning against the headboard, his entire body stretched out, and his boots crossed at the ankles.

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