Page 31 of Bullet

I rake my eyes over his face even though I shouldn’t, and my thoughts tumble into nonsensical territory. Is that what happens when your sister tells you that you need to get laid and gives you the stamp of approval that you seriously did not need?

Which reminds me, Willa is still on the line.

I promised I’d drop a pin, and instead I’m sitting here like a total teenager with a crush on the first bad boy she’s ever seen. I quickly do the pin thing, even though I have to look up how to actually send it. Thank god for other people’s screenshots and the internet.

“Got the pin,” Willa says. “I’m fifteen minutes away.” She’s quiet for a little bit, but she can’t hold out forever. “Bullet? I’m sorry about the false alarm.”

“Don’t be sorry. Nothing to apologize for. We’re glad you’re okay. We’ll get this all figured out eventually. As soon as Tyrantand Raiden get back to the club, they’re calling church. It’s for officers only, and still might be early enough that half of them aren’t drunk at Patterson’s and can sit through it and actually remember what they’re hearing.”

“Are you going to that meeting?” I ask, my eyes flashing to the front of his leather jacket.

I think I read in the police file that he’s not an officer, but really, how the hell would they even know that? There are plenty of patches there, but none like the ones I noticed Tyrant and Raiden had on their jackets that denoted their rank.

“No. That makes me free to come stay the night at your house and keep watch, and to help you pack up and get to Hart tomorrow morning.”

I want to argue. I truly, truly do, but the fight has all gone out of me.

Then there’s the fact that Willa is hearing all of this. “Yes!” she yells. “Yes, please do that. Linny would love it if you did that. She likes big beefy, macho men around to keep her safe. And you know, I’d appreciate it too.”

Bullet’s lips twitch, but he has the good grace not to goad me with a full-on grin. His eyes sparkle. I’m sure it’s not the headlights.

“Is that decided, then? Are you coming to Hart? I’m not trying to pressure you. Just need to know what to tell my prez so the club can get the house arranged and ready for you.”

“Are there any hot, single bikers at the club who are closer to my age?” Willa asks. “My sister has designs on you already and she won’t let me meet any zaddies.”

I want to bare my teeth like an angry mother bear and sink down into the seat in complete mortification all at the same time.

Bullet, thankfully, takes the opportunity to shove his hands in his pockets and walk away from the car, whistling to tune anything else out.

“Bullet?” Willa asks.

“He’s gone,” I sigh. “It was the talk of zaddies that drove him off.”

“Lies. It was the foul, obscenely scary looks you no doubt gave him. When you get protective, you look like an alien is about to burst out of your chest.”

“Oh my god.” I rest my head against the seat. “I do not.”

“Five minutes.” Willa’s good at changing the subject. “You better get ready to give me the hugest hug ever. I really need that right now.”

“I’m ready. I need it too.”

Bullet rejoins the other men, talking to them in a tight huddle. I stay in my car, never feeling more like an outsider, or so curiously safe.

When the sweep of her headlights on Willa’s signature bubblegum-pink station wagon pull off the freeway and turn into the rest stop, I’ve so relieved that it takes everything I have not to break down into a sobbing mess. Her headlights bounce off the stretch of land beyond and flash off the two blue porta-potty bathrooms. The stop was made for tired people to take a break. It’s not scenic in the least.

Willa’s door whips open at the same time as mine. She runs, launching herself at me, hitting me so hard that she nearly winds me. She braces me with her arms locked around my back, her head immediately hitting my shoulder. I’m so much taller than her, and slimmer. She’s the athletic one, and her firm hold keeps me from stumbling in my heels.

“I see why you wouldn’t be a hard person to follow.” Bullet’s rumbling tone is laced with humor.

“When I saw it, I had to have it.” She pulls away, beaming.

Willa’s resilient like that. She’s always come through the worst shit, able to smile so readily after. She’s not like me. She doesn’t have the memory of an elephant and the temper of a lion.

The bright pink car seems to complement her vintage floral blouse and the wild bellbottoms she’s wearing. She loves vintage, but she goes all out for her shifts. It’s her uniform, of sorts.

“It wasn’t even for sale. We were just driving by, and I saw it. I made Lynette go knock on their door and offer to buy it. I’d just gotten my license, and we were looking. It’s not fancy and it’s not new, but it’s been well maintained.”

“At least it’s an import,” Bullet snorts.

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