Page 3 of Bullet
“Fun’s over. Let’s go, Harlee.”
His voice has a shiver running down my spine. Pulling away from Skyla, I turn to him, wishing he would take her place. With him, it would definitely be sexual. All sexual.
“Bullet, what are you doing here?” I am attempting to sound seductive, but my words are slurring.
I’ve had way too much to drink.
“Coming to get you. Let’s go,” he barks at me, those green eyes disappointed.
I hate how that makes me feel. I don’t want him to be disappointed in me, but I don’t want to feel either.
I shake my head. “I’m not ready to go. You can stay and have fun, or you can leave. I’m staying.”
I turn to grab Skyla and pull her back into my arms, but Bullet stops me. He turns me back to him as I stumble into his chest.
I look up at him, marveling at how pretty his smoky green eyes look in the dimness of this house party.
I want to kiss him.
He doesn’t give me a chance to, though. Instead, he leans down, picking me up over his shoulder and muscles his way through the crowd. Not a single person stops him, but I don’t blame them.
All the people here are trust fund babies or losers from the local high school. None of them are dumb enough to mess with a Lotus member, and Bullet? Yeah, he has his vest on, showing he is a full-fledged member.
I miss the days when his patch readProspect. Those days I might have had a chance. Not anymore. He has gone from my biggest crush to the only person who knows I’m alive most days. I both hate and love that.
“Put me down,” I growl at him.
He doesn’t listen. He carries me all the way out to his bike, setting me down on my feet only when we are standing next to it. He puts on the helmet that I know he bought especially for me before he climbs on.
“Harlee, don’t test me. Get your ass on the bike.”
In that moment, I can see how tired he looks. That’s the only reason I do as he asks and climb on the back of his bike.
Truth is, I live for these moments. The ones where he shows up because I’m acting out. It gives me a little thrill. It never lasts long, though.
I sit behind him on the bike, my hands roaming his chest. With the effects of the ecstasy in my system, even the wind feels good against my skin.
It’s not a long ride home, but I enjoy it while I can.
After all, life can change in a second.
Seeing Harlee so fucked up is killing me. Gone is the sweet sixteen-year-old who had a bright future ahead of her. In her place is this shell of a woman who I don’t think even cares about what happens to her.
I know she is smarter than the way she is acting. Taking drugs and drinking? This isn’t the Harlee I once knew. This is the girl who was left in the wake of tragedy.
Her hands roam my chest as she rides behind me. I don’t bother to stop her. At least if they are moving, I know she hasn’t passed out yet. It’s fucked up, but it’s the reality I now live.
When I pull up to her house, I pray that Honk comes out and hands me my ass for bringing her home like this. I would love for him to beat my ass for being with his little girl right now, but he doesn’t, and he won’t. He is every bit as messed up as his daughter is.
Losing Eleanor has been a hit to everyone. She was a staple at the clubhouse, and without her presence, you can feel the change. The brothers have mourned her and moved on. The sweetbutts have figured shit out without her guidance. The other old ladies have stepped up and done what they can to fill the hole she left.
This family isn’t healing, though. They are wallowing. These days, Honk almost never makes it to the clubhouse. He spends most of his time on his couch drinking. He doesn’t come out for charity runs or parties at the clubhouse. The only time he leaves is when his bottle is empty.
If it were only him, I might be willing to let him kill himself. Lord knows I have no idea what it feels like to lose the love of your life. It’s not just him, though.
He has this beautiful daughter who is dying inside as well. It’s like she cannot heal because he refuses to.
Helping Harlee off the bike, I look at her. She is lost. Depressed. She’s using drugs and alcohol to replace the pain instead of facing it.
