Page 42 of Bullet
Bullet stares off at the TV. I hold my breath as I wait for him to decide what he’s going to do. Is he going to leave me alone or is he going to stay?
After a few moments he gets up and turns toward me.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve been left alone,” I say, making him wince.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him run his hand through his hair slightly.
“You’ll call me if you need me?”
“Yeah, sure,” I lie.
“I’ll see you later.”
He turns and stomps out of the room, and only after the front door closes do I relax.
Shutting my eyes, I shake my head.
Is it wrong that I just want him to pick me? Is it wrong that I want him to say fuck the club and load up his bike for us to take off into the night? I want him so badly, and it’s starting to eat at me.
Friends. All we can be is friends. The word tastes bitter on my tongue.
You know what? Fuck Jacob and his friendship. Fuck the MC, my dad, and everyone who’s standing in our way.
I’m sick of waiting on something that’s never going to happen. I can’t stay here and watch him fall in love with somebody else. Not when he should be with me, period.
It’s time to leave. I need to get out of here before it’s too late.
As I ride toward the clubhouse, I can’t get the girl I just left behind out of my mind. Tonight, Harlee seemed angrier than she has been lately. It’s like a switch has been flipped inside of her.
I should have never agreed to play these games. Before she saw me at the bookstore, everything was fine. We were in a good place and things were looking up, and now everything has changed.
I should back out. Tell Reaper I can’t do this. As soon as the thought enters my mind, I push it away. I need to do this. I’m the only one who can. I can’t walk away while my brothers need me. Harlee is just going to have to wait a while.
Hopefully, it’s not too late to fix things after I’m done.
A biker ahead waves me down. I slow down, coming to a stop on the side of the road. When I see it’s the prospect heading right toward me, worry hits me.
“What’s wrong?” I demand.
“I just thought I should give you a heads-up that shit is crazy at the clubhouse.”
“What’s going on?”
“We were notified that we were about to be raided, and the cops are on their way,” he says, making my stomach fill with dread.
“Why? What do they think they have?”
“Intel says they think we’re holding somebody.”
“But we’re not,” I say.
“I know that, and you know that, but they don’t,” he says, shaking his head.
“How long until they arrive?”
“I heard sirens when I pulled out, so they’re probably already there.”
