Page 60 of Wild Ride

“Sure,” I say. He shakes his head once, his lips curved up into a smile. “Shall we go inside?” I ask.

The men are at my back just as I hear bikes approach. I don’t even have to look behind me to know that they’re the other men who have been called here to help us. Other Vicious Reapers men. And they are here.

“Get Dakota covered and to safety,” I call out. Turning my head, I look over to Razor, who is standing at my side. “And get that little fucker, Ralph. I want him front and center for this shit.”

“Yes, Prez,” he says, then he turns and walks away. I don’t watch him go, too frozen by his word,Prez.

Never did I think that I would ever become the president of Vicious Reapers, let alone the president of the original charter. I thought being vice president was as good as it got. I honestly never imagined I would have been voted in as VP, and now I’m the president.

It’s so fucking bittersweet. I want to be happy that I am here, that I have worked my way to the top, but I can’t be because the only reason that I’m here is because Shade is dead. Focusing my gaze on the building in front of us, I begin walking toward the clubhouse.

The bikes behind me come to a halt, killing their engines, and no doubt are at my rear, ready to support me in any way I ask them, mostly ready for gunfire, though. I would be a liar if I said that I don’t want this to end in gunfire. I do. I don’t even give a shit if they answer any questions.

I don’t have any more.

I just want them dead.

Every single one of them.

I stand in front of the clubhouse for a moment. Walking in there is, without a doubt, signing a death warrant. And I haven’t even asked my woman if she’s okay. But she was fucking naked running out here, so I’m going to go ahead and go with she’s not okay.

So they all must die.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

DAKOTA

I should probably be embarrassed,but I’m not. I don’t really care that all these men saw me completely naked because they were my saving grace. My knights on steel horses. They rescued me from a life that I absolutely wanted nothing to do with—from hell.

Just thinking about being married to that man makes my skin itch. I wouldn’t have done it. I would have figured some way out of it because there is no way I was going to just accept that fate.

The man I ran to ushers me over to the pickup truck, then he reaches in and produces a shirt. I don’t know where it came from, and I don’t care, either. It’s going to cover my body, and right now, that means everything.

There’s also the simple fact that I’m happy to be away from the whole damn bunch. I don’t know who those men were. I know what they want, but I don’t know who they are, and I’m more than happy to be away from them all and never come back.

I’m also beyond grateful to be covered because as glad as I am to be found, I’m also very aware that I am, indeed,naked. Once the shirt is over my body, I close my eyes for a moment, sucking in a deep breath and welcoming the soft fabric against my skin before I turn to face the man behind me.

“I’m Viking,” he announces. “I’m the road captain for the Reapers.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I whisper.

His lips twitch into a smirk. Before he says anything else, he looks over his shoulder and then shifts his attention back to meet mine. “We should get out of here before shit really pops off,” he murmurs.

I can’t imagine what else could possibly pop off, especially after hearing that gunshot and knowing that someone is dead. Likely the asshole who was chasing after me. And while I know that I should be swimming with guilt that someone lost their life, I’m not. That guy was going to hand me off to the devil himself with a smile.

Good riddance.

Letting out a heavy exhale, I look up into Viking’s face. Searching his blue eyes with mine, I can’t help but wonder how this tall, massive man standing in front of me seems more like a gentle giant and less like a scary badass biker. I open my mouth and then snap my lips closed. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say.

“We can stay here if you want. Doesn’t matter to me. We can sit right here in this truck.”

Looking over my shoulder, I watch the scene playing out from a distance. There are more bikes than I remembered seeing a few moments ago. Men are milling around, but I don’t see Bishop anywhere.

Swinging my gaze back to Viking’s, I ask him a question instead of answering his. “Where is Bishop?”

“Bishop?”

Shaking my head as if I can gather my thoughts a bit better by doing that, I continue. “Bullet. I meant Bullet.”

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