Page 55 of Bullet
No, I’ll be a good date, then let her down easy.
Plans. He told me he has plans.
Ever since I’ve known Bullet, he’s never told me he’s had plans. He tells me when he has something going on with his family or when he has something that he needs to do with the club, but never just plans.
My curiosity gets the best of me, and I open up the folder that’s buried inside another folder on my phone. I click the tracking app that he installed that he doesn’t think I know about. Or if I had to guess, Trigger actually installed. Either way, it works to my benefit. What Bullet doesn’t know is that I can track him as well.
Thank you, friends and family feature.
I wonder for a moment if that’s why Trigger installed this particular app. I know he could track me without me knowing if he wanted, but he left me this crumb. One I am happy to follow.
I click on his name and wait for it to load. When I see that he’s at a restaurant in Vegas, my heart sinks.
He’s on a date. He has to be right?
Insecurity rushes through me, and my throat feels dry.
We can’t happen.
I’m too young for him. The club and my dad are standing in the way.
Am I crazy? Did I just imagine everything between us?
No. It was real. He feels the same way, I know it.
Before I know it, my insecurity is replaced with anger.
Does he really think he can get away with this? Over my dead body.
I smile as the plan starts to form in the back of my mind. Leaving my room, I head downstairs. The prospect stuck on babysitting duty looks up as I enter the room.
“Hey, you okay?” he asks.
“I’m all right I just came down because I’m hungry.”
His head bobs. “Cool, are you grabbing something from the kitchen or do you want me to order something for you?”
“Actually, I was wondering if we could go out to eat.”
A line forms between his eyebrows. “You wanna go eat at, like, a restaurant?”
“Yeah, unless there’s a reason we can’t…”
“I don’t know. I’d have to message Bullet and Reaper and see what they think,” he says as he moves to pull out his phone.
“Come on. If they didn’t explicitly say that we couldn’t leave, then it should be fine. Besides, you’ll be with me. Please…” I drawl out.
To really sell it, I hold my hands in front of me like I’m praying and bat my eyelashes.
“Yeah, okay, uh, we can’t take my bike, though.”
Fuck yes. Hook, line, and sinker.
“That’s fine, we can take my car and you can drive if you want.”
“Yeah, sure, okay,” he says unknowingly, sealing his own grave.
The poor soul doesn’t even realize I set him up for failure.
