Page 43 of Wild Ride

“Thank fuck she’s gone. Let’s go back to your room and have some fun,” she purrs.

Wrapping my fingers around her wrist, I squeeze and tug her hand down. She whimpers, her knees buckling slightly becauseI’m being less than gentle. I would go as far as to say that I’m being a dick.

“Bullet,” she whimpers.

“Did you walk up to my woman and talk shit?” I ask.

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head from side to side rapidly. Again, I almost fucking laugh. I don’t. Instead, I clear my throat as my brows knit together at her next words.

“I didn’t know she was your woman. I thought she was just here trying to take over Shade’s life. I didn’t know.”

I would call Exorcist a liar to her face, but that would be pointless.

Sheisa liar.

I know she was there when I claimed Dakota as mine and off-limits. She’s playing a little game because she got caught. No doubt, she assumed that Dakota would not fight, let alone fight back. I would have assumed the same, but the more I learn about Dakota, the more I discover I can’t predict a damn thing about her.

“You go anywhere near her again, you talk to her, look at her, breathe her air, and I will throw you out of here, ass first. No fucks given on where you land. Not a single goddamn one. You understand me?”

“Yes, Bullet,” she breathes.

Releasing her wrist, I push her away from me, watching as she stumbles backward. I expect her to fall on her ass again, but she catches herself before she does. She squares her shoulders, jerks her chin up, and looks down her nose at me.

I know this is some way of self-preservation, but I don’t give much of a fuck. She screwed the fuck up. She knows it. I know it. I’m not just one of the patched brothers, which would be bad enough, but I’m the fucking president. Not only will I not stand for that shit, I cannot stand for that shit because Iwillnot look weak in front of my own club.

The bitch scrambles away, and the moment that she does, I’ve forgotten her and am moving right the fuck on with my day. I walk toward my office and sit down in my chair, sending a mass text about church being held tonight.

I’m sure there is a collective groan from everyone, but this needs to happen. Now that Bloodhound MC is part of a new equation, we need to discuss it. And I need everyone not only in on what we’re going to do, but I also need them to be completely vigilant at all times. Because it’s clear as fucking day that the Bloodhounds are on the hunt, and I fucking refuse.

The Vicious Reapers are not for sale and never will be. We’re also not up for grabs in any capacity. So I won’t be backing down to any shit they try, and they will not be the victors. Not in a goddamn thing they do.

“Church?” Ivy asks as he walks through the door.

Lifting my head, I watch as he sits down on the sofa across from me. He’s dressed for work, which is surprising, seeing as it’s after hours and he typically changes before he comes here after going to the office.

“Bloodhound MC is starting some shit. Need to make everyone well aware of the situation then talk about Oregon. About who wants to take that on and contact the club over there. But right now, we are not going to be able to send a whole crew there, not with Bloodhound on our backs chomping at the bit for us to fuck up so they can swoop in and start a war.”

“Fuck me,” Ivy grunts. “I didn’t even come here for that, so I think you might get pissed off with me adding more to your plate.”

“What?” I grunt.

“It’s Dakota. She called down to the office.”

Arching a brow, I lean back in my chair and watch him, waiting for him to tell me what the fuck he’s talking about. Tapping my fingertips on the desktop, I watch and wait. He restshis elbows on his thighs, his hands hanging between his legs before he speaks.

“She called and said she wanted to sell everything. Her share in Thunder Security Supply, Shade’s bike, the house, everything. And the contents, she just wants an estate sale and to be done.”

Done.

Interesting.

I didn’t think she was that pissed off.

Placing my palms on the desk, I straighten my legs and stand as I clear my throat. “This is because of Exorcist. They got into a fight today.”

“I heard,” he chuckles. “Prospect told me it was a straight-up battle but that Dakota not only held her own but could have killed her. Not a bad bitch to have on the back of your bike.”

Not a bad bitch, indeed.

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