Page 10 of Taming Bull

“I asked if there was a trial, but the guys didn’t know.”

Desperate for more information, and grabbing onto this flimsy thread of information with both hands, I pulled up a web browser on my phone. “Do you know her name?”

“Nope.”

Dammit. “When did it happen?”

“I’m guessing shortly before your situation, Lily.” Stocks’s eyes softened as he gave me a supportive smile. “Some asshole in his squad mouthed off about it to Bull, and he put the dipshit in the hospital. That’s how Bull earned himself a dishonorable discharge and ended up here.”

How had I never learned of this? Bikers gossiped worse than most of the girls in my high school, but nobody had said shit to me about Bull’s past. Of course, I hadn’t thought to ask them, knowing how close they all were. “Do you know which college she attended?” I asked.

“Nope. All I know is what I told you. And Zombie and Buddha were pretty plastered, so I’m not sure how much of it is true.”

Thinking, I tapped my cell phone to life. “If they were high school sweethearts, she must have been from Shiner, too.”

“Shiner?” Monica asked.

“Bull’s hometown. It’s in Texas, kinda between San Antonio and Houston.” I was having a hard time with the idea of Bull having a high school sweetheart. He was mine, dammit. No other woman was supposed to have his heart. Especially not a dead one. Did he still love her? Is that why he warded off all my advances? How the hell was I supposed to compete with a ghost?

“And you know about Bull’s hometown, because…?” Monica asked.

Typing in the year of her death, town name and ‘college girl suicide,’ I started my search. “He goes home for Christmas every year. I wanted to see where he’ll be taking me after he finally succumbs to my advances and admits we’re destined to be…” The rest of the sentence died on my lips as a picture of Amber Kent appeared on my screen. Suddenly, all my dreams of a life with Bull came crashing down around me.

“Lil?” Monica asked, her tone concerned. “The blood just drained from your face. You’re even whiter than normal. What’d you find?”

My lips moved, but no sound would come out. All I could do was stare at the image and silently curse the universe. What horrible thing had I done to deserve this? Reincarnation had to be real, because I must have been a mass murderer in another life. Bull’s reluctance to give me a shot finally made sense. No wonder nothing I’d tried had worked. How painful was the sight of my face for him? How could he even stand to be around me? Everything clicked into place. Now armed with all the information, I fully understood that I’d been fighting a losing battle.

It didn’t matter what I did, the man I was hopelessly in love with was forever out of my reach.

“What?” Stocks asked. Reaching over, he slid the phone out of my hand and spun the screen around so he and Monica could see it. “Oh. Holy shit.”

Yes. The holiest of shits.

Eyes wide, Monica looked from the phone to me and back to the phone. “Ohmigod. Bull’s dead girlfriend is your doppelgänger.”

Yep. My life sucked. I dropped my forehead to the hard wooden table and silently admitted defeat.

3

Bull

EVERY FRIDAY NIGHT, the Dead Presidents held a weekly meeting referred to as church. Unless your ass had a rock-solid reason for missing it, attendance was mandatory and the business we discussed was considered sacred. Unlike other motorcycle clubs, we didn’t participate in illegal shit like running drugs or guns, but we still valued privacy and followed basic club protocol. Nothing said within the walls of our chapel left the room, an assurance that made it easier for brothers to share ideas and air grievances with abandon.

This room was where the club had first voted to do whatever it took to find struggling veterans.

A lot of impromptu therapy had taken place within these walls.

A couple fights had broken out.

Once, I’d even fallen asleep in a pew, waiting for brothers to work their shit out so the meeting could be released. Nobody left until everyone could shake hands and walk out side-by-side, like brothers. It felt a lot like a giant, barely functional family.

I’d grown up in a small family. Dad managed a warehouse, and Mom volunteered at the church. They were solid people who worked hard and prayed harder. I was a good kid who did what I was supposed to do, and they mostly left me to it. I loved and respected the hell out of my parents, but we never really connected.

My relationship with my sister wasn’t any better. Four years my senior, she never wanted to leave the safety of our small, familiar hometown and couldn’t understand my dreams of joining the Navy and sailing around the world. Now happily married, with a baby on the way, we couldn’t be further apart if I lived on the fucking moon.

Shit was never supposed to be so strained between us, but Amber’s suicide, and my reaction to it, changed everything.

My carefully planned four years of service, travel, and self-discovery before I settled down with my high school sweetheart to start my own family came to a screeching halt. I couldn’t see past the insults hurled at my dead fiancé by a man who was supposed to be my brother-in-arms. Unable to cope with losing her, I tried to kill him and landed myself in the brig. My refusal to apologize and get my shit together got me tossed out of the service on my ass. No matter. I had no regrets, and if I ever saw that motherfucker again, I’d break more than a few ribs and an arm.

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