Page 67 of Bullet

“Raleigh’s going to stay here with it until Hawk gets here with the van. Then they’re going to finish the run,” my dad answered before closing the back door.

He came up to my window and I rolled it down. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“Follow me. There’s a clinic that has a doctor on our payroll.”

Of course.“Okay.”

“Don’t let your brother die,” my dad said as he backed away.

No pressure or anything.

My dad and I sped to the clinic, which was in downtown Laughlin. We pulled into the back, where a man in a doctor’s coat was waiting for us. At least my dad was prepared.

The doctor helped my dad get Jameson out of the back and into the clinic. I followed them inside as they took my brother to an exam room.

After getting Jameson settled, my dad and I were asked to sit in the waiting room while they performed surgery on Jameson’s leg.

Several hours passed before the doctor came back out and told us that Jameson would be okay. The tightness in my chest finally eased for the first time since getting the call from my dad. I blew out a breath of relief. “Thank God.”

My dad and the doctor were talking about the surgery and recovery time, but all I could think about was that my brother could’ve died because of the Suicide Kings.

Anger replaced my fear and concern. I told my dad I was going to head home since we were assured Jameson was going to be okay, but I was really going to confront Ford.

I got in my car, and the iron stench of blood hung in the air. Tears pricked my eyes as my adrenaline finally wore off, and the severity of the situation sank in.

I whipped out my phone and hastily typed a text to Ford.

Me:We need to meet now

He quickly replied, which surprised me.

Ford:Everything OK?

Me:No

Ford:I’m at my place

Me:omw

I quickly sped to Ford’s place, thankful no cops were around to pull me over for breaking multiple traffic laws. When I pulled into the driveway, Ford came outside.

His face was creased with concern as I got out of the car and stormed up to him. “What’s wrong, kitten? Are you hurt?”

Shoving at Ford, angry tears streamed down my face. “What the hell, Ford? Why did you put a hit on my family?”

He frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. “The fuck you talking about? I didn't put a hit on your family.”

I scoffed, pushing him again, even though my efforts did nothing. He barely budged. “Oh yeah? Then, why did my brother almost bleed out in my back seat from a bullet from one of your men?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn't have anything to do with that.”

I was beyond furious and knew I wasn't thinking clearly. To me, everything Suicide Kings equaled Ford since he was their president and called the shots. How could he not know what was going on?

I flew at him, my fear and anger overcoming me as I pounded at his thick arms. Sobs escaped me as I thought about my brother unconscious in the hospital bed, his normal golden skin pale from blood loss.

Ford gripped me by the wrists, stopping my assault. “Quit your shit, Dixyn. This wasn't me.”

Struggling against him, I screamed, “Let me go!”

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