Summer and Smoke (The Bullets Book 2)

by Coralee June

  Chief Bright pulled into his driveway, but he didn't turn off the car. I reached for the handle but realized that it was still locked. "Well, that's a shame," Chief Bright said. I looked over at him, noticing that his cheeks were red. Beads of sweat rolled down to his neck, leaving drops of moisture on his collar. "I have a cabin in the woods, kinda close to this real nice fishing spot. You should come out sometime."

  I dipped my brow in scrutiny, unsure why this guy I barely knew was inviting me out fishing. He seemed to recognize the confused look on my face because he then said, "I make it a point to introduce myself to the new foster kids of the area. I think it's important that young boys have good role models in their life. I looked into your files. Your dad was a real piece of work," Chief Bright said.

  I clutched my hand into a fist, wishing I could escape this police cruiser. I didn't want to talk about my dad, nor did I want some man with a superiority complex to think he was saving me. "I'm just saying, son, sometimes boys need a strong role model. I'd be happy to spend some time with you, teach you how to fish."

  I opened my mouth to respond, but a gentle knocking on the window of the driver side door made me pause. Outside was Summer. I'd only seen her in passing a couple of times in the last six weeks, but there was a fear in her eyes that caught me off guard. She always seemed so composed, so perfect.

  So afraid.

  Chief Bright let out a huff of annoyance before killing the engine and opening the door. When he got out of the car, he took a moment to adjust his belt before addressing her. I took the opportunity to leave the car as well. With Gavriel's warnings still in my head, and the need to just survive the next seven months without any trouble, I had every intention of walking up to the Jamesons’ house and sitting in my room for the rest of the night. But there was a fear in her voice that made me pause. Maybe I was just attuned to these things, but Summer Bright was scared of her father.

  "What do you want?” her dad growled. He loomed over her, using every bit of his influence to intimidate. That didn't sit well with me for some reason.

  "It's Mom," she began with a stutter. "She passed out and fell, I can't pick her up."

  Chief Bright looked at me, a flash of insecurity crossing his face. He shushed his daughter before saying, "Well, come on then. Let's go put her to bed."

  I wanted to go after them and see if they needed help. Not really because I wanted to be around Chief Bright any longer, but because the frown on Summer’s face was all too familiar. "You okay?" I called after her the moment he disappeared inside. She looked back at me over her shoulder and nodded once before following her father inside.

  I didn't notice Gavriel standing by the Jamesons’ front door when I walked up. But the frown on his face was glaringly obvious. He didn't like that I had shown up in Chief Bright’s car, and he definitely didn't like that I'd talked to Summer. I don't know what it was about her that had him all out of sorts, but I was starting to see that there was more to her smile than the act she put on for everyone else.

  "Why were you in his car?" he asked, his voice more like a growl than a question.

  "He offered me a ride. Wanted to invite me to his lake house," I replied with an involuntary shiver.

  Blaise was in the garage, working on his car. If I hadn't seen him with so many girls, I would've thought he was fucking his machine. He threw me a cocky smile before saying, "Well that's weird."

  "He said something about wanting to be a role model for the foster kids. I bet it has something to do with him running for office." It was no secret that the Brights were popular in this town. Signs boasting a bright future under his leadership lined our street, and election season hadn't even started yet.

  "Isn’t your daddy a public defender? I bet you're right. He just wants a picture in the newspaper. Sly bastard," Blaise said with a frown. Both he and Gavriel stared off towards the Brights’ house, and I wondered what other things they knew about Summer’s family. From what little I'd seen, I thought that they had the picture-perfect little life, but today reminded me that pictures were only two-dimensional.

  "Well anyway, I'll just get going," I said before sidestepping Gavriel. He stuck out his hand and placed it on my chest, stopping me from avoiding them. Ever since I got here, Gavriel had let me do my own thing. But now that I'd said two words to Summer, he wanted to chat. This was why I didn’t like to get involved.

  “You remember my rule, right?” Gavriel asked. I gave him a hard look before shoving his hand off my chest.

