Page 92 of Wild Night

IVY

I walk outof the office but stop in the hallway, closing my eyes as I listen to Bullet kill that piece of shit. There is no screaming, just a gurgling noise, which I know is the end of his life. I should not smile, but I do. My lips curve up into a grin at the sound of Barry Scott’s life ending.

When it’s done, Bullet opens the door and steps out. I’m leaning against the wall, my body too fucking tired to hold itself up. Turning my head, I look over at him. His eyes meet mine, and he jerks his chin before he speaks.

“It’s done,” he murmurs.

“But is it?” I ask.

He gives me a grin. “As far as we know. We’ll go out to his apartment, take a look around, but I think it’s done.”

I’m not sure if it is. I want it to be, because it should have never happened in the first place, but the fact that Hazzard was involved at all threw me for such a loop that I’m not sure what the fuck really happened.

The deal I got for Barry Scott was the best-case scenario. He shouldn’t have been this fucking pissed off about the whole thing.

“So what happens now?” I ask.

Bullet shifts his eyes down to his feet, then slowly brings his attention back up. His gaze searches mine for a long moment. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but since he’s my president, I wait out of respect. He may be one of my oldest friends, but he will always deserve my respect.

“Now we figure out the rest of the story. Because fuck this asshole. And as much as it pains me to say, fuck that bitch. I didn’t know she showed up at your place.”

I run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends. I need to go to my room, to my woman. I need to celebrate our baby, our relationship, and our new life. I don’t feel like we’ve had a single minute to ourselves. I’m not even fucking sure if we’ve had a whole day without something happening.

“Let’s get to his place before something happens,” Bullet announces, pushing off the wall.

As much as I want to tell him to kick rocks, I follow behind him, heading straight for his pickup truck. Climbing into the front seat, I let out a groan as he starts the engine. I’m not sure I want to do all of this, but at the same time, I know it needs to be done.

Bullet turns toward me as he shifts the car intoReverse, but he doesn’t back up yet. Instead, his eyes search mine for a moment before he speaks.

“You good?” he asks.

I don’t know what the fuck I am. But good would not be the word I would use to describe myself right now, or ever, really. Pressing my lips together, I let out a sigh.

“I’m good enough,” I state.

“That asshole and his sister tried to kill you.”

Shaking my head, I turn toward my brother. My brother. My eyes connect to his. Neither of us speaks immediately. “They did,” I agree. “But they didn’t succeed.”

“They didn’t,” he agrees with my words.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I think about that, about his words. They may not have succeeded in their plans, but they still did some shit. A bunch of goddamn shit, like almost killing me. The only good thing about any of this shit is that they never came after Posey.

“She wanted more, I think. Hazzard, that is.”

Bullet shakes his head. “Unfortunately, that seems to be the case with the clubwhores.”

As much as I want to say that it’s all unwarranted, I’m not sure it is. We fuck them, we flirt with them. They are part of our world, brought into our fold. Trusted as much as anyone could be. And then they betray us.

I don’t know why we keep letting them do it. They’re whores. The sex is good. The fucking without feelings. Except they seem to catch goddamn feelings. I don’t know how to fix this. I’m not sure there is even truly a fix.

Do we tell Lolita to build a wall, to remember her place, a spot that she should already know where she firmly stands? Do we tell Ice that she’s nothing but a lay? Remind all of them exactly who the fuck they are? Because it seems they’ve forgotten.

Completely fucking forgotten.

“Do we need to gather them all up and remind everyone of their place?” I ask.

“I think we might.”

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