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Bullets & Bonfires

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We’re quiet for a few minutes and she seems to shake off the seriousness of our conversation. She pokes a finger in my side. “So, your ex is pretty.”

At first I’m thrown by the change in conversation. Ex-who? What?

“Did you love her?” she asks.

Linda, right. Yeah, because the metal stabbing through my finger wasn’t enough of a pain. I needed to run into my ex to really cap off the evening. I don’t know what I did to piss off the universe today, but Karma sure did have fun kicking my ass. “I cared about her,” I finally answer.

“She’s obviously still interested in you.”

“I’m not interested in her,” I answer quietly.

Her mouth opens as if she wants to ask more questions, but instead she tilts her head toward the truck. “Let’s get you home and get some Advil in you. That anesthesia will start to wear off any second now.”

“It already is.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because you’re more important.”

She leans up and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “Thank you.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

For the first time in days, a sense of accomplishment fills me as I leave my support group. I wish I felt as confident about the prescription rattling at the bottom of my purse. Encouraged by Liam’s story and our talk last night, I gave in and let the psychiatrist my therapist works with write me a script for an antidepressant.

The support group gives me hope. Sure, the stories of the other women are different from mine. Lots of them have children to provide for. Many of them don’t have friends or family to turn to. It doesn’t matter, though. Everyone was so supportive. No one treats me differently. I kept my shit together and didn’t break down in tears once.

With a lighter heart, I stop in town to explore some shops. The area seems much more built up than I remember it being when I was little. There’s even a small shop that serves and sells specialty teas.

As I walk out of the teashop, I’m so wrapped up in my own thoughts, I slam into someone on the sidewalk. Big hands settle on my shoulders to steady me. Startled, I jump back, heart hammering. I’m so freaked out I can barely focus on the two guys in front of me.

“Sorry, darlin.’”

Something about the voice brings on a flood of happy memories and I dare to glance up into a familiar pair of teal-blue eyes. “Marcel?” My gaze darts to his friend, who I also recognize. “Blake? Oh my God, I haven’t seen you two in forever.”

“Little Bree, you’re all grown up,” Marcel says as his gaze travels down my body.

My skin heats at the appreciative way Marcel takes me in. He’s no longer the teenage heartbreaker full of attitude who lived down the street from me. Now, he’s a man. At least six feet of lean muscle, thick blond hair, broad shoulders and enough confidence to stare me straight in the eyes without a lick of hesitation.

Wow. I haven’t had a reaction to anyone other than Liam in too damn long. Marcel’s best friend, Blake, isn’t looking too bad either. Far from the chubby ginger I remember as a teenager, he’s bulky, muscled, bearded, and manly now.

“What are you two doing in town?”

“Taking care of a few things,” Marcel answers.

“I heard about your grandmother. I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs, reminding me the two of them weren’t close. “Thanks.”

“How’s Heidi?” His little sister had been his constant shadow and I’ve wondered about her a lot over the last few years.

“Raising hell like always.”

Blake laughs. “True story.”

“If I remember correctly, you two were the hell raisers.”

“Nah.” Marcel glances away with an exaggerated sort of false modesty.

Blake lifts his chin at me. “What’re you doing here? Thought you left for Empire U and didn’t come back?”

“I’m back.” My hand strays to my sunglasses, pushing them up on my face. Marcel’s eyes narrow and he looks me over more carefully.

“Everything okay?”

My shoulders lift and like an idiot, I blurt out, “Bad breakup. I’m home to lick my wounds and then I’ll start graduate school in the fall.”

“What are you studying?”

From what I remember, Marcel hated school, so I’m surprised he cares.

“Psychology.”

“Heidi might be interested in transferring to Empire. If you have time over the summer, would you mind talking to her?”

“No, not at all.”

“Appreciate it.” He pulls out a phone and flips it open. “Let me give you my number. You need anything while you’re home, call me.”

My gaze drops to his muscled forearms covered in full-sleeve tattoos.

That’s new.

Guys with tattoos never attracted me before. But I find my eyes following the bright, intricate designs that disappear under the sleeves of his blue T-shirt.

He catches me staring and I clear my throat. “Sure, I’ll give you my number too. So, uh, you can have Heidi call me whenever.”

We exchange numbers and he gives me a sly smile. Hell, he’d been waiting for me to offer up my number.

“Still riding motorcycles?” I ask.

“Hell yeah.” He taps the patch on his leather vest. Treasurer. The patch below it says Lost Kings MC. I peek at Blake’s vest. Road Captain. Lost Kings MC.

“Sounds like fun.”

Both of them smirk at me as if I might have accidentally insulted them.

“You should come to a party at our clubhouse some weekend,” Blake offers. Marcel shoots him a weird look. Maybe he’s not keen on having me crash one of their clubhouse parties.

Clubhouse? Party? Am I ready for socializing? “Maybe.”

“Still scared to ride on the back?” Marcel nods at two intimidating Harleys parked across the street.

“Yours?”

“Yup.”

After everything I’ve been through, a ride on the back of a motorcycle doesn’t seem as scary as it used to. “I might be willing to give it a try.”

Marcel chuckles and runs his hand over the back of his neck. “All right, Bree. Give me a call when you think you’re ready.” His gaze strays to Blake, who lifts his chin ever-so-slightly. “I’ll come pick you up.”

Somehow that sounded more like an invitation into his bed, than an offer to attend a party.

I’m not insulted. Instead, their attention gives me the boost I desperately need these days. Between Chad crushing my spirit for the last couple years, and Liam keeping our relationship firmly planted in the brotherly concern zone, I’ve been questioning myself a lot lately. At least someone finds me desirable.

Someone? Two hot bikers, you idiot!

“Brianna!”

My eyes briefly shut as mortification sets in. I recognize that voice.

I fake a smile at Marcel, but his entire demeanor has changed. He steps in front of me, shielding me from the street. I peek around him and follow his line of sight.

Right to Liam’s patrol car.

Liam had been extra-overbearing this morning, asking me for every little detail of my plans for the day. It’d been a relief when he finally left for work. Now, he’s back to full overprotective-big-brother mode. He’s also probably five seconds from jumping out and, judging by the look on his face, shooting Marcel.

“That your man?” Marcel asks without taking his eyes off Liam.

“No.” I sigh and tug on his arm to draw his attention away, but he doesn’t budge. “That’s Liam. My brother’s friend.”

They’re like two dogs glaring at each other before an attack.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “Officer Do-gooder. How could I forget.” Marcel ducks down to get a better look at Liam and gives him a cocky wave. “’Sup, officer?”

Liam ignores the obvious challenge. “Bree. Get in the car,” he barks at me.

“You in trouble, darlin’?” Blake asks.

Marcel shakes his hea

d. “Wow, little Bree, in trouble with the law. And here I always thought you were such a good girl.”

“Shut up. He thinks he’s taking my brother’s place while my brother’s away. He’s so far up my ass, it’s absurd. And not in the fun way.”

Blake’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Wanna go for that ride now?”

I run my gaze over the two hot bikers in front of me. “I better not. He’s taking this babysitting job very seriously.”

They both glance over at Liam, whose car is blocking traffic now. “Guess so,” Marcel says. When he turns my way again, he grabs my hand. “No joke, sweetheart. You need something, don’t be afraid to call.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Both of them give me hugs before they leave. Marcel’s hand strays to my ass, but I’m sure that was more about pissing Liam off than feeling me up. The idea makes me laugh.

On my way to his car, I count to ten.

Something tells me I’m in for a lecture.

Blood boiling, I don’t say anything until Bree’s tucked into the passenger side and we’re moving down the road.



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