Page 91 of Bullet

Ten minutes later, I rode into the parking lot of the health clinic.

“Our first date was to a BDSM sex club,” she said as I held her hand and walked toward the entrance. “And our second date is to the clinic?”

“If you’re a good girl, I’ll buy you an ice cream cone after.” I kissed her temple.

“After last night, I thought I’d proved I wasn’t a good girl.”

I paused before pushing open the door. “This is for me, Stormy. I’ll wear a condom every fucking time with you, but we’re going to know I’m clean.”

She licked her upper lip, then meshed it with her lower. “Other than Emerson, there’s been no one else, but I want to get tested.”

We were in this together.

Inside the clinic, we gave our names to the medical receptionist sitting behind the counter.

“I haven’t seen you in a few weeks,” she said with smugness. “I missed your smiling face.”

I wasn’t smiling. Her name tag said Rebecca. I wasn’t sure how long she’d worked at the clinic, but she wore the same pink scrubs with milking cows and milk bottles on them every time I’d come to the clinic. I’d been here with all the girls at one time or another. She was always chatty with them, but she’d never spoken more than a few words to me.

“We’ll need to start a file on you,” she said to Stormy, and then she lowered her voice, and her narrowed gaze shifted from me to Stormy. “You’ll want to keep track of your sexual partners.”

I was her only sexual partner.

Rebecca continued. “Did you want to talk to the doctor about contraception? If you want an IUD, the procedure can be done here in the clinic. It won’t protect you from sexually transmitted diseases.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Stormy put her hand on my arm.

“Thank you.” She slipped her hand into mine and led me to the chairs.

I glared at the woman as we walked away.

“I ride a bike, wear a cut, and I’m covered in ink. I’m fucking memorable, and usually not for the right reasons.” I slunk into my chair. “She thinks you’re one of my girls.”

And it fucking pissed me off, not that I had a reason to be. Not that I’d ever given a fuck all what anyone thought of me or the girls. But I wouldn’t have anyone looking down on Stormy, especially not for being with me.

Stormy rolled her eyes. “Everyone thinks I’m one of your girls.” She smiled. “I’m not upset about that, but how did I not know your name was Clay?” she asked, sitting next to me in the plastic chairs. “It feels like we’ve told each other everything, but I didn’t know your name.”

I clasped my hands between my knees. “I haven’t been Clay since my grandma died. Doesn’t feel like my name anymore.”

“I get it.” She leaned against me. “I haven’t been Madison in four months. Before that, I hated being her.”

The words hit hard because it was another thing we had in common. “Why Stormy?”

“Why what?”

“Rogue gave me my road name because I live hard and fast.”

“Mine isn’t a road name.” A soft smile curled her lips. “Stormy is my stage name for the same reason you call me brown eyes. I picked it because of you. Because that night there was a storm in your gray eyes.”

The intake nurse opened the door. “Clay and Madison?”

Stormy’s brow lifted, and we both smiled.

Stormy

After the clinic, we stopped at Cellular Edge.

“Bullet, I couldn’t even buy a prepaid phone at Walmart without an ID,” I said as we walked into the store.

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