Page 100 of Bullet

His lips on mine conveyed more than words. His mouth was hot and possessive. His hand collared my throat, but his touch chained my heart to his. Tears built in my eyes. Before they could fall, the kiss was over.

And then he was gone, a shadow disappearing into the darkness beyond the light coming from the MC. I waited until the rumble of his bike faded into the distance before wiping my eyes and going back into the chapel. I’d laugh and pretend the man I’d fallen for hadn’t just ridden out to kill the man who would rather see me dead than with anyone else.

Chatter filled the room. I took the seat next to Blue. He winked, and I smiled.

“My turn,” McKelle said. I didn’t know her well, but she was beautiful. Blonde hair draped to the middle of her back. She combed her fingers through her bangs.

“This one is for Stormy.” Blue drum rolled on the table.

“Okay,” McKelle said. “In a celebrity threesome, who would you include?”

I considered for a moment. “Benjamin Millepied and probably Channing Tatum.”

And they all stared.

“You know who they are, right?” I asked. “They’re dancers.”

Levi’s brows pinched. “We get Magic Mike, but who is Benjamin Millepied?”

I grabbed my new phone and pulled up an image from the browser. But as my phone went around the table, a nervous tingle rippled through my belly. What if Bullet sent a text? The phone felt like a security blanket. As soon as it was back in my hand, I clutched it close.

And then checked it like an obsessed stalker every five minutes. People danced, laughed, and ate. Whenever someone asked about Bullet, Blue was quick with a reply. A little over an hour into the party, Sherry and a couple of other ladies came in with a birthday cake.

Blue’s phone pinged with a text. His eyes snapped from me to his phone. His thumbs skated over his screen as he sent a follow-up text, his knee bounced, and his face pinched with worry. Something was wrong.

He slid from his chair. Without drawing attention, we made our way to the hall.

“What is it?” I asked. “Is it Bullet?”

“I gotta go.” He paced. “Fuck. I need to go.”

I opened my bedroom door and shoved him inside. “What is it?”

He slapped his palm against the wall. “Fuck.”

“Blue, if you don’t want to see me lose my shit, you need to tell me what the fuck just happened.”

“It’s not Bullet.”

Relief nearly took me to my knees, but then a spike of fear hit my chest. One of the other guys. Vega or Kodiak? Bullet needed them. “Who?”

Blue laced his fingers behind his head. “Just don’t talk for a minute. I need to think.”

“You need to talk,” I snapped.

“Stormy, I need you to keep this a secret.”

“Keep what a secret?”

“Just give me a minute.” He pressed the call button on his phone. “Fuck.” He held his phone as if he were going to hurl it across the room. “Voicemail.” His fingers flew across the phone.

“What is it?”

“It’s not Bullet or whatever this situation is. A friend needs me.”

“Then go,” I said.

“I can’t. I gave my word to Bullet. I can’t fucking leave.” His gaze locked on mine, his eyes pleading for something, but I wasn’t sure what. “Kiss is in trouble.”

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