Page 52 of Wild Ride

“How can I help you?” I whisper.

His lips curve up into a grin. He’s got a gray, scraggly beard, dark-black eyes, and some skin spots that appear questionable. But what he doesn’t have is that Shocker loving-grandpa vibe. No, this man is, without a doubt, a monster.

“We’d like to have a little chat with you.”

I open my mouth to tell them that I would rather not, but no words come out because something pinches the side of my neck, and everything slowly fades away. Or maybe it fades away quickly. I’m not sure because time seems to become a thing of the past, and then there is darkness that surrounds me before there is nothingness.

BULLET

Sitting at the bar, I stare at my phone and watch as each minute passes by without a call or text from Dakota. I’m trying to give her the space she needs to do what she wants to do at Shade’s place, but it’s fucking hard not being with her.

If we weren’t on shaky-as-fuck ground, I would go back over there, fuck her as a reminder of how I make her feel, then throw her on the back of my bike, bring her back here, and fuck her again.

“You know,” a voice purrs next to me, “I could make you smile.”

I don’t even have to look to know who that voice belongs to. I know exactly who it belongs to. “Not interested,” I grunt.

She hums, her lips touching my neck. She does not remotely turn me on, but any touch can cause a physical reaction. Mineis a mixture between hate and my cock twitching beneath my jeans. Stupid fucking dick. It’ll jump at anything resembling feminine sexuality.

“Are you sure about that?” she asks, breathy as fuck.

Turning my head, I look into her eyes. “Not. Interested.”

Her gaze narrows, and I watch as anger contorts her otherwise pretty face. “So you’re going to sit here and wait for her to call you? What’s she doing tonight that’s so important she can’t come and take care of her man?”

Exorcist’s words come out angry and full of jealousy. It’s at this moment that I realize Dakota was fighting over me, sure, which totally boosts my ego, but she was also fighting for herself because Exorcist thinks she’s got some sort of claim on me, maybe even every guy here.

She has no claims.

Not a single fucking one

I watched the video of them fighting about a dozen times. It was clear that Exorcist was the aggressor, but it was also very fucking crystal clear that Dakota could hold her own if need be. But she shouldn’t ever have to, not when it comes to me and this club.

“Let me remind you for the last fucking time,” I grind out, my eyes focused on Exorcist’s. “Dakota doesn’t fucking exist to you. She is on her way to being an old lady, and for all intents and purposes, to you, that is exactly what she is. Even if she wasn’t an old lady, she is family. To you, family does not fucking exist.”

She opens her mouth, no doubt to spout off some shit that I do not want to hear—ever. But I shake my head, shooting that shit down. She closes her lips, her eyes feigning a doe-eyed expression.

Clearing my throat, I press my lips together before I speak again. Every word I say is intentional.

Exorcist needs to know her place. In fact, I’m pretty sure that all the whores do. There haven’t been kids and old ladies in this club since before they came in, so maybe they’re just ignorant of how this shit works, but she’s about to find out.

“Do not fuck with Dakota. Do not look at her. She does not exist to you. If you cannot keep your fucking distance from her, then you will be out on your goddamn ass. I want to be very fucking clear when I say this. You are a whore. You are paid well and protected, but you are a whore. Don’t forget that.”

She opens her mouth, then closes it again. She doesn’t know what to say, stumped for fucking real, and I almost laugh because this shit is comical. These whores have been running around thinking that they’re our girlfriends or some shit, and I’m fucking over it.

Although, had I not met Dakota, I wouldn’t have even noticed, so maybe a little of this is on me, but I won’t ever actually admit that. In fact, I’m going to lay the blame on Shade. He’s not here to defend himself and was president much longer than I have been.

Yeah.

This is his fault.

“And when I say you’re a whore, I mean you spread every fucking part of your body when you’re told and like it. Nothing more, nothing less. Your opinion here doesn’t matter. You are a combination of orifices.”

“How do you want me, master?” she asks.

Shaking my head, I lift my hand and pinch the bridge of my nose. I know that she’s being a smart-ass, but I’m fighting every urge inside of me not to backhand her to drive my goddamn point home.

I don’t, though, mainly because she is Vicious Reapers’ property and I’m not someone who fucks up my own shit. And also because even though I never had the best examples in theworld as far as parents, I did in Shade. And he taught me that you don’t ever take your anger out on the weak.

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