Sunshine and Bullets (The Bullets Book 1) Read online

  "And what are your dreams, Gav?"

  "Me?" he asked while producing a flask from his pocket and pouring it into his empty coffee cup. "I want to own the world."

  Gavriel took a long drink, throwing back the coffee cup like it was a shot glass before continuing. "This morning, I realized that I’ve been going about this all wrong," Gavriel said in a tone so low that I almost didn't hear him. I knew that it was the closest thing to an apology that he would willingly give me. “My father once told me that everything is business. Last night I allowed myself to get emotional. I won’t do that again. The world is better when I treat it as a transaction. So, I have an offer for you.”

  At his words, the doors to the gym opened and out walked Ryker. His hair was wet as if he had just showered, and his tight t-shirt and athletic pants made my heart race. He didn't notice us across the street at the cafe, and for a brief, selfish moment I wondered if he still felt our intense connection. I had an all-consuming awareness of Ryker and silently pleaded that he would turn his eyes towards us.

  But instead, he just walked over to a parked Jeep, got inside, and drove off as if the world wasn't just tipped off its axis. "What’s the offer?" I finally asked once Ryker was out of view.

  Gavriel leaned forward in his black metal seat. "You’re going to tell me what happened," he said as my heart raced. His voice was strangely calm, but his tone reverberated power.

  "I don’t have the time or patience for people that give half-assed apologies or run from their problems. I don’t fuck with people that give excuses. Yesterday was just a taste of what I could do to you. I control you now, Sunshine. I’m going to save you from whatever it is you thought was scarier than me, and I’m going to show you what a real monster is like. Maybe in the past, I would have helped you for free, but now? My protection comes at a price—and that price is your complete submission."

  I swallowed. Heat pooled between my thighs, as I imagined him controlling me in every way. The need to reach across this table and crush my lips to his was almost impossible to ignore. I wanted all of Gavriel. I wanted his extreme highs. I was willing to take the full force of his control because it was better than the alternative—nothing at all.

  "Yes, sir," I whispered with conviction, the old nickname like a flame licking the edges of my arousal. It seemed like a fair trade. Gavriel already owned me, in every sense of the word. He'd owned me since we met eight years ago. If that’s what it took for him to save me from the hell I was running from, then I’d gladly agree.

  "Good decision," he replied. He stood, cradling his helmet under his muscular arm before walking towards his parked motorcycle. I stood there watching him for a moment. He was right. I didn't know how far Gavriel was willing to go these days, but I wanted to explore. I was going to test his limits, whether he liked it or not.

  Chapter Twelve

  Five Years Ago

  The dress Mom picked out for me made me look like a prepubescent teen. The pink, scratchy material that hit well past my knees swallowed my curves. The nude, low pumps looked like dress up shoes intended for a toddler. She told me to wear my hair up in a bun, and to keep the makeup minimal. A fake smile and dull eyes finished the look.

  Dad's fundraising event was at the country club. I found it odd that Mom wanted to host an event intended to raise money at one of the most expensive venues in town. But it was all about image, of course. It was always about our image.

  Dad didn't come home again last night. We pulled around the back of the club and met him outside, to give the illusion that we arrived together.

  These events were draining. It was nothing but an opportunity to brag, or size up the man next to you. The only benefits of attending were the free food and seeing Callum.

  I was sitting in the corner of the room, eyeing Mom as she flirted with a heavyset man that was sweating profusely. She was in beauty pageants all her life, and the older she got, the more she used what little of her beauty she had left. She soaked up attention from whomever she could.

  "I hate wearing suits," Callum whispered. I jumped, so busy observing my Mom that I didn't notice him sneak up on me. I turned to take in his appearance. His suit was a little baggy on his body, but his fresh shave and sparkling eyes still affected me.

  "I hate wearing anything my mother picks out," I murmured. I threw a bright smile at a curious older woman observing us. I had perfected the art of smiling on command.

  "I don't know, you look like you're ready for a very important tea party." Callum and I laughed as I smoothed my skirt, feeling inadequate next to him. My outfit made our small age difference feel much bigger.

  His hand trailed the length of my spine, concealed by the wall behind us. A trail of sparks danced along my skin as he swiftly grabbed the pin in my hair, releasing my mass of curls down my back.

  "Mmm, much better," he groaned, making sure to graze the back of my arm as he pulled back. I turned to look at him and bit my lip.

  "I'm glad you're here," I said, my voice sounding smoky. "I don't think I could survive these events without you."

  "Politics never really interested me. Spending an evening at the country club my parents were once members of isn't my idea of a fun night," Callum began. I shuffled on my feet. "But a night with you? That sounds pretty fucking ideal."

  Dad was talking to a tall man with thinning hair and bright green eyes when he waved Callum and me over.