  “Yeah, I remember.” I didn’t give either of them a second glance, I simply went inside and upstairs to my room. They were probably going to some party tonight to get shitfaced again. Blaise liked to be the center of attention, and Gavriel liked having an opportunity to forget himself for a while. I simply liked that they left most nights, so I could have the house to myself.

  When they left for the evening, they didn’t bother saying goodbye to me. Gavriel only felt compelled to talk to me when he thought I was breaking his rules. Otherwise, they were in their cute little club, and I was more than happy to be excluded. I was sitting on the couch, watching TV when a light knock on the front door sounded. I got up, straightened my boxer shorts, then shuffled to answer it. Mr. and Mrs. Jameson were at another convention, so I wasn’t sure what the protocol was for guests.

  A crash of thunder sounded outside, and when I opened the door, I was surprised to see Summer Bright. She was drenched from head to toe, and the tears on her face were mixed in with the rain pouring down. She looked completely devastated, and this weird sensation balled up in my chest, forcing me forward. I wanted to wrap my arms around the little broken thing in front of me.

  “Is Gavriel or Blaise here?“ she asked with a sniffle. I stepped to the side, motioning her inside the house. I was afraid that if I told her they were gone, she would leave. And for some weird reason, the thought of her leaving felt like when Gavriel pressed on my broken rib.

  “They’re out,” I answered. I felt her eyes on my abs, and I quickly ran to the laundry room to grab a shirt and some sweatpants. When I came back, she was shivering.

  “Are you okay? Do you need me to call someone?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what it was about her that made me want to help, but I recognized myself in her terrified stare. Abuse, no matter the type, was one of those things that bonded people. It was a shitty bond, always trying to balance on its shaky foundation of distrust and trauma. But it was still there, a flashing indicator that there were more people in the world like you than you originally thought.

  “I was hoping that they were here…” she said. Her teeth began to chatter, and I quickly grabbed my cell phone.

  “Stay right here, okay?” Dialing Blaise’s number, I called him, stuck between wanting him to answer and wanting him to stay away all night. But then I remembered about battles and how I should pick them.

  “Finally get tired of hanging out alone?” he answered. “I was wondering when you’d start inviting yourself along.“ I looked at Summer, who was doing everything in her power to avoid my gaze.

  She hadn’t left yet, which meant that the awkwardness between us wasn’t nearly as bad as whatever she was hiding from.

  “No, it’s Summer,” I said while glancing at her. “She’s here asking for you guys. She seems…upset?” I looked at her, trying to gauge if she would be angry that I told them she was crying, but instead of embarrassment, it was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

  On the other end of the line, Blaise cursed. “Fuck. Her mom has a little bit of a drinking problem, and her parents have been fighting. I’ve been drinking, let me find Gav so he can drive us. Tell her that we’ll be home as soon as we can.“

  Blaise hung up the phone, not waiting for my answer. Once again, I found myself staring at this mysterious girl that had my foster brothers tripping over themselves. Blaise didn’t even question leaving the party early to come console her.

  “You can go upstairs to one of their rooms?” I said
with shaky uncertainty. For some reason, I wasn’t quite sure how to act around her. I wasn’t sure where the line was for Gavriel. “I’m sure you want to get out of those clothes. You can borrow some of theirs, or you can grab something of mine?”

  She disappeared upstairs for a moment, and I just figured that was the end of it. The guys would come home and be her knight in shining armor. For six years, I couldn’t even save myself, so I didn’t expect to be the one to save her now. It was best not to have high expectations, so after she’d gone up the steps, I went back to the living room and tried to ignore the nagging feeling that was eating at me. I wanted to go upstairs and take care of the stranger crying in one of the bedrooms, but Gavriel’s warning was still strong in my mind.

  “What are you watching?” a timid voice asked from behind. Surprised, I turned around to stare at her. She found Blaise’s shirt and Gavriel’s sweatpants. The outfit completely swallowed her up, and I wished she was wearing something of mine too. Maybe that’s why Gavriel didn’t want me talking to her. He already had to share her with one dude, three’s a crowd.

