Page 57 of Wild Night
At this point, it’s a need, not a want.
It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her, and I don’t know what the fuck she’s gone through, but what I do know is that I’m angry with myself for not going to her the second I discovered she was gone.
A knock on my door causes me to pause. As much as I want it to be Posey on the other side, I know the likelihood of that being the case is not possible. I would say there is an absolute zero percent chance of that happening.
When I check the peephole, I am shocked to see Dakota standing there alone. I didn’t even know she had my address. I assume Bullet told her. I open the door then step backward to let her through.
Dakota gives me a small smile and slips into the house. “Wow,” she announces as I close the door behind her.
Turning around, I look at her, tilting my head to the side, and wait for her to explain to me why she’s here… and why she’s herealone. But she doesn’t seem to be overly concerned with that. She’s too busy looking around my house.
“I thought you would be more of a modern aesthetic kind of guy,” she says.
“Got not a fucking clue what that means,” I say.
She spins around, her eyes find mine, and her lips twitch into a smirk. “You’re a liar. You, of all people, know what that means. You’re just being an ass.”
I do know what that means. I also am being an ass. So, she’s right on both accounts. “I didn’t decorate it. Most of this shit was my parents’. When they retired and downsized, I got it all, and so whatever it is, it’s my mom’s style. It’s all comfortable.
“So traditional. I like it,” she says.
My lips twitch. “Glad I could please you.”
Dakota rolls her eyes to the ceiling, then lowers them and connects with my own. “I’m not here to look at your house.”
“Figured as much.”
She inhales a deep breath, holds it for a moment, then lets it out slowly. I watch her, wondering what the fuck she could unload on me, but it seems like whatever it is, it’s going to be big, and I can’t help but brace myself for the impact of it.
“Is Posey okay?”
I blink, unsure if she’s going to ask me a question or say something else, but she doesn’t. She watches me, waiting for my response. My brows snap together, and I clear my throat as I attempt to think of what to say.
“What do you want to know, Dakota?”
She slides her tongue along her bottom lip, her eyes focused on mine. Those honey eyes that I know so well, exactly like Posey’s. But she’s not Posey, and that’s who I want standing in front of me, not her. Not Dakota.
“I want to know if she’s okay. Is Posey safe? Her car is sitting there at the clubhouse. She promised me she would be herewhen I got back. She’s not here, and Bishop isn’t telling me shit. All he says is everything is good.”
As much as I want to sit her down and tell her everything I know, Bullet didn’t tell her for a reason, and I’m not going to fuck with that. He’s my president, but he’s also her husband, and Posey is their family. As much as I want to claim her as my woman, she is actually their family. I have to respect him.
“I can’t tell you anything more than what Bullet’s given you.”
She narrows her eyes at me and lets out a huff of air. “I knew you wouldn’t,” she grumbles. “I wanted to try, just because I’m so worried. I’m seriously stressed about what could have happened to her.”
Instead of turning her away, which I’m pretty sure is exactly what I should do, I motion for her to sit in the living room. She walks over to the sofa and sinks down on the edge of the cushion, her knee bouncing.
I sit down in one of the club chairs kitty-corner to her. “I can promise you that she is safe,” I begin. Her eyes widen, but I continue, ignoring her hopeful expression. “She has a guard, although she doesn’t really need it. It’s just for Bullet’s peace of mind and respect for our club more than anything. Hopefully, she’ll be back here soon.”
I’m not sure if she’s satisfied with my answer, but that’s all she’s going to get from me, and it’s probably more than I should have even offered. Dakota stands, sliding her palms down her thighs, then shakes her head.
“This boys’ club is bullshit,” she states. “But I have to admit I feel better knowing that you guys have my back. Even if you’re assholes.”
“Assholeis such a strong word,” I say, trying to keep from laughing.
She rolls her eyes again, then turns away from me and walks toward the door. I guess she got what she came here for, andshe’s ready to leave, but then she stops at the door and looks over her shoulder at me before she turns to face me completely.
“Do you love her?”
