Page 75 of Wild Ride

She shakes her head once, then brings her bottle of beer to her lips again. She takes a pull, her eyes never leaving mine. They’re searching my gaze, no doubt trying to get a read on me. She can look all she wants, but I have my walls up, and she’s not penetrating those—in any way.

“I don’t. And my opinion and stance haven’t changed. They won’t change, either. I hate that it’s come to this, but not every person you meet is supposed to stay in your life forever. I helped her during a time when I needed healing as well. She doesn’t know it, but just her being with me, it saved me.”

This shit is fucking deep for a night when I wanted to relax, enjoy a few beers, and lay my woman. So, instead of deepening the conversation, I give her a smile and a wink before I speak, and I ensure that my words are final, closing the topic of conversation for the rest of the evening, if not the rest of our acquaintance.

“Honesty is important. So I’ll be honest with you, too. I love Dakota. I’ll fight for her, however that looks. Sucks you can’t accept me, accept her father, because this club was Shade. It’s who he was. But we’re all adults, so we’ll just agree to move forward.”

Briana’s eyes hold mine for a moment longer, not breaking contact before she blinks and shifts them to the table, to the beer in her hand. I watch as she inhales a deep breath and then lets it out slowly.

Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything else. Viking walks up to the table, and the conversation is finished. He’s a presence allon his own. Dakota lets out a sigh and curls against my side, her face nuzzling my throat.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” Briana announces.

“I’ll walk you,” Dakota quips, jumping to her feet.

I should keep her on my lap, but I can tell that Viking wants to have a conversation, so I let her go. Dakota doesn’t walk away immediately. Instead, she dips slightly, touches her lips to my cheek, and whispers that she’ll be in bed… waiting.

My cock twitches at the thought.

I want to watch her walk away, but I don’t. Instead, I shift my gaze to Viking. His eyes follow the women. Then he shifts in his seat. I’m not sure why, but he appears nervous, and that bothers me greatly.

“Viking,” I warn.

He lets out a heavy sigh, shaking his head a couple of times before he speaks. I can’t imagine what the fuck he’s going to say, but when he does, my heart races. This is not what I wanted to hear. This is not what I thought he would say.

“The main wholesalers are out. They were only hanging on by a thread with Ralph. He was about to lose them all, probably why he was more than panicked, especially when the Bloodhounds kept wanting more shit.”

“Fuck,” I hiss.

“You’re going to need a couple more beers for the rest of this one, brother.”

I make a two-finger motion for more beer. Thankfully, since it’s a quiet night, the prospect sees me and sets four beers down in the middle of the table.

After jerking my chin in thanks, I look over to see if anyone else is still sitting at the table with us and realize that Maverick and Goose have dipped out, likely because they spotted a whore they wanted to bang.

Bringing one of the bottles to my lips, I take a long pull. I’m not sure this beer is going to be strong enough for what he’s about to tell me. I can tell just by the look on his face that he does not want to say the words that are about to pass his lips.

Thankfully, he doesn’t make me wait long.

“Our buyers are not going to be happy,” I warn.

“No,” he agrees. “They are not.”

Bringing the beer to my lips again, I take another drink. I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but I need details before I freak the fuck out. I start to warn him again, but I don’t need to because he continues speaking.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what other companies in Singapore can get us what we need. It’s becoming increasingly difficult.”

“Why?” I ask.

He shrugs a shoulder, bringing his own bottle to his lips before taking a long drink. Liquid courage or some shit, I’m sure. Nobody wants to tell their president that they can’t get shit handled after we’ve already burnt the fucker who was somewhat handling it to a crisp.

“They don’t want to deal with us any longer. I have a conference call with a company out of Hong Kong. They usually transport goods to Norfolk, Virginia.”

I run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends. “Fuck,” I hiss. “That’s not what I wanted to hear.”

“It’s not what I wanted to hear, either,” he admits. “Especially when we’re supposed to be doing a shipment soon. I’m hoping this call will rectify everything.”

I hope so. Standing, I clear my throat. “You’ll update me when you know more?” I ask.

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