Page 40 of Bullet
She fidgeted with the edge of her T-shirt. “I’ve made so many bad decisions. I’m not judging you. I’m really not.” Her voice grew quieter. “I’m a horrible judge of character.” She took a deep breath. “I left my family to be with Emerson. He had all the power in the relationship, all the control. Sex comes with consequences. For me, they were life changing.”
Maybe that was why I stayed exclusive to my whores. “I don’t want to say things we don’t mean. I know you don’t trust me. Maybe because of Bristol, maybe because sex is just recreation for me. I get it. We aren’t the same, but you and me are in this together.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she rushed to say. “Even when I want to trust, I can’t because I can’t trust myself. I don’t trust men, especially those who want something from me.”
“You mean those who want to fuck you.”
She nodded. “You have your…girls. Don’t call Bristol a whore. She doesn’t deserve the label. Scarlett might.” She mumbled under her breath.
My lips twitched, and she rolled her eyes. She spoke her own language with those eyes. Exasperation, annoyance, fear, longing.
“Stormy, we need to be able to be in the same room together. I don’t want you to fear me.” I wasn’t good with words. I spoke bluntly. Fuck trying to finesse the truth. “I’m not going to force you to do anything. I just want to make things right for you.”
“I know I’m making things harder.”
I cocked a brow, and her lips twitched.
“Say it,” I said. “I’m not going to deny it.” She was making things hard, specifically my dick. I respected her boundaries. “You have reasons to be careful with who you trust.”
“There’s a spider right there.” She pointed to the corner of the window. “Its web is beautiful. Sunlight glints like gold off the silken threads. The pattern is so perfect. Before the foolish moth realizes the danger, the moth is trapped in the deadly beauty.” She bowed her head. “I’m not sure which one of us is the spider, and which one of us is the moth. Sometimes, I think I might be both.”
“I’m not the spider. I’m not looking to hurt you or take anything from you. Stormy, your ex is a loose end.” Loose ends could unravel everything we’d done to protect the club. “Neither one of us is safe until he’s dead.”
“You make it sound so clear. Like it’s black and white. I don’t want to be the reason…the reason you have to kill him.”
“Nothing is ever black and white. We all live in the gray.” I cupped her cheek and lifted her face. Her breath quickened. Fuck, but she had to be feeling this, too. Her lips slightly parted, and a soft breath fluttered over her lips. “Since that night, I’ve had you with me.I’ve got you under my skin, brown eyes. I can’t let you go unless I know you’re safe. Maybe not even then.”
“This is what I’m afraid of. I built this image of you in my head, but that’s not who you are.” She scooted off the bed and put distance between us. “Not that I’d want you to be any different. Not for me. I’m not like Bristol or Scarlett.”
I stood and crowded into her space. “I think I’ve made it clear that you’re nothing like them. But I’m not going to lie to you. Watching you with Steele pissed me off.”
She countered my steps, her eyes widened, and she sucked in a sharp inhale.
“You’re afraid of Barras, but are you afraid of me?”
“No…I…I’m not afraid of you.”
“Your lips are lying to me. If it’s not fear, what is it?” I encroached, one step at a time until I’d backed her against the door. “You’re trembling.”
“Bullet.” My name was a plea on her lips. “I’m not afraid of who you are. I’m afraid of what you are.”
“And what am I?”
“Bristol’s biker-boyfriend-pimp. And you’re something to Scarlett. I’m not going to pretend last night didn’t happen.”
“You’re just going to pretend I don’t affect you the way you affect me.” She pressed her hand to my sternum, but rather than pushing me away, her fingers curled into a fist. I covered her hand and unfolded her fingers against my chest. “Do you want to know what you do to me?”
My heart slammed against my ribs. The soft scent of her perfume lingered on her skin. I breathedher in, scenting her pheromones like a predator on the prowl.
“Something happened that night, something to both of us. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
Her palm pressed into the curvature of my chest. Her face canted, mine lowered. I braced one hand on the door, the other snaked over her hip.
“Life-threatening situations form trauma bonds that can be confusing,” she said.
“I’m not confused.”
Seeing her again only proved that there had been a cosmic fucking shift, the tides had turned, fucking horoscope shit. Only pressure coiled in my gut, my heart hammered in my chest, and I had a barrage of emotions choking me.