by Coralee June
It was as if he couldn't hold back any longer. "You could've fooled me. You froze up there, son. I had ten grand on that fight." Joe cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck before crossing them at his chest.
I pursed my lips, forcing a smile back. No wonder Joe was grumpy.
"What happened up there?" I asked. How could someone who was so cruel just minutes before be so affected by a simple kiss with Gavriel? Was I conceited for assuming that it was me?
"Why are you on the run?" he asked, yet again. I got the hint that he wouldn't be providing me with any answers until I answered him. I wasn't ready to give anyone else more than the bare minimum, so I would have to deal with the unknown for a little bit longer. But I had a feeling that Ryker would show his hand soon.
Callum saved us from continuing our stare down by sliding open the curtain. "Did someone want ice cream?" he asked in a sickeningly chipper tone. He was overcompensating for the awkward situation with an optimistic attitude.
I hopped off the bed and ran up to him with a grin. "Please tell me you got—"
"Peanut butter ice cream with Oreo crumbles and gummy bears on the side. Oh! And drizzled with hot chocolate?"
I let out a giggle of delight as Joe and Ryker let out disgusted groans.
"What the fuck kind of concoction is that?"
I jerked the plastic cup from his hand and tore off the lid before scooping up a bite and plunging it into my mouth. "Mmmm," I moaned. "A fucking delicious one."
Callum laughed at my expression before handing Joe a cup, too. So he did want some ice cream. That's it. I'm keeping him.
Ryker looked around the room at us in shock. With a frown, he stared at Joe enjoying every last bite of his plain vanilla cup.
"Is this seriously happening right now?" Ryker asked in disbelief.
"Yup," Callum and I replied at the same time.
I let out another giggle, not sure if it was tiredness, or if I was so emotionally drained that I couldn't feel more than surface-level emotions. Either way, I didn't care.
Ryker shifted and groaned while clutching his side. I stood to assist him, but he held his hand up to stop me. "No, no, I'm fine. You just sit there and eat your fucking ice cream."
I shrugged then slumped back down in the visitor's chair and continued to enjoy the rest of my treat. For now? I was okay. Callum still remembered my favorite ice cream. Ryker wasn't giving me hate stares, and Joe looked only somewhat mean instead of downright murderous.
It's the little things.
Chapter Nineteen
Five years ago
After changing my outfit yet again, I settled on a white, casual dress that was short, sexy, but comfortable. I’d been saving it in the back of my closet. I wrapped a black cardigan around my shoulders, praying my Mom didn't think it odd for the hot summer months.
Excitement vibrated through me. Bullet parties were notorious for being exclusive and wild. Every Monday at school, I'd listen to the crazy reminiscing of my classmates. Who fucked who at the party, what person got the most trashed, what guy the Bullets beat up. What girl Gavriel, Blaise, or Ryker fucked. Most of the time I wasn't interested in participating, or at least, that's what I told myself. But lately, I needed the distraction. Dad was always gone, and Mom was always drunk.
I made my way downstairs and paused at the bottom step. I noticed Mom laying on the white loveseat in the family room. Her mouth was slack and her curly hair nothing but a mess around her face. There was a wine glass tipped over on the floor, accompanied by a red stain on the carpet where her drink spilled. I rolled my eyes and stepped up to her, preparing to remove the glass and put a blanket over her shoulders. A cleared throat from behind startled me.
"Leave her," Dad said. I turned to face him. He was wearing a navy suit, pressed to perfection. His clothes were the only thing about his appearance that looked together. His thinning hair was greasy, and his eyes were red. He shuffled on his feet before going still.
"How long has she been out?" he asked. Normally, I would've been the obedient daughter he expected me to be and answered his question. Not once had I ever gone against him. But a boldness bubbled within me, forcing me to voice my opinions.
"You’d know if you were home more."
Dad seemed unfazed. Bored, almost. "I think she likes it better when I'm not home," he said. I searched his face for any sign of remorse or regret but found none. He treated his emotions like they were facts. The sky was blue. The earth was round. He didn't love us anymore.
