Page 85 of Bullet
“Shut the door,” Reaper tells her.
She shuts the door, and I reach for her, pulling her into my lap. I bury my head into her shoulders as I try to calm my racing heart.
Son of a bitch, that could have been bad. Really fucking bad.
“What happened?” Reaper demands.
“Adalyn called and said we needed to meet up. That it was urgent,” she says, trying to catch her breath.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I ask.
“I texted you, and you didn’t answer. I went and met up with her. She fucking admitted everything,” Harlee tells us.
“I need you to give me specifics. Don’t leave out a single detail,” Trigger tells her as he reaches for a pad of paper and a pen.
Anger rolls through me when Harlee admits she went into Vegas alone and met Adalyn in a dark alley. She tells us how Adalyn has known all along who we were and that she was forced to come to Vegas to help her father take us down. It doesn’t end there, though. Harlee tells us that William doesn’t just have his sights set on taking us all down, but on Natalie too. He wants her back.
By the time my girl is done giving us every damn detail, she’s shaking like a leaf in my arms.
“I’m sorry, I can’t stop shaking,” she says.
“It’s an adrenaline crash. You’ll be okay,” Midnight tells her softly.
She jerks her chin up and down before looking at Reaper. “I really am sorry.”
He frowns, shaking his head. “What are you sorry for, Harlee?”
“For busting in while you guys were meeting.”
His eyes soften. “I think we can give you a pass, just this once. If you need to do it again, though, make sure you knock first. That way no one accidentally shoots you.”
“I-I can do that.”
“Anything else?” Trigger asks her, pulling her back to the topic at hand.
“She’s scared. Like really scared. I think she needs help. No, I know she needs help.”
The guys and I share a look, but it’s me who speaks.
“We will do what we can.”
She looks over her shoulder at me. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Bullet, why don’t you take her back to your room while the rest of us make a game plan? We will fill you in once she’s calmed down,” Reaper says.
Nodding, I roll my chair back and tap Harlee’s leg. She jumps up and starts rubbing her arms. I stand and place my hand on her lower back. Side by side we leave the chapel.
Natalie looks up from her spot at the bar. The worry is clear on her face.
“I’ll have some tea sent to your room,” she tells me before taking off toward the kitchen without waiting for a reply.
“Come on, Harlee,” I murmur as I lead her down the hall.
For once, my girl doesn’t put up a fight, and I hate it.
It’s been two days since Adalyn admitted to me that she is scared of her father. Two days since I charged into church, something my father always forbade, and demanded they help the girl. Two days of being told they are trying to figure out the best plan of action.