  “Uh, nothing really. You can change the channel if you want.” I was fumbling over my words and making an idiot of myself.

  "So why were you with my dad today?" she asked. I chanced a look at her as she settled on the seat beside me and noticed that her eyes were red, but the rest of her showed no signs of the tears flowing from her face before.

  I didn't want to be rude and admit that I thought her flesh and blood was a fucking creeper, even though I was pretty sure she knew it herself, so instead I said, "It was hot, and I wasn't feeling great. He offered me a ride."

  Summer nodded her head then pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them as she slumped over. I debated for a good three minutes about whether or not I should ask her why she was crying, when she told me without prompting. "My mom has a...a problem," she said.

  She was stumbling on the words, and I immediately knew that she wasn't telling me this because she wanted to. She felt like she had to explain herself. She was embarrassed. The thunder crashed outside, echoing the awkwardness we were experiencing here in the living room.

  A half hour passed like that. Us silently watching a show that I wasn't even remotely paying attention to and her occasionally looking up at the clock, probably wondering where her real saviors were. "Do you like pancakes?" she asked.

  "Yeah?" I replied.

  "Good, ’cause I'm hungry."

  Summer Bright knew where everything was in the Jamesons’ kitchen. She opened the pantry and got out the ingredients with ease, needing little direction from me. Which was good because I had no fucking clue where anything was, nor did I feel comfortable enough rummaging through their stuff. This wasn't my home.

  She mixed the batter and poured some into the frying pan. I immediately saw that she overlapped some of them, and I wondered what design she was trying to make. "I saw on a cooking show once that someone made a happy face pancake this way. Thought I'd try it out," she said mostly to herself.

  I leaned over her shoulder, standing close enough to smell the remnants of rain on her skin and light in her soul. She smelled like...sunshine.

  And she was making a penis shaped pancake.

  I smiled for the first time in what felt like...years. "It looks like..."—she tilted her head to the side, and I wasn't sure what to say in that moment—"...a penis. It looks like a fat penis."

  I watched in awe as her cheeks turned a perfect shade of pink, and she tossed her head back to laugh. I was still standing so close that she was then resting on my chest, giggling so much that her shoulders bounced as the pancake penis burned in the frying pan.

  "Looks like you're doing better," Blaise's voice said to our left. I immediately backed up, feeling a shiver of cold from the distance between us. Blaise and Gavriel were standing there, one with a drunk and mischievous smile on his face but the other with his arms crossed in disapproval. Fuck. Gavriel Moretti was going to strangle me in my sleep.

  Blaise surged forward, wrapping his arms around her middle before carrying her off. “My little Sunshine, out in the rain and looking so pretty in my shirt,” he cooed before walking away. Gavriel’s stare was hot on my neck. I was pissed. Who was he to tell me what I could and couldn’t do. He took slow strides towards me, and something in the way he walked took me to another place. I wasn’t in the Jamesons’ kitchen. I was at home, standing on wooden floors in my living room as Dad landed blow after blow. I flinched. I cowered. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling like a pussy. They say a body can’t remember pain, but mine could. My brain recreated the sounds of crunching bones, bleeding wounds. I was covered in bruises, but Gavriel Moretti didn’t even land a punch.

  “Kid!” a voice said, stern but loud. There was a hand on my shoulder. A slap in my brain. A shove in my heart. “Kid, snap out of it.”

  I never understood why people said they had to pull themselves together. Mine was more like a push. I had to force my mind up a mountain of trauma. It wasn’t until I was leaning against the counter that I could finally understand what Gavriel was saying. “Thanks for helping her tonight. I’m glad you were here.”

  His tone suggested that he was hesitant to compliment me, each word lingering on his tongue. “What?”

  I knew better. Gavriel wasn’t going to repeat himself.

  “You know how to fight, kid?” he asked. I could have punched him in the jaw right then and there for the nickname. We were practically the same age, and if pain added years, then I was at least a century old.