"How's the search for the missing teen going?" I asked. I had to change the subject, and soon.
"We haven't found any leads. We did, however, find out that he was part of a local underground fight club. I have Callum looking into it." Dad gave me a pointed stare, and it was at that moment that I knew he was analyzing me. Did Callum tip them off?
"Oh?" I asked.
“How well do you know the Bullets?” Dad asked. His eyes were cold and calculating, taking in each detail of my expression. He was cataloging my reactions.
“We all went to school together,” I said with a shrug before crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t like where this line of questioning was going. Dad watched me for a moment before making a conscious effort to mimic my posture. He once told me that it was an interrogation tactic he used to get people to talk. It made people connect with him on a subconscious level. He tricked people into feeling confident enough to let their guard down.
I knew all his tricks though.
“That’s all?”
“Yup.”
Dad walked towards Mom’s sleeping form and brushed his hand tenderly over her forehead. It was the most affection I’d seen between them in years. “I know you’re lying to me. I allow your friendship because it doesn’t interfere with my image.” Dad then stared at the crimson wine stain on the carpet before adding, “We all need our secrets, Summer.”
I should have been surprised by his admission, but I wasn’t. The Bullets and I had kept things low key, but Dad was observant, and we hadn’t been the most careful. I disappeared to their house many times throughout the week. They were bound to see that we were more than acquaintances.
But what about his secrets? My eyes fluttered over to where Mom was sleeping. She looked so weak. He followed my gaze and stood straighter. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
Outside, Blaise was standing in front of his Mustang in the Jamesons’ driveway. I saw his face brighten under the glow of the streetlights as he began waving at me. I strolled towards him, still feeling unsure about my chat with Dad.
Blaise wrapped me up in a hug, crushing me to his chest before spinning me around. “I can’t believe you’re actually going with us!” he exclaimed. I giggled at his excitement, and he set me down, making sure to slowly slide me along his hard body in the process.
I debated on telling them about the strange conversation with my Dad but decided not to ruin the night. “We thought we'd eat first. Ryker walked over to the diner after he got off of work and Gav—"
The sound of a motorcycle interrupted our conversation, and I turned around in time to see Gavriel pull up. He pulled off his helmet and gave me an appreciative stare before gliding towards us. Unlike Blaise, his greeting wasn’t as openly affectionate. His knuckles grazed along mine, lingering in the touch before he spoke. “You ready?” Blaise nodded and I shrugged. I was as ready as I would ever be.
I sat up front, and Blaise immediately grabbed my hand. It was usually how we sat when he drove me around, but it felt more intense now with Gavriel watching.
Virginia’s Diner was on the outskirts of town. It was far enough away that we didn’t have to worry about running into anyone, but close enough to be a regular hangout. The building was small and run down, graffiti covered the exterior, and the food was mediocre at best. But since Blaise got his license almost two years ago, it had become our unofficial hang out.
When we pulled up, Ryker was leaning against the brick, smoking a cigarette. I walked
up to him and gave him a small side hug, and he kissed my temple. The greeting was different than his usual friendly hug, and I didn't miss the look Gavriel gave us when I pulled away.
Inside, we didn't bother waiting for a hostess, we went to the back booth in the far corner. It was next to the kitchens, so we could hear the cook, Abe, singing as he worked. Ryker slid in next to me in the booth. Usually, Gavriel occupied that spot, but I didn't think anything of it. He rested his hand over my knee beneath the table. "How is everyone?" I asked the group, my cheeks flaming at his touch.
"Today sucked. I think the transmission is going out on the 'stang. Gonna cost a fortune to replace it," Blaise pouted while resting his head on his hands. "Then I heard you decided to grace us with your presence at one of our parties, so my day got better," he quickly added.
I beamed while rolling my eyes. "Well, it was the first time I've ever been invited.” There was an unspoken invitation to anything the Bullets did, but Ryker was the first to actually ask if I wanted to go.
Blaise looked between us. "We've invited her, right?" he asked Gavriel.
