Page 41 of Bullseye
“It was.”
“Then, why do I feel sick every moment of every day?”
“Because you’re a good person.” He sighs heavily. “Why not stay where you are? That’s what they want. You’ll be safer.”
“Will I? Or will they hire a Dog to kill me, just to be safe?” Shaking my head, I stare at the ceiling. “I have to run, Johnny, because I’ll never stop fighting for my brother. He doesn’t deserve to spend his life like this.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
Right now, I know what I have to do.
“Thank you, Johnny. And remember, no matter what else happens, thank you for everything you’ve done for me all these years…”
“Sen? Sen, wait.”
I hang up.
Sitting on my make-believe bed in my pretend apartment, I sigh. This is no life. Living so that I can take off at a moment’s notice, never making connections so that I can cut and run, pretending I don’t care so I can keep those I love alive...
Mikey and Tony have stolen two lives—Matt’s and mine. And frankly, it’s time it ends.
Looking around my apartment, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror hanging inside the open coat closet. Standing, I look myself over, from head to toe.
“Time to be a big girl, Sen,” I mumble. I wanted to be independent, so here’s my chance.
I’m through running.
“You want me to stay here and let my brother rot away, so you can run free to torture and murder more people?” I ask an imaginary Mikey and Tony.
“Well, fuck you, boys. I’m not staying put. And I’m not going to quit until he’s free. I know you’re guilty, and he’s not. And one way or another, I’m going to prove it.”
Nodding at my reflection, I understand what I’m up against. It will be me, alone, fighting off two low-level punks and their drug-dealing boss.
Three against one.
Staring at my reflection, I see the woman I have become—punk hair, too many earrings, a kick-ass body trained to be a lethal weapon, and a heart that willneverquit. Hell yeah, three against one sounds like just about the right odds.
It’s almost as if the dimly-lit apartment is bathed in some magical white light, making everything finally clear. The hell with running and waiting around. That’s gotten me nowhere.
I’m going back to New York to hunt down Matt’s attorney, give her whatever money I’ve managed to save, and stir up some trouble. That’ll draw them out. Like rats off a sinking ship.
Then, I’ll take those two thugs and beat the answers out of them.
And that’s why they call me Wildfire.
Chapter Eleven
Bullseye
Standing in the parking lot of the hospital and staring at her fender and taillight as her bike speeds away, a sharp pain shoots across my chest. Reaching up, I rub it away.
Why the hell is she acting like this? Even though I have no business making it so, last night was way more than a one-night stand. She even called me, “her guy” today. And damn, I liked it.
The way her beautiful gray eyes filled with desire when she looked into mine, the way she held onto me, passionately—with her arms around my shoulders and legs around my hips—clinging to me like she was taking her very last breath…
Hell yeah. She felt it as much as I did. So what the hell is going on?
Glancing at the main entrance of the hospital, the doors open and close with annoying regularity. People go in broken and come out fixed. Why the hell can’t I do that for Seneca? Why can’t I help her through whatever this is she’s going through? Why?