  “I can take a hit, if that’s what you’re wondering,” I said.

  “I didn’t ask that. I asked if you knew how to fight,” Gavriel continued, crowding my space with that dark look in his eyes I’d seen the first night I got here.

  “No. Not really.”

  “Good. First lesson tomorrow morning at six a.m. before school. Sunshine works in the library before class, so we ride early. Don’t be late.” He spun around, not giving me the chance to refuse. I watched his back as he retreated from the kitchen, wondering if I was now a Bullet or if I left my father’s abuse to take on another.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sunshine

  Present day

  The venue for Ryker’s fight was all Vegas glam. A rolled out red carpet welcomed us, and the paparazzi flashed their cameras as the neon lights overhead illuminated the night sky. Ultimately, Gavriel decided that it would be better to show up to the fight. Nix convinced him to work smarter instead of harder, so Gavriel reached out to his contacts prior to the fight and offered the man that Santobello was meeting with a better deal. It wasn't about being the strongest. It was about being first and being the one with the better offer. Now, instead of worrying about what was happening at the meeting, we would have to worry about Santobello’s reaction.

  Our seats were close to the ring. As we sat down, I found myself feeling more and more worried about this match. Ryker had left for the venue a couple hours ago and was likely somewhere in a locker room preparing. I thought back on the last time I was at one of his fights. I wondered if he was calm or if he had given in to his anxious energy, pacing the locker rooms with his muscles flexed. Gavriel said that he did better when he was calm and in a stable state of mind, but I thought that there was something to be said for Ryker's anger. Skill, precision, and the ability to think ahead was important. But at the end of the day, this game was about brute force.

  "You okay?" Blaise asked. I was twisting a program in my lap as my black sequined dress shimmered under the bright lights while more people filtered in. To a quiet observer, this was a match between two pro-fighters, but to anyone who knew more about the men fighting, this was a gang war. A turf dispute settled with fists.

  Gavriel was quick to dismiss my questions about Ryker's opponent, but I had a feeling that things were going to be intense. "I'm fine. I'll be better when all of this is over,” I answered.

  Gavriel's men surrounded us, creating
a wall of angry expressions and broad shoulders. A part of me wished they could block my view of the ring, but I knew it was important that I watch. "Ryker’s a total badass. You have nothing to worry about," Blaise encouraged. Nix and three of Gavriel’s men stayed behind at the hotel. He wanted to run surveillance and let us know where Santobello or my father were should they try something at the fight. We were attending with the hopes that it was too crowded of a place for either of them to try something.

  "I know he can handle himself. It doesn't mean I won't be any less concerned." I observed the ring and watched as the lights dimmed. Loud music with an arousing beat began playing. The announcer made his way to the center of the ring, accompanied by a referee. I only half-heartedly paid attention to the announcements. It wasn't until Ryker was walking towards the ring that my entire soul went on alert. My eyes were glued to his, my body responding to his nearness. The air smelled of cheap cologne and cigarettes. There was an exit near the front. Five men behind me. I no longer had my knife. But I could still remember the feel of it.

  One. Ryker would be okay.

  Two. We were safe.

  Three. Please let us be safe.

  Ryker slipped through the ropes surrounding the ring and started bouncing on the soles of his feet. Oh yes, he was definitely that anxious ball of energy. To my right, Gavriel frowned as he stared at this new warm-up technique.

  "Why is he bouncing around? That never works for him. He needs to calm the fuck down," Gavriel said. Behind him, his men were whispering frantically as if realizing that the bets they just placed were at risk. My eyes snapped back to Ryker. Even if it was out of the ordinary, I knew that Ryker was doing whatever was best for him. If he needed to expel some of the excess energy he had, then more power to him. The music pumping through the stadium was loud, the rocky bass making my body hum and ache in all the places Ryker kissed me earlier.

  “How did Santobello pull this off so quickly?” I asked Gavriel, leaning in to speak in his ear over the loud music.