Page 91 of Bullet
“Slimy fucking politicians. This guy really tried to be a part of the club?” Hades asks.
“Yeah,” several of the guys say in unison.
I don’t look away from the stage, though. My eyes are stuck on Adalyn, who looks downright petrified.
What did he do to her to make her look like that?
“My name is William Dansworth, and I will be the next mayor of this fine city,” he says, making everyone cheer.
Dansworth smirks as he leans against the podium. “It’s no secret that our city is riddled with crime. Not only at the hands of the homeless population that keeps growing, but thanks to gangs, cartels, motorcycle clubs, and the Mafia, who keep coming to town. They think they can come here and own a piece of our paradise, but enough is enough. Hear me when I tell you that our administration will not stand for it.”
The crowd loses their shit, feeding his ego.
“My first order of business…”
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
“Fuck!” the guys yell in unison as we all duck.
Eyes still stuck on the stage, I watch in horror as William smiles deviously, standing tall.
“He planned this,” I murmur.
“I don’t care. Keep low and run,” Bullet tells me as shots continue to ring out.
As a group we fight our way through the crowd. When I think we are in the home stretch, the guys jerk to a stop.
“Put your hands up!” someone yells.
I peek around Hades and see a dozen cops standing in front of us. Bullet lets go of me but doesn’t look away from the shit show in front of us.
“Go. You know what to do,” he murmurs to me.
For a moment, I war with myself. I should stay with them. They did nothing wrong. Wrong place. Wrong time.
Shots ring out again, making me flinch.
The cops begin to move forward as the guys place their hands on their hands.
“Go, Harlee,” Bullet hisses.
Finally, I do as I was told, and I run. I don’t stop until I reach Bullet’s bike. Breathing hard, I lean down and rest my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Well shit, it looks like Bullet wasn’t wrong and this was a trap. Son of a bitch.
My eyes are shut, and my head is tipped back. From the outside, I look like I don’t have a care in the world, but on the inside, I’m a fucking mess.
Did Harlee make it out okay? Did she manage to call for help?
Harlee. Harlee. Harlee.
All my thoughts revolve around her.
I should be worried that I’m locked in an interrogation room for the first time ever, but I don’t give a fuck. I know I did nothing wrong. I had nothing on me. My hands are clean. At least today they are.
“Come on, kid, just tell us the truth. We could cut you a deal,” one of the pencil-dick cops says.
I want to ask him if that shit really works, but I bite my tongue.
I must zone out because the next thing I know is I hear the door opening.
