Page 18 of Bullet

“He’s here.” She gulped a breath. “Two men just pulled in and blocked my car in with theirs. One of them is the guy from the Landing strip.”

Stormy rushed into the living room.

I grabbed my gun off the dresser, stuffed it into the back of my jeans, and followed her.

She peered out the window through the crack in the curtains. “Oh god.” She covered her lips with trembling fingers. “It’s Mars and Emerson.” Panic laced her voice. “He’s found me.”

“Go to my room,” Bristol said. “Leave the door open. It’ll be less suspicious. Stay out of sight.”

“Get back in the tub,” I said and smiled, trying to chase the fear from her wild eyes. “Go. He’s not getting in the house. Don’t panic.”

“With me, any room can become a panic room if you just give me a minute.”

She was feisty even when terrified. She rushed back into the bedroom, kicked her shit under the bed, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Tension coiled in my gut. “Keep it simple,” I said to Bristol.

“What should I say?” She twisted her hair into a ponytail and used the hairband from her wrist to secure it. Her loose tits shifted beneath the worn Heller T-shirt I’d seen her wear a thousand times.

She was the kind of distraction we needed to keep the attention offbrown eyesin the bathroom, hiding in the bathtub.

“Try to tell the truth up until you brought her here.” I shrugged on my cut. The Heller colors would make these assholes think twice about trying to intimidate my girl.

A knock sounded on the door. Bristol went to open it.

“Not yet.” I went to the kitchen and grabbed my cigarettes.

“Bullet,” she whisper-yelled. “Can I get the door?”

The knock sounded again, harder this time. I nodded, and she opened the door.

“Oh, Mars,” she yawned and stretched. “Hi…it’s early,” she said and smiled at the thicker, tattooed guy.

“This is Emerson Barras. We need to talk to you.”

“Okay, let me get dressed. I can be at the club in an hour.” She coyly tipped her head to the side. “You could’ve sent me a text to come in.”

“This isn’t about work.” He put his hand on the door to force his way inside. “We’d like to come in and speak to you privately.”

I pulled it from his hands. “Nah. You can talk from there.”

The guy held his ground. Our gazes locked in a way that a fighter would gauge his opponent. His eye twitched as he glared at me. I might appear relaxed, but tension tightened my muscles, my gut clenched, and adrenaline heated my blood.

I put a cigarette between my lips, flicked my Zippo, and put flame to the tip. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You got something to say to my old lady, you can say it in front of me.”

She smirked at the label I put on her. Old lady my ass. But she rested her hand on my chest. “Baby, this is Mars. He’s one of the new owners of the Landing Strip.”

“You aren’t at work so he can fuck off.” I blew smoke out the door.

“I’m looking for Madison,” the man in the suit said.

Bristol stayed close to me. “I don’t know anyone named Madison.”

“Don’t fuck with us,” Mars said. “The stripper Stormy.”

“It’s okay, baby,” Bristol said before I could shove his teeth down his throat. I didn’t like the way Mars glared at Bristol.

“You two are friends,” Mars said. “Where is she?” The man acted tough. I’m sure he could raisehell, but I wasn’t easily intimidated. I’d spent too many nights in the basement with Rogue.

---