Page 53 of Wild Ride

“Grow the fuck up and act like a goddamn adult or find your ass turning tricks on the goddamn corner for scraps of food and a rent-by-the-hour motel.”

Picking up my phone, I stand from my seat and turn my back to her. I walk away and head toward my bike. I know that Dakota told me to wait, but something is gnawing at me to see her, to check on her, to fuck her.

It doesn’t take me long to ride there. Shade may have had his own little slice of paradise, but it was close enough to the clubhouse that he could be here in five minutes if need be.

Which is about how long it takes me to get to his place.

The sun has already set, but I see Dakota’s rental car in the driveway and ride up beside it. I throw my leg over and disengage before I make my way into the house. The door is closed but not locked, which is the first thing that I notice is odd.

I move farther into the house but stop when I am in the living room. Looking around and listening, I try to make out a sense of where she is in the house, but I hear and see nothing. Something is off. The air, the deafening silence, something.

Calling out her name, I start to move through the house room by room, but I don’t find her. Everything everywhere is empty. My feet move faster with each passing moment, and when I go outside to the metal building that is the man cave, I expect to see her there, but she’s not.

Taking my phone out of my pocket, I find her name and call her as I move back into the house and hear her phone ringing in the living room. I move closer to the noise and look down to see that it’s on the floor.

Reaching down, I pick up the device and frown at the sight of it. Then, as if some invisible force draws my gaze to the kitchen counter, I see her purse there.

What the actual fuck?

Where is my fucking woman?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

DAKOTA

Slowly,my eyes open, and I look around, but I don’t move any part of my body other than my eyes. I’m lying on a mattress, but other than that, I have no clue where I am, why I’m here, or who brought me here. I’m not about to let them know I’m awake yet. Not until I can gather my wits about me. Not until I at least figure out if I'm alone or not.

I hold my breath as my gaze flicks around, but the room is dark. Even as my eyes adjust, I can’t make anything out. There are no windows, no light spilling in from beneath a door. There is nothingness, almost as if I’m in a void.

“You’re awake,” a deep, gruff voice grunts.

I hold my breath for a moment, trying to gauge where in this space the voice came from, but I have no idea. I’m also completely panicked because not only is my sense of sight gone, but the rest of me also feels very lethargic. I don’t know where I am, who has me, or what’s happening. I’ve never been so confused in my whole life.

My brain is racing, my thoughts moving so quickly that I can’t even really comprehend what I’m thinking. I feel out of control, and as I attempt to catch my breath, I feel the tears well in my eyes, threatening to spill down my cheeks.

“Name’s Grudge.”

I’m not sure what the hell that means. I don’t ask him, either, mainly because I don’t give a shit. Instead, I wait for him to continue, hoping he’ll give me some kind of reasoning as to why he drugged and kidnapped me.

Thankfully, he continues to speak, and I don’t have to wonder any longer. It doesn’t mean that he’s not a complete psycho, but at least I don’t have to guess as to what his plans are. Why he took me and what he is going to do with me, or rather what he hopes to accomplish.

“Your father is dead, and his club is unstable,” he begins.

I want to scream at him that I have no idea about any of this. I didn’t even know my father, so what the hell kind of part do I personally play in all of this? But I don’t say a word because my brain is moving so fast that I don’t think any intelligible words would actually come out. I’m grateful he doesn’t expect me to say anything because right now, I have absolutely nothing.

“I could play with their supply chain for a little longer, but I’m already bored with doing that. I don’t want just their supplies. I don’t want just their buyers. I want the whole club on a national level.”

Still, none of this means anything to me. Not a damn thing. Instead of telling him that, I continue to stay quiet. He clears his throat. Then I feel his hand on my ankle. His fingers curl around me there, and as much as I want to jerk away from his touch, I don’t.

I stay perfectly frozen on the mattress, which I have a sneaky suspicion is likely dirty and gross. I have no idea because it’s so dark in the room, but I’m envisioning the grossest thing ever. Infact, my skin now feels itchy as my mind begins to wonder about the condition of this windowless room.

“The fastest way to get them to do what I want, the way I want it, is through you,” he murmurs. “The princess. You’re the most valuable thing they have right now, other than money.”

“I’m not valuable,” I whisper, finally able to string a few words together.

Those words don’t help my situation at all. In fact, I think it makes it worse because he lets out a loud guffaw, almost as if he finds this hilarious in some way.

Nothing about this feels funny to me.

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