Page 10 of Bullet

I’ve never told anyone except Willa the full story, and at the time, I had to word it in a way that an eight-year-old could comprehend. It was the worst thing I’ve ever done.

“I feel for everything that happened to you, but I’m confused as to how you think I correlate to either of those men. The club is nothing like that. Most of my club brothers have families, every single one of us has a job, and we would never put our women in the line of fire. I think that if you’d just come and—”

“I’m not going anywhere.” It takes everything I have not to pick up this now cold coffee and throw it in his face.

I hate that I feel his grief for me. Words are easy and cheap. Why should he be able to say them and drill them down so deep into me?

He scrubs a hand over his face, coffee forgotten. Even he can’t pretend to like this swill. “You’ve been a mother to your sister. You practically raised her, but she’s braver than you. Bolder. She’d come.”

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare threaten my sister!” I barely keep my leg from sweeping back and nailing him in the shin with the pointed toe of my shoe.

“I’m not threatening anyone,” he states gruffly, suddenly loosening his posture as if to prove it. “I’m just saying.” He sighs, oddly human. It has to be an act. Isn’t it always? “She doesn’t judge a person the same way you do. She doesn’t find them guilty before they’ve even committed the crime.”

“You’ve committedmany, I’m sure. Don’t insult my intelligence by sitting there and telling me that you haven’t. You getting my sister involved in this at all in any way is a crime.”

I’ll take Willa to every damn college in this city if I have to, until I get her enrolled. I do realize how ironic it is that if I want her to stop the partying and the irresponsibility, that putting her in a college atmosphere is higher risk, but it’s the only thing I can think of. Plus, I want her to go. She’s so smart. She’s wasting her life at that vintage clothing store she works at. She’s so much more than just clothes, boys, and bars. I wish she could see that.

I’d make her see that.

“And should I need you, would you come? As my lawyer?”

I have no idea what he’s talking about. We’re going in circles, and I’ve basically said all I’m going to say. It’s clear that this is a man who knows he’s going to be fine. He trusts that his precious club will throw money at the situation until it goes away, like they no doubt have done every time in the past.

But every time in the past wasn’t like this.

I should be meeting with his overlord. Boss.President. My research this morning dove just deep enough that now I unfortunately know some biker lingo.

Hamish is a big boy. He can relate the details himself.

“That won’t ever be necessary.”

I stand, a clear signal that this conversation is finished. I have a life I need to resume. A whole pile of work waiting for me at my office, and now more, because of this. Meetings to reschedule so I can get Willa settled Monday morning. I’m so ready to be away from this man and the strange magnetism that shimmers in the air around him.

“You don’t have many friends, I’d guess, if any at all, Lynette George.”

Okay, fuck it. I’m bathing him in coffee.

He traces the path of my gaze and carefully picks up the coffee cups, rising to set them on the counter, instead of throwing them away, because mine is still full.

I should storm out the door, but I unwisely stay right where I am, letting him stroll right up and give me another tongue lashing.

“You control yourself so well, because that’s what you think you should be. Controlled. Professional. You’ve carved out that persona, and you’ve done it so well that you’ve lost sight of who you are.” His eyes burn into me, seeing far too much. “Maybe that’s because you’d like to forget. It’s easier. Once you decide something, that’s it. Nothing will sway you. You’re above criticism now, above things like humanity, mistakes, happiness, fun, and love.”

He’s trying to goad me, all because I wouldn’t agree to go see his stupid biker club. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction, though a sharp pain rolls through my stomach with nauseating intensity.

I snatch up my bag and slip the long strap over my shoulder. “You know what else I’m above, Mr. Aberdeen? Letting myself slip into villainy and darkness and excusing myself for it.”

I mean to have the last word, to leave him with that parting shot and hopefully not see him again until September goddamn twenty-third, but his lips curl into a lazy, insolent, self-deprecating grin that is absolutely maddening.

I turn on my heel and storm towards the door, but his words reach me just as my hand pushes against the metal bar to free myself from this place and this man’s horrid presence.

“It’s not that I excuse myself for it,Lynette George.” My full name. Again. Rich and decadent on his sinful tongue. “It’s that I quite enjoy it and have no desire to be anywhere else. If that makes me a villain in your mind, or in the eyes of the law, then so be it.”

Chapter 4

Bullet

Ican’t say this is even fucking original, but it is goddamn heartbreaking. This might not be the first building we’ve lost to someone’s petty vengeance, but this one happens to belong to me personally.

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