Page 110 of Bullet
“It’s my mom’s jacket,” I tell him.
I recognize the patches on the front along with the worn leather. It is well loved. Mom never went anywhere without it. “How did you get it?”
“Turn it over,” he rasps.
I do as he asks, seeing his name where my father’s once resided.
Property of Bullet.
This was my mother’s old lady jacket, but somehow now it is mine.
It feels right. It feels as if she has given us her blessing.
“How?” I manage to breathe out between the tears.
“Your father gave it to me. Said Eleanor always planned to pass it along to you one day.”
I turn to him, kissing his lips. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
“So is that a yes?”
I snort. “I didn’t realize I was asked a question.”
“Always busting my balls, huh, Angel?”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way,Jacob,” I tease.
“No. I wouldn’t. Would you be my old lady? Make it official since you have already been the old lady that has owned my heart?”
My heart is full as I smile at him. “As if I would let you go now. Of course I will be your old lady. I can’t wait to proclaim to everyone who will listen that you are mine.”
I lean in and kiss him. He kisses me back, sliding his tongue into my mouth. I let him lead the kiss, savoring every moment with him.
I always wanted a love like my mom and dad had, but when I lost her, I started to doubt that. Now I know that a love like that isn’t something to be afraid of. It’s the kind of love you hold on to with all your might because you know that once it’s gone, you will never be the same again.
I hope I never lose Jacob. I don’t think I could handle it, but I know he feels the same.
As I cuddle into his arms, all I can think is that I hope neither of us has to lose each other. I hope we go at the same time when we are old and have lived a long and full life.
A knock at the door has me opening my eyes. I smile down at the sleepy girl sleeping at my side.
“Who is it? Can I kill them? I know you keep a knife in your nightstand,” she grumbles.
Harlee has never been a morning person. I think it’s adorable how cranky she can get.
“Don’t worry, Angel. I’ll get it,” I tell her as I move to get up.
“I should get it. You are injured,” she says into her pillow.
“I can handle it. I’ll let you give me a sponge bath later if you want, though.”
“Sounds promising.” She yawns.
I laugh, walking to the door slowly. When I open it, I find a grim-faced Trigger.
“Church. Now. I’m sorry, brother.”
I nod once. “Let me take some meds and put on some pants at least. I will only be a few minutes.”