"Semantics, Sunshine. You knew you always had an open invitation," Gavriel responded in a cruel tone, looking me dead in the eye.
"Did I?" I challenged. I couldn't help but wonder if they liked having me as their little secret. Hell, my own father knew about my friendship with them. All this time I thought it was me that needed to keep things low key, but I couldn't help but wonder if it was the other way around.
"I guess you’re right. Before, I didn't feel like being ditched for whatever girl you were seeing that month," I said with a frown. Two girls entered the diner and stared hungrily at Ryker, solidifying my point. He massaged my leg then, making sure to press on my inner thigh.
"Fucking," Gavriel said. My eyes shot to his in shock. "What you meant to say is 'whatever girl you were fucking that month.’ "
I rolled my eyes as Ryker scooted closer. Our thighs touched, and he took his hand from my leg then wrapped his arm around me, comforting me with his embrace. "Yes, silly me. I'm just the little prude girl next door that can't say words like fuck, or pussy, or cock." Gavriel's breath hitched as my lips formed each vulgar word, and Blaise leaned in closer. "And don't forget, I get worked up over a little petting." I gave Gavriel a pointed stare.
"I'm certainly too virginal and naive to attend one of the infamous Bullet parties. Maybe you should just take me home so I don't ruin a good time." I meant to sound playful, but there was a bitterness in my tone that made my shoulders slump. I was nervous about attending my first party and was taking it out on them.
“I’m sorry, guys. That sounded annoying even to my ears,” I said with a frown. “Can I start over?”
Ryker hugged me tighter as Gavriel fumbled with his fork.
“Sure, but I want you to say 'cock' at least seven more times,” Blaise replied. We all laughed, my sour mood dissipating. After we ordered from Diana—a beautiful single mom that always loaded up my plate with french fries—I saw a familiar face enter the dining room.
Callum.
"Excuse me," I said while scooting out of the booth. I took slow strides up to him, and when our eyes met, he gave me a blinding smile. "Well, hello there, Officer Mercer," I said in a polite tone, even though my heart was thudding.
"Hey, Summer." Callum drug his eyes up and down me, and I returned the perusal with equal interest. He was out of uniform, wearing dark denim and a button-up shirt.
Just as I was about to ask what he was doing here, a beautiful blond woman walked in behind him. She rested her hand on his shoulder before saying, "I'll grab us a table." She was stunning. Toned, long legs in tight pants swayed towards a table, and she sat down gracefully.
My heart dropped. All the fluttering joy of seeing him had completely disappeared into a ball of sadness. Was he just humoring me? I looked like an idiot throwing myself at him. He had a girlfriend?
"Date night?" I asked, forcing my tone to keep bright.
"Ah, that's Lucy," Callum said. "She's my—"
"Hey, Babe, where'd you go?" a familiar voice asked as Blaise walked up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me back into his chest right before he kissed my cheek.
"I-I was saying hi to Officer Mercer," I stuttered as Blaise's hands then dipped lower to my hips. I leaned back, basking in his comfort.
"Hey," Blaise said with that cocky drawl I loved. "Aren't you the guy that got my girl and me out of trouble?"
"That would be me," Callum grit out. His fists balled up at his side.
"Well thanks, man! Would have sucked if Sunshine here would've gotten in trouble. I’d go nuts if I didn’t get to kiss these sweet lips every day." Blaise spun me around. Before I could ask what was happening, he gave me the briefest wink before closing his lips on mine.
Fireworks. Pure, blinding, bright fireworks.
His fingers grabbed my chin, holding me in place as I leaned into him. He tasted like cola, and I let out a surprised moan against his lips. He opened for me and lightly flicked his tongue against mine. A shudder of lust went straight through my body like zaps of lightning. He pulled away, but my eyes felt heavy. I swayed a bit as he chuckled.
"Sorry, can't help myself sometimes," Blaise said unapologetically. I felt his hands on my shoulders as he spun me around to face Callum again. I was surprised to see the pain reflected in his eyes, snapping me out of my lusty haze.
