Page 76 of Bullet

Chapter 20

Lynette

When I hear the rustling noise in the kitchen, my first instinct is to text Bullet. I know it’s a mouse. I’ve had them in the house before. This is what comes of only being here on the weekends. I move out. The vermin move in.

I’m currently working on getting Willa’s incorporation documents together so that we can apply for her business license. Bullet and Raiden helped me because I was in a pinch and had zero time, but I didn’t want them to have to do that again. They’re busy enough as it is.

I pause, listening to the scratching noise, my skin crawling. Mice are cute, sure, but they’re better outside, in the wild.

I pick up my phone and bring up Bullet’s texts. Like he always does, he keeps them sweet and respectful. He doesn’t talk club business over the phone. These are personal.

It takes everything I have not to type something sappy like,I wish you were here right now, orWorking late isn’t nearly as much fun without you.

Me: I just heard a mouse in the kitchen. Want to come over and test your trap line skills?

I even include a mouse emoji, but quickly delete it all. Nothing about that text screams strong, independent woman.What the hell is happening to me that I can’t even go away forthe weekend and not miss him? I’m so easily distracted, dreamy, even mopey. I’m pretty much lacking all of my old discipline.

It’s only the middle of October. We’re just a blip on the radar of time.

But following that logic, aren’t all people?

It’s just after ten, but I give in to the ache slowly spreading through my body, sighing as I type the words.

Me: Want to come over? I know it’s late, so it’s fine if you don’t. The weather is okay and the roads are good. I thought you might appreciate a late-night ride. I could have cookies and tea waiting.

And myself.

Naked.

I fire the texts off before I have a chance to think too hard about them. We don’t do this. Sext. We haven’t even said things like ‘I miss you’,or ‘I’m thinking about you right now’.

Geneiva, my neighbor, is twenty-something, I think. She’s not very friendly. I’ve probably only spoken with her twice since I moved here, and her yard borders mine. I don’t know anything about her other than what she looks like. I was carrying in things from the car when she stopped me, calling out my name and telling me that her cat just had kittens and she’s starting the search for good homes early.

I caved and said that I’d love not one, but two. I didn’t even ask what colors they are. I have no idea what her cat even looks like.

The upside is that as soon as those kittens are ready to go, which I guess won’t be for a few months yet, my mouse problem won’t have to be solved with traps. I hate setting them, and emptying them out is even worse. Also, I’ll be here more, working from home, so I’ll have time for the pet I always yearned for.

Maybe that will make up for not being able to see Bullet every day.

Just the thought of it makes my chest hurt.

The noise in the kitchen escalates, a creak and a whisper of the floorboards.

Holy fuck, how big are those things?If I have a rat problem, I’m definitely going to make Bullet drive directly here. Fuck the independent thing. I glance at my phone, disappointed that Bullet hasn’t responded in the two point five minutes since I sent those texts. I can’t even go an hour without talking to him while I’m here. How am I supposed to move back permanently in January?

Another whisper noise and a scratch, this time from the hallway, jerks my head up.

On instinct, I reach for something to defend myself, as if the mouse has brought an army to avenge its slain brethren I trapped a few months ago.

I have an old-school metal letter opener to my left, and that’s what I snatch up, curling it tight into my palm.

I’m about to laugh at myself when a shadow looms in the doorway.

My first thought is that it’s Bullet, come to surprise me, but the shape and height aren’t right. I gasp loudly, fear and adrenaline dumping into my bloodstream in a sickly mix.

I don’t know who this man is or how he got into my house. He must have disabled the security because I never got a single ping on my phone. The club set up extra cameras and kept them up. I dearly hope Wizard caught something and that he knows there’s someone in my home and he’s getting help.

But help is in Hart. An hour away, and that’s only to the edge of the city. It would be more like an hour and a half to two hours.

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