Page 3 of Bullet

My grandfather was part Cherokee, and my dad and brothers took after him more than I did. I was more fair-skinned but had the dark eyes and hair of my heritage. My brothers and father had the beautiful golden skin, onyx hair, and warm brown eyes.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, my eyes burning with tears. After a few seconds, I choked back a sob, finally losing the battle with my emotions. My dad took me in his arms as I cried, murmuring calming words until my sobs settled to nothing more than a few sniffles. He might have been a dangerous criminal, but he was always there for his family, no questions asked.

And I would need that desperately in the foreseeable future.

Gently pushing away from my father, I wiped my face. Embarrassment heated my cheeks from the sudden display of weakness. I prided myself on being strong and self-sufficient, and I rarely cried, especially in front of other people. I composed myself, sitting up straight as he continued to rub my back. “Did he suffer?”

My dad's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed deeply. “No. He died on impact.”

I nodded. My dad hadn't given me many details when he'd called me to let me know about the accident. I probably wouldn't have heard him even if he had due to the overwhelming grief that took over when he first told me. “What happens after we release his ashes?”

He leaned back, taking a swig of his beer. “I'll say a few words, then we'll do the last rev before heading back down for the wake at the Colorado Belle.”

A smile curved my lips; I knew my grandpa would be pleased with the arrangements. “Sounds good.”

We talked about more of the details of the funeral and wake before the interrogation about my life started. “So how's LA been treating you?” my father asked.

I shrugged. “It's not what I thought it would be, but there's definitely more going on than here.”

“Any big gigs yet?” Raleigh questioned.

My failure sat in the pit of my stomach like a ball of lead. “Nothing worth mentioning. I haven't caught my big break yet.”

My dad smiled affectionately. “Well, they don't know what they're missing.”

I let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah.”

“How long you in town for?” Jameson asked, changing the subject.

I avoided their gazes, focusing on the water in my glass. “I was thinking about staying a while.”

A smirk tipped the corner of my dad's mouth. “Stay as long as you need, Dixie girl.”

“It's good to have you back around.” Raleigh grinned, ruffling my hair.

I smacked his hand away with a chuckle. “Hey, I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm not afraid to kick your ass now.”

My dad and brothers roared with laughter. “I'd love to see that,” my dad commented.

We talked more about the plans for the following day before reminiscing about my grandpa. As the night went on, I'd almost told them everything several different times, but the words caught in my throat. I didn't want to get my family tangled up in the disastrous web of my life, but I had nowhere else to go. And my biggest fear was that my past would catch up to me—no matter how far I ran—and the people I loved would get hurt because of me.

The next morning was a blur. I made breakfast for my dad and brothers before we went to prepare the venue for my grandpa's wake. Jameson and my dad set up a large portrait of my grandpa next to his cut. After finalizing the details of the wake with the event coordinator, we went home to get ready for the funeral.

As I curled my hair, my phone rang. Matteo's name flashed on my screen, and my stomach clenched in fear. Dammit, I didn't even think about getting rid of my phone before coming home. How could I be so stupid?

I needed to get rid of my phone and fast. And I didn't want it to be traced to my dad's house, so I had to dump it somewhere else.

Rushing downstairs, I called out to my dad, “I'll be right back. I have to take care of something.”

I left before anyone could protest or question me. I drove to where the Colorado River met the California border and tossed my phone in the water. I'd worry about a new one later.

Staring at the water, I sighed as a small weight lifted off my shoulders. I couldn't believe I was stupid enough to get entangled with someone like Matteo, but I'd been desperate at the time.

My shift was almost over as the devilishly handsome man walked in with his entourage. Suit tailored to fit his sculpted body, designer watch and jewelry, dark hair slicked back; he looked like the powerful boss from one of the mob movies. His dark eyes met mine as the manager approached him, then quickly ushered him to the VIP section of the lounge.

His eyes remained on me as he talked with the manager, who nodded as he glanced over at me. He waved me over, and I held my head high as I sauntered to the group, maintaining eye contact with the handsome man. I could tell he had money, and I needed as much as I could get to pay my rent the next day.

My manager introduced me. “Dixyn, this is Matteo Alvarez. Whatever he wants, you give him, you understand?”

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