"We don't want to keep you from your date any longer," Blaise added. "Have a good night!" God bless my intuitive friend. He always knew what I needed. I wasn't exactly sure why, but I wanted the kiss to be real.
We turned to leave, but a hand clutched around my wrist stopped me. "She's my partner," Callum whispered. "We've been following leads on the missing teen case. I heard that the Bullets frequent this place. We decided to stop by and ask some questions. I didn't know you'd be here, I swear. I didn't want to involve you."
My shoulders slumped when I realized that the gorgeous woman sitting with him wasn't his date. I was thankful for Blaise's desire to help me save face but now felt embarrassed. And that kiss? It would haunt me for weeks, maybe even months. "You should talk to Gavriel," I blurted out, desperate to salvage the situation.
Blaise squeezed my hand, an unspoken warning. The Bullets had a strict code that I had to follow by proxy. Inviting Callum into the fold would be breaking an unspoken trust I’d established over the years. But I needed to make this right. Tonight had started off terribly. "You can trust him," I said to Blaise before turning back to Callum. "Sit with us for a minute?"
Callum nodded then followed us towards the booth after stopping to tell Lucy that he was going to chat with us for a minute. She looked at me, probably recognizing me as Chief Bright's daughter, before taking a sip of her soda.
Gavriel and Ryker had been staring, and when I stood at the table, I couldn't tell where the hostility started and ended. Gavriel and Callum were glaring at Blaise, Ryker was glaring at me, and I was drowning in testosterone.
"Guys," I said, my voice sounding small. "Can you help Callum for a minute? We owe him for the other night." After looking around to make sure no one was listening, I plopped back down in my seat next to Ryker. The second I was seated, he molded his body to mine.
"What can I help you with, sir?" Gavriel asked while leaning back in his seat.
Callum stared at Ryker, who was now playing with my hair. His jaw flexed as he tore his eyes from us and back to Gavriel. "Do you know this kid?" He pulled out his phone and scrolled until he got to a photo of the missing teen then turned it to face us. "We found out recently that he's been involved in an underground fight club. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Callum asked sarcastically. I saw his head slightly shake. Without words, he was pleading with us not to make it any more incriminating on us all than necessary.
"Nope. Don't know a thing about that," Gavriel answered immediately.
"Well, that’s a shame. Some people believ
e that the ringleaders—whoever they are—are responsible for his disappearance. It would really suck if the wrong people were blamed for this by association." Callum's eyes cut to me, and I flinched.
Gavriel's expression lost all its easy-going confidence. I'd seen this look a handful of times, and knew that it wouldn't end well for any of us. His voice was fierce then, "I'd hate for the cops to make assumptions based on shit they know nothing about."
I couldn’t help but wonder if they were still talking about the fight club and the missing teen.
"Look, his name is Elliot. Been missing almost a week now. We're starting to worry that he won't show up alive. If you hear anything or see anything, can you let me know? Summer has my cell number."
My heart flopped. Gavriel glanced at me, a billion questions reflected in his eyes. I stared back, willing him to help.
Finally, he sighed before replying. "I don't know anything about the leaders of this fight club, you hear me? But I heard a rumor that Elliot never showed up last Friday for his match."
Callum bit his lip in concentration, and I couldn't help but stare. "Tell the organizers to reach out if they hear from him."
Gavriel nodded once as Ryker laced his fingers through mine. Callum turned to leave but stalled. For a second, he stood staring at the table where Lucy was sitting, then he turned and faced me once more. "Summer, can I chat with you for a second?"
"Not without a lawyer present, Officer Mercer," Gavriel interrupted with a satisfied smirk. "If you're wanting to ask her questions about Elliot, then you'll need her guardian's permission. She's a minor—at least for the next month or so."
Callum sucked in a deep breath before responding, taking a beat to calm himself. He stared at me, daring me to contradict Gavriel. "Right. I guess I'll see you tomorrow night at dinner, then."
He started to walk off, and I yelled, "Wait!" before squeezing Ryker's hand and chasing after Callum once more. I couldn't handle seeing him walk off so dejected. Even if things were still confusing between us, at the core of our relationship, we were friends.
