Page 15 of Bullet

“The MC is out of the trouble business.”

“Just talk to her. I got a little of the story, but she’s on the run. Trav sold the club. Pretty sure the new owners are on the shady side.” She cracked eggsinto the pan. “Stormy recognized one of the guys. She didn’t say it, but I think they’re mafia.”

I turned my head and blew my cigarette smoke out the window. “I don’t need this shit, Bristol.”

“Listen, don’t think I don’t remember what happened with Wrench and his asshole club brothers and the Hellers.”

That shit was on me, too. I’d put Bristol in the middle of our war with the Crawlers. A dark night for the MC. Jazzy had killed her first man. Hana had killed another. I didn’t think Blade ever told her the man she’d stabbed in the neck had bled out before I had the chance to finish him off. Even Levi had gone to war.

Bristol slid into the chair next to me. “She’s scared, Bullet.”

“I don’t want you around this shit.” No way was I taking the risk. I leaned forward and stared hard into her eyes. “That night at the warehouse, it wasn’t just Hellers, Crawlers, and cartel.” While the cartel was moving their drugs, guys in suits were moving merchandise. “We’re out clean. I’m not fucking with the mafia.”

“Maybe you could just hide her for a few days, wait for whatever has her freaking out to settle down, then we can help her get out of town.” She went back to the stove to flip the eggs. “I feel bad for her. She should have been on Dancing with the Stars, instead she’s dancing at the Landing Strip.”

I shook my head and leaned back in my chair. “I can’t.” I tapped ash from my cigarette. “I’ll help her get out of town.” But the club had come too far to risk bringing the mafia down on us.

A few weeks ago, some assholes had come into my massage parlor and escorted one of Clover’s regulars out the door at gunpoint. Fucking mafia, fucking Crawlers, fucking cartel, I was done with all of them.

I took a sip of coffee and smoked my cigarette. Bristol’s shoulders stiffened as she cut up a melon. “Just talk to her.”

“I did this morning when she bitched about my invading her personal space.”

“I need to apologize to her.” She wiped her hands. “Not only because you fucked me with her in the bed, but I told her I’d help her. I also told her you weren’t a dick.” She set the bowl of fruit on the table. “I’m not normally a liar.”

“I’m good with being a dick if it keeps you safe.”

“Good morning.”

I turned at the soft voice from the doorway. Jeans hugged her slim hips, and a V-neck T-shirt draped her small frame. She wore runners instead of heels. She was compact with lean muscle, but with soft, feminine curves.

“Hi.” Bristol grabbed a mug from the cupboard. “Do you want coffee?”

Stormy nodded and sat across from me at the table. Her gaze refused to meet mine. She’d seen the steel bar through the head of my dick. Now, she stared at the piercing through my left nipple and the ink on my chest.

“I’d ask you how you slept, but I’m afraid of your answer.” Bristol set the cup of coffee in front of her. “Sorry,” she said with a pinch in her brows and aremorseful smirk on her mouth. “I told you, no willpower. Can I make it up to you with breakfast?”

Stormy picked up the mug with both hands and brought it to her lips. “Thanks.” She absently went to tuck her hair behind her ear, then pulled her hand away. “I had some time to think, and I decided it’s best if I just take off.”

“No. Stormy, you have to wait at least a couple of days. Stay here.”

Stormy’s gaze darted to me, but she quickly looked away when she found me staring at her profile.

“I heard you talking, and he’s right. I don’t want to make my problem your problem. I’ll be fine.” She pushed her cup away. “I’ll gather up my things. I’ll stay for breakfast, but then will you give me a ride to the bus station?”

“If you’re sure.” Bristol leaned against the counter, and her gaze shifted from me to Stormy.

Stormy stood from the table and smiled. “Yeah, I’m good.”

As soon as she was out of the kitchen, Bristol slapped her spatula on the counter. “You’re really going to let her walk out of here?”

I snarled.

“Bullet, she’s in trouble.”

I stubbed out my cigarette. “You’re a pain in the ass.” I pushed out of my chair. “I’ll go talk to her.”

“Thanks, baby.”

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