Page 4 of Bullet

“Mystupidlaw degree puts a roof over our heads and has for years, along with the two jobs I worked to make sure we got through after Mom died. It saw to her funeral costs and bought her burial plot. I haven’t spent a cent of that money on anything other than law school, because I knew once I got through, I’d have enough money to pay for you to go to college, which I’ve been trying to get you to do for two years now. You’re going and that’s final, or you’re out of here.”

“You promised Mom you’d take care of me,” Willa whines.

“I’ve done that, but now I’m coddling you and it’s clearly not working. You’re taking advantage of it and making terrible decisions. College or find your own place. You choose.”

“All because I asked you to defend Bullet, because that’s your stupid job?” she snaps. She shakes me off and snatches up her phone. I didn’t realize she’d set it on the nightstand, like she was going to spend the night in here with me.

“My job isn’t the least bit stupid. Your behavior is silly and childish.”

“Some days, I hate you,” she seethes, and if looks could kill, I’d be done and dusted right here where I stand.

“Come on, Wills. We all have to grow up. We have to take responsibility for ourselves and our lives.”

“Just like you? All dried up at thirty, humping dusty old law books?”

I carefully mask my hurt. “Not just like me. You can set your own path. I’ll take you to college and we’ll get it figured out. It’s only a week away from September, but I’ll pull strings, or we’ll find somewhere that still has openings. You can choose what you want to study. And I don’t hump law books. They’re expensive and they’d get wrecked that way, for goodness’ sake. If you’re going to be insulting, at least be logical about it.”

“Do you even listen to yourself? Miss Goody Fucking Two-Shoes?”

How ironic. Willa is the one constantly calling me a boomer for using old sayings. “I do hear myself. I hear myself offering good, sound advice, trying to make good on a promise that I’ve had to spend the last twelve years honoring.”

“Being sisters is a lifetime commitment, bitch,” she snarls, baring her teeth at me like an animal.

“I wish you’d take that to heart,” I say sadly, in a rare moment of vulnerability.

Of course, Willa chooses not to see it. “Fuck you, Lynette.”

“Yes, fuck me, but we’re still going to get you registered somewhere first thing Monday morning. I have some meetings, but I’ll cancel them.”

“Cancel meetings for little old me, like I’m actually important?” Willa shoots back unfairly.

She knows I’d do anything for her. I’ve proven that time and time again. She just doesn’t like that I’m done giving her endlessfreedom. I never believed in censorship or prohibiting someone from doing something. I know those are just guarantees that they’ll do it more. I’ve never tried to keep Willa from having experiences. I might have been tasked with looking after her, her legal guardian for eight years of her life, but I know I’m not her mother. I have never once tried to be our mom. Those are impossible shoes to fill.

I dig my fingers into my sore eyes. “It’s the middle of the night. Just let me get some sleep. If you can’t go to bed, use this time to do some research and some thinking about your future.”

The worst part about Willa’s temper is that when she’s really mad, she likes to be destructive. Her eyes sweep my room, trying to find the perfect thing to break to show me just what she thinks about me dictating and deciding her life for her.

“Out!” I point at the door. My face must be truly fearsome, because she obeys somewhat meekly.

The only thing she flings is her middle finger in my direction before slamming my door so hard that the whole house shakes.

Chapter 2

Bullet

Ihad a feeling I’d need the business card that girl produced out of the bottom of her purse last night. Worn and wrinkled, it had the look of something either discarded or well loved. It wasn’t clear which it was.

I have it between my cuffed hands now.

It’s not just the biker in me who bristles at being caged like this. It’s the soldier. I spent the better part of my life, certainly the best part of my life, fighting to keep this country safe, only for these pricks to look at me like I’m the lowest filth.

It only took those bastards about four hours to show up at the motel the club has rented out. Of course, we were expecting them. I informed Tyrant and Raiden of what happened as soon as I got back, which took longer than I would have liked because I had to ride in a goddamn cab after the whole goddamn altercation over a goddamn babysitting job gone wrong.

I’ve been all over the world, and I’m really starting to hate Seattle.

I worry my thumb repeatedly over the already frayed edges of the thick cream cardstock. It feels more like fabric than paper, like a pair of jeans so washed and lived in that they’re buttery soft to the touch. The wear has caused the print to fade, but not so far that it’s unreadable.

Lucky for me, because I needed it to make a call when I got here.

---