Page 35 of Wild Night

It’s the last thing I want to do, and I hate the fact that I’m suggesting it to begin with. It doesn’t feel like it’s the right move to make. The man inside of me wants to run to California. I want to claim my woman and slay her fucking dragons.

I want to let my control snap and just go with my baser instincts alone. I don’t do that. I’m more controlled than that. At least I should be. I’m a fucking attorney. I’m a fucking member of the Vicious Reapers MC. I cannot let a woman make me lose my control.

So I fight every fucking urge inside my body to go after her.

Even though that is all I want to do. I want to run straight toward her, rescue her, and bring her home. I don’t do any of it. Sinking down in my desk chair, I lean back and look at the ceiling for a moment before I shift my attention back to Piggy.

“Let’s start with what Posey’s financial situation looks like. I think that will be the easiest way to know what her involvement could possibly be,” I begin.

Thankfully, I have access to a credit check program for potential clients and research purposes. It doesn’t take me long to look up Posey’s information and, at the same time, to discover that she is indeed not on the take. Unless she’s squirreling cash away, this woman is doing her job and nothing more.

“She looks clear to me,” I murmur.

“I couldn’t find anything on her. Not even a parking ticket. For all the bullshit she’s had in her life, I think this woman is much like Dakota. Shit circumstances and trying her fucking best to get out of them.”

Well, it’s good to know that she’s not in trouble with the law. But what we need to figure out is how the winery and her supposed husband are involved in all of this.

“Who are the people running that winery?” I ask.

There is a moment of silence, and I watch as Piggy’s fingers slide across the computer keyboard of his laptop. Then he clears his throat before he lifts his gaze to meet mine. I’m not sure how to read the expression on his face, but when he shifts in his seat uncomfortably, I know that whatever he’s got to say cannot be good.

“Unfortunately, her boss is not as clean as she is. He’s got a rap sheet a mile long. Clearly, every single item points toward a criminal syndicate. Don’t know what he’s involved in—cartel, Mafia, no fucking clue. Doesn’t really matter at this point.”

“What do we do?”

He flicks his gaze to meet mine. “You want to wade in on this?” he asks. “You gonna claim her as your old lady?”

“She’s Dakota’s aunt,” I state.

He snorts. “Yeah, she is, but you know as well as I do if I called you about Aunt Suzie, the club would not wade in with this kind of operation.”

I know he’s right. Bullet might want to just because she’s all Dakota has, and it would make her happy. But Bullet isn’t here,and we don’t even have all the information. We’re piecing shit together, and it is not looking good.

“I can’t go there and deal with it myself. I have three cases right now that need my attention. I have to be here for them.”

He looks down at his feet, then slowly lifts his gaze to meet mine. “Want me to call the closest club or see if there’s a nomad? Bullet would be cool with that.”

Piggy is right. Bullet would be cool with that. I’m not sure what the right move is here. She left. She didn’t ask for help. But at the same time, I’m not sure she knows what the fuck she’s walking into.

“I’m going to call the club over there,” I say. “Maybe they know more about this winery and the people running it.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

POSEY

I’m notsure how long I’m out, but when I wake up, the room is bathed in darkness and I’m alone on the bed with the sheets covering me. The towel is gone, and I’m naked. Lifting my hand, I touch my head. My hair is still damp and a tangled mess. I can’t even run my fingers through it without it getting caught and pulling.

Gripping the sheets at my chest, I slowly sit up. I don’t know what the hell is going on. Why would Lucian choke me and then place me in the bed, covered up completely?

This is some mindfuck stuff that I have no desire to understand, except this is my life, so I’m going to have to figure something out.

“You’re awake,” his smooth voice murmurs.

Even though the room is dark, my eyes have adjusted, and I shift my attention to the corner where he stands. I hadn’t felt his presence. This is concerning because he was sitting there watching me, and I didn’t realize it.

“What is going on?” I ask softly. I have to ask softly because my voice is gone. He literally choked it out of me.

“You tell me,” he snaps. “You ask for a divorce. I come home to you, and then you take off to North Carolina and shack up with a motorcycle gang?”

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