Page 39 of Bullet

Bullet

The house waiting for Lynette and Willa in Hart comes together with a team effort. It belongs to Crow and his old lady. They were kind enough to let us use the house, since it’s a rental and it was empty. It wasn’t furnished, so between last night and now, there’s been a mad scramble and a call to action that involved just about the whole club and all the old ladies, as well as the kids who aren’t in school yet.

By the time we arrived, with Lynette and Willa’s cars packed full, the house had been transformed. Beds, couches, curtains, table and chairs all appeared as if by magic. Someone even managed to lug a grill over here and a set of patio furniture.

Though Lynette’s been up since six, and Willa since eight, both of them have been full of energy since we arrived. Lynette was greeted by a few of the old ladies, Ella and Lark she knew, but some she didn’t, while Willa pretty much made immediate friends with everyone. Lynette was more reserved, but her shy smiles cut straight through me, lodging in the meaty part of my chest where I guess emotions burrow in and hunker down. One genuine smile from her was like a thousand words of praise and hearty laughter from anyone else.

I guess there’s a whole lot more locked away inside me than just her secret smiles and laughter, but she clearly wanted to pretend that last night didn’t happen.

I’m trying to help inside, but the guys have the heavy lifting handled and the old ladies are more than capable of setting upwith Lynette and Willa. I’m more in the way than helpful, so I step outside onto the deck to see if there’s anything out here I might actually be needed for.

I’m immediately sorry.

The yard isn’t exactly sprawling, but it is large. All the lots are bigger here than they are in Seattle, unless you’re a millionaire or bought your house sixty years ago. There are a few shady trees that no doubt dump all their leaves as soon as the first frosts hit, making an ungodly mess, but right now, they’re still green and sun dappled, musical in the gentle late afternoon breeze.

Tucked up in the corner, along the far side of the tall white fence, under one of those massive trees, are Jodie and Atlas, and if I don’t miss my mark, the conversation they’re having isn’t a happy one.

I’m two seconds away from slipping back into the house before they notice me, begging Wizard to let me help him install those extra security cameras on the inside and outside of the house, but Jodie raises her voice, stopping me before I can turn.

“I’m just done, Atlas.”

I’m definitely not supposed to be here, but part of me immediately digs in, getting defensive, wanting to go to the aid of my club brother. Jodie and Atlas are young, but they’ve been together for a few years now. He met her in Seattle at a club. She was a dancer, and he fell immediately in love, stealing her away, putting her on the back of his bike, and entrenching her in this life.

Atlas is a good kid. I mean, he’s twenty-something, so I guess not a kid at all, but he’s got that innocent aura about him. He’sHollywood gorgeous, born and raised in Hart, so he’s more of a smalltown, hometown boy.

“If you can’t have kids, then you’re not a real man.”

I can’t see either of their faces well because they’re angled close together, but the harsh tone of Jodie’s voice raises the hair on the back of my neck. I sure as fuck don’t approve of her treating our boy this way.

I step over to the swing someone brought over, with the flowered awning on the top, and sink down into it. It’s right in the corner of the deck, by two large cedar trees that I wanted to chop down immediately on seeing them because they offer a good hiding place for someone to creep back there and hide.

I’m still there a few minutes later when Jodie storms right past me into the house, slamming the glass sliding door.

Also not a feature I’m impressed with. Every horror movie has a scene featuring one of those damn doors.

I get to my feet and walk slowly across the deck. The boards are worn and sun faded, but not sagging or unsafe. It supports my weight without creaking, and the stairs are just as solid.

Atlas hasn’t moved from the corner. He’s turned away from me, but even still, there’s no mistaking the way he swipes a hand across his eyes repeatedly.

I clear my throat to give him some warning, but when he spins around, he doesn’t even bother to wipe his wet cheeks.

He figured he was in love with Jodie from the first second he saw her. He has the purest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. Something almost fatherly stirs to life in me, though I’ve nevertreated any of the guys in the club that way. I’m not cut out to be a parent. An older brother, maybe.

Seeing those wet, silvery streaks glistening on that beautiful face of a man who looks like a sun god from any myth, with his golden skin and mane of blond hair, undoes me. I’m the last person that should be offering comfort.

“I heard some of that,” I admit awkwardly.

Atlas just nods, then his head goes limp, falling forward in shame. The impulse to have one of the old ladies drag Jodie out here to apologize is strong.

“I was born with the wrong parts. I mean, shit, not like the wrong parts. I have the parts. I just don’t have a vas deferens.”

“A what now?”

He motions to his groin. “The tube thing that lets the swimmers mix with the jizz.”

For the love of all things anatomy, we are the last people who would ever be able to teach a medical class to anyone.

“She wanted kids right away,” Atlas explains, swiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. “We’ve been trying. We both went for an exam a few days ago, when it wasn’t working. It’s been a year, and doctors get involved when it’s not happening. We got the call right before we came here. I’m the problem. They had to ultrasound my junk. It’s basically like I was born with a vasectomy.”

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