Page 55 of Bullet

I swallow back my doubts, but there’s one thing I can’t keep inside. “I don’t mean to imply that you’re insensitive.” I touch my sister’s shoulder, squeezing just a little. She turns, the lingering tears reflecting the sunlight, making her eyes seem a lighter blue than they are. “You care deeply about other people’s feelings. I’m not saying you haven’t thought about what Atlas is going through, because I know you have. You care very, very deeply for the people you get close to. That’s a great thing.”

“You’re worried we’ll get too close and he’s at the place in his life where I’d be nothing more than a rebound, we’d both get hurt feelings, and then being in business together would be a disaster. Or maybe that he’s not thinking clearly and I’m taking advantage of him to do this for me.”

“No. Not that last bit. Being in business with someone is hard. This would be a lot for anyone to take on. We could sit down and discuss contracts and setting up your company together, or with Wizard and Raiden this afternoon when they come to do my incorporation documents. We could ask him if he’d be willing to take on the job of building you a website. Something he could transfer over to you and teach you how to use it when you’re ready.”

Willa was bracing for me to start talking her out of this, but now she brightens. “That’s a really good idea.” She drops her voice, conscious that Bullet is right there in the doorway. “You don’t have to worry about Atlas. Really. We won’t sleep together and complicate things. I promise, he’s just a friend.”

Who am I to lecture my sister when all I think about is getting railed in every position, every way, in every part of this house? I always thought I wasn’t a sexual person, but all it took was a subtle shift in my circumstances and the right manat the wrong timeto cause such a monumental shift.

Willa notices. She grins that signature triumphant grin, but she looks happy. Not just for herself, but for me. “Get the trial wrapped up already. You’re clearly both dying.”

With that, she pours the tea, takes her mug, and walks to her bedroom.

“I’ll put together a business plan up here and be down soon!” she calls from upstairs, voice echoing in that weird way that it seems to only do in old character houses.

It must be the building materials. New ones echo too, but not the same way. It’s not as melodic, not like our voices are joining with history’s ghosts.

Willa doesn’t mind drinking her tea with floaties in it, but I use the small strainer. Bullet comes to pick up his mug, his proximity like slipping into meditation during an earthquake. He sniffs it experimentally and pulls a face.

“Would you prefer Earl Grey again?” I ask.

“Nah, this is okay,” he says and sits down at the table across from me.

I tip my head to the ceiling, searching for answers, but it probably looks more like I’m trying to find patience. “I’d like it very much if this all could work out.”

Bullet rests his hand on mine for a few seconds. He takes it away quickly, as though it’s worse than trying to touch the business end of a cattle prod.

“I’d like that too.” His quiet voice fills up the kitchen. Another trick of the house, or just his larger than life self, magnified still? “I’d like to find out if there’s happiness waiting on the other side of all of this, or as close as we can get.”

Happiness. The elusive myth I haven’t dared to hope for, the dream I haven’t ever allowed myself to visit. Happiness is about as real as a unicorn.

But I’d take anything close, and that’s what Bullet said..

“I’m making no promises about our next steps, but I need to call Tyrant right now.”

“Those were just thoughts—” I start to protest, but he stops me.

“Logical thoughts that should be explored.” I wish we were at a place where he could take me in his arms and offer touch that would solidify his words, but we’re not.

It’s the wishing that’s the most brutal part.

Just like hope.

At least we’re bound together by that common thread. We both hope that this will be over soon, and that we can find our path, whatever that looks like.

I’m starting to shuck off my solitary shell and wish more and more that it looks like six foot three, crazily muscled, wearing jeans and leather, with an epic beard and soft as suede brown eyes.

Chapter 14

Bullet

Iwouldn’t say I’m enjoying myself, but I think that Raven is. He’s Crow’s other personality, and he’s quite…effectivewhen it comes to fear, pain, and violence. Crow has been a member of the MC for years and none of us knew he shared his body with another mind—we just thought he was a moody bastard. Turns out he was just trying to keep Raven under control. It was Raven all along who wanted to take the enforcer position in the club. Now his secret is out, and he’s made peace with his other side, Raven can come out and play whenever he wants to. Reaper, who also shares the role of club enforcer, is also down here.

“You have one minute until I make you sorry you haven’t answered our questions,” Raven threatens ominously. He turns so Donny can’t see his face and winks at Reaper and the rest of us gathered in a crowd around the strung-up man.

The most untouched part of our clubhouse is the basement. Honestly, it’s creepy. Gross. It smells like mold and mildew and one spring, it even flooded. It was a hell of a cleanup. We had to install a new sump pump, and we were all on sewage cleanup for days. The whole place reeked like bleach for a good month.

We don’t store anything down here, and no one ever wants to venture into this place. The fluorescent lights overhead are attached to the exposed beams that support the main floor above. Half of them are burnt out and the other half flicker and gutter.

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