Page 54 of Bullet

The low, unmistakable growl of that same sixties Mustang rumbles up to the house.

My eyes shoot straight to my mom’s watch, which I’m never without, unless I’m showering. It’s only been an hour since Willa left. At the same time, holy shit, how has anhouralready gone by? It felt like we were in here for no more than ten minutes, venturing further down this crooked path. I’m starting to feel more like a detective than a lawyer.

Bullet and I both leap up at the same time.

“I didn’t think they’d be back already. I know they were just going to familiarize themselves with the college’s layout, and it’s small, but that was fast.”

“We’ve been in here for a while,” he responds, just as astounded as I am at how much time has passed.

The front door opens, and Willa’s cheerful voice fills up the house. Bullet gets there first, like he’s afraid the door opening poses a threat. “Hey, Bullet. Where’s Lynette?”

I appear behind him immediately. Willa gets this sheepish look when she’s done something bad, but it’s always edged with smug triumph, because she knows she’ll be able to talk her way out of it.

The car rumbles away from the house and Bullet moves back from the window. Willa takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen. “Sit down, Linny. We’re going to talk over tea.”

“It’s that bad?”

“I just have a craving for jasmine this morning. Let me make it.” Bullet is still in the living room, trying to give us some privacy, I guess, but she calls loudly. “Do you want tea, Bullet?”

“I suppose I might.” His footfalls seem to shake the house. He stops in the kitchen doorway, filling it out and leaning there like he’s stuck.

Willa gets the kettle boiling and tosses enough leaves in the pot to make the tea strong enough to put hair on our chests, as my mom used to laughingly joke when she’d tell us to eat something we didn’t want to, like onions. Bullet stays in thedoorway, surveying the situation to be certain there’s no trouble, but clearly wanting to give us space.

Willa leans against the counter, that sheepish expression back on her face. “Atlas and I talked as we walked around the campus this morning, and he mentioned that Hart has quite a few old warehouses like the one the clubhouse is in.”

“Okay…” And here I thoughtmymind was hard to follow.

Excitement traces Willa’s face. “Yeah. So, we might have left and driven around so he could show me them. I found the perfect one! Oh my god, it’s so beautiful. He said he has the money to buy it! He’ll be my landlord, and I can open the vintage and antique store of my dreams!”

I study Willa without narrowing my eyes, trying to keep my emotions off my face. I need half a second to think before I speak.

“I want to do this,” Willa presses. “IknowI can do it. You always told me I’d find my thing in life and when I did, nothing could stop me. This is it. I want to go picking and stuff. I miss working in Seattle, but that never felt like it was going to be it for me. I learned so much about everything old, about sourcing, and about sales, that I know I can do this. I’m sorry. I know you’re pissed, and I promise I’ll pay you back for my tuition.”

“It’s just a few months.” Finally, I’m able to make words. “Can’t you go until December and then start your business? You could use that term to purchase the building and make repairs or set it up. Source your items. You’d have to work around school and studying, but I’m sure you could do it.”

Willa’s doubts flash across her face, but there’s also a heady dose of incredulity. “Are you serious?”

“Did you expect me to shit all over your dreams and tell you no?”

Yeah. That’s exactly what she thought I would do. Hurt wells up like a spilled bottle of syrup slowly leaking out, sticky and messy. I have never tried to crush Willa’s dreams. I’ve only ever wanted to guide her and keep her safe.

Willa’s face softens. “I guess so, but only because I know how much you wanted me to go to college and everyone spent so much effort and money on it. I never thought you’d support this.”

“If you’re passionate about it, then you should do it. Maybe, in time, you could hire some staff and go back to school or take night classes, if you feel like you’d want to continue your degree.”

Willa has always cried so easily, over everything. She has a lot of emotions, and she feels them deeply. Sometimes, she’s so overwhelmed by a single emotion, it brings her to tears. Other times, it’s a combination of many different things.

The tears start coming, dribbling down her cheeks. I shoot up and hug her without hesitation. I know she’s crying because she’s happy, and that makes my heart full.

“I shouldn’t have forced you to enroll in college when I knew you didn’t want it.”

“I know why you did it,” she sniffs. “I’m sorry about the partying and the sleeping around. It’s not so much that I was doing those things, but doing them with a complete disregard tomy own safety. None of it meant anything, and I know you just wanted me to be okay.”

“Yes.”

Willa wipes her eyes when I let her go, then pours the water into the large brown teapot we brought with us.

“The thing is,” Willa mutters as she reaches into the cupboard for mugs, her back to me. “I know it would mean me staying here in Hart.”

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