Page 105 of Bullet
“Goddammit, Harlee, calm the hell down,” Reaper yells.
I watch in horror as the guys carry Bullet inside and to Evelyn’s medical room.
He was so pale.
“Tell me he’s alive,” I plead, begging for anyone to answer me.
Evelyn pauses as she moves to pass by. “I’ll do everything I can.”
When she fades into the clubhouse, I drop to my knees, bawling.
This is all a bad dream. This can’t be happening. Not to my Jacob. He’s too good. He’s too pure to die so young.
Reaper lets go of me and moves to comfort Natalie.
“Harlee, baby…” Dad says softly.
I look up at him and glare when I see he’s approaching me like I’m a wounded animal.
“What happened?” I demand.
Panic crosses Dad’s face.
“Dad…”
“Harlee,” Reaper says, making me look toward him. “We infiltrated Dansworth’s property. While we were moving to get your friend out, Bullet was stabbed by someone who was missed in the shuffle.”
“Someone who was missed in the shuffle?” I repeat.
How the hell does that happen?
“Unfortunately. We were successful in getting Adalyn out of there safely. She has been taken to a safe house for the time being.”
“I don’t give a fuck about Adalyn. I want to know how you guys missed someone and Bullet might pay the price with his life!” I yell.
“Leave us,” Dad tells them.
“Honk,” Reaper warns.
“I got this, Reaper. She’s my fucking daughter,” Honk tells him.
I look down at my hands and see that I’ve drawn blood from my nails digging into my skin. I hear the shuffling of footsteps moving away from me, but I don’t look up.
Because if I look up and see the sorrow on their faces, I’ll lose it.
“This is my fault,” Dad says quietly as he moves to sit on the ground. Close enough but just far enough out of reach.
“What happened, Dad? I need to know.”
“They paired us together, and I was angry. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I got distracted. When I was moving down the hall to find your friend, he was trailing behind me. A guy came out of nowhere and stabbed him. I killed the guy, but it was too late.”
I cover my mouth as I sob.
Bullet. Not my Bullet.
“I’m sorry, Harlee.”
“This is all your fault.”
