Page 1 of Bulletproof Love

PROLOGUE

I was never meant to be saved.

Wandering aimlessly,

A broken, bleeding heart.

But you—your touch ignites my veins,

A new addiction I never expected,

A feeling I can’t explain.

Control is your mask. Chaos is mine.

Unwilling or unable

To surrender what we’ve become.

We circle this city,

Hearts shrouded in armor,

Bulletproof against the world.

I’d end it all to keep you safe,

So pull the trigger, Trouble,

And watch me bleed for you.

CHAPTERONE

JASPER

The chillin the air has my shoulder aching like a son of a bitch. It’s stiff as hell, even after going through those stretches Blake swears will help. I’ve been trying to lay off the painkillers despite what a certain platinum-haired brat may think.

Really, I have. Her side-eye and sass pisses me off too much to not at least give it my best go.

Unfortunately, the cravings are winning tonight. I can deal with pain; it’s been a constant in my life since I started playing football in high school. Does it fucking suck? Hell yes. But it reminds me that I’m resilient. I’m still alive and kicking through every hit, every concussion, every broken bone. Getting shot brought my threshold to another level, though. All those movie action heroes make it look so easy.

Back in college, I was able to take a pill or two the first couple days after an injury and never think about them again.

But that was before my sister vanished.

Before my world shattered like a city hit by nukes.

My life was ground zero. My own personal apocalypse. Bailey was gone. Getting shot was the excuse I needed to surrender to the sweet bliss the pills provided. I could be numb. Forget the pressure from my parents. Tune out the guys and their constant planning. Even suppress the guilt that weighs me down each time I realize I’m not doing enough to find her. Nothing will ever be enough.

Nausea roils my gut as I make my way to the meeting point. We’ve only been living in the city for a couple weeks, so I’m no expert, but the night seems unusually quiet. It makes the skin on the back of my neck prickle in alarm.

My footsteps echo against the cracked pavement as I open my phone to double check the text. My memory’s been shit lately. That coupled with the move has made it exponentially difficult to get around. But it seems I’m heading in the right direction.

A gust of wind rattles the loose metal fire escape on a graffiti covered building nearby. The sound is like a warning bell in the night. I pull up my hood and keep going.

Stop being a pussy. This will be the last time.

It has to be.

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