  "Here she is," Dad said. His smile was bright, but there was no joy in the depths of his gray eyes. Lately, I'd become more aware of his surface-level emotions. Dad could fool everyone else, but he couldn't fool me.

  "Mr. Santobello here has just decided to give me his endorsement and a very nice donation," Dad said. I stretched out my hand to introduce myself with a practiced handshake.

  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Santobello," I said robotically. The robust man with yellow teeth jetted his hand out to shake mine. When our skin connected, tingles of fear shot down my spine, almost instinctively. This man made me uncomfortable with nothing but a simple touch.

  "My organization is very excited to support your father. We think his platform aligns with our goals."

  I knew what my scripted response should be, but Mr. Santobello still clutched my hand, stalling me. The three seconds of contact felt like hours. Callum shuffled closer, providing me wordless comfort, just as Mr. Santobello released my hand.

  "The Bright family thanks you for your contributions, Mr. Santobello," I said, snatching my hand back to my chest. Callum stared at him with stone cold eyes before introducing himself.

  I looked at Dad, curious if he found Mr. Santobello's lingering handshake peculiar. But he seemed unfazed, a wide grin on his face. He patted Callum's back and told Mr. Santobello about how Callum's parents died. He danced around the tale of him heroically stepping up as a father figure in Callum's life.

  "So tell me about this beach house in California, Anthony. Is it okay if I call you Anthony? We're to be friends, you know." Their conversation slipped into cordial politeness. Dad was good at making people feel more important than they were. He could manipulate a conversation well.

  I listened halfheartedly, and Callum excused himself when work called. "They found a lead on the missing teen, I have to go."

  I squeezed his forearm with a grin, taking in his apologetic frown before saying, "Be safe."

  I was entertaining a polite conversation with the growing crowd around us when a gentle touch on my elbow got my attention. I turned around. "Blaise?" I asked. What was he doing here?

  He wore slacks and a polo, the style completely different than what I'd come to expect from him. He was a rock star through and through. Tight pants and black T-shirts. Seeing him dressed up as a preppy socialite was jarring.

  His gaze fluttered over my shoulder to stare at my father. I wanted to urge him to meet me in the hall, but my Dad's voice stopped me.

  "Summer, would you like to introduce me to your friend?" I winced, giving Blaise a pointed
look before turning around and slipping my smile back on.

  "Hey, Dad," I began with a tight grin. Mr. Santobello excused himself. He seemed uninterested in talking to teens or dealing with overbearing fathers. "This is Blaise Bennett. He lives with the Jamesons."

  A sense of familiarity lit up my father, and he thrust his hand out to shake Blaise’s. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Blaise said. His normal playfulness was completely gone now.

  "I've seen you around." Dad's voice was firm, and his handshake even firmer. "You like to hang around the station with your friends, don't you?" The hidden meaning in my father's words didn't escape me, and I wanted to hide.

  My eyes shot to Blaise, but he seemed unaffected by Dad’s obvious display of dominance. "You'd be correct, Mr. Bright. My foster parents plan to be big supporters of yours." Blaise looked over his shoulder, and in the corner of the room, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Jameson talking to my mother.

  Fresh tans covered their skin, and I noticed how Mrs. Jameson wavered a bit. Her wobbly heels seemed unsteady as she haphazardly held onto her almost empty glass.

  "I normally don't attend these functions, but I figured it would be a fun opportunity to introduce myself."

  "Well, please extend my sincere thanks to your foster parents. I'm always thankful for my constituents." Dad spun around without saying goodbye. He walked off in the direction of his frantic campaign manager, who was fussing over an elaborate deli meats tray.

  I turned to give Blaise an incredulous look, but he was laughing at me. "You should've seen your face! You were terrified."

  I shook my head and shoved his shoulder before remembering that I was currently on stage. This performance wasn't over yet.

  "You look ridiculous," Blaise said with a grin. "Do you think you've kissed enough babies and smiled for enough cameras yet? I'm here to steal you away."

  His offer was tempting. Callum was gone, Mom was busy chatting up Mrs. Jameson, likely looking for more drama to gossip about. And Dad was now shaking whoever's hand belonged to the biggest wallet.

  "What did you have in mind?" I asked.

  Blaise gave me a cocky grin. “First, I'm going to get you out of those clothes." My breath hitched at that insinuation.

  "Then? Ryker and I wanted to take you somewhere."

  Ryker was here? Blaise saw the confused look on my face because he added, "Ryker would've come inside, but he's still bruised up. We thought it would be better if he stayed in the car."

  A part of me wondered if my parents would notice if I'd left. Would Dad call me? Demand that I return? Most likely he'd be too lost in his image and campaign to even care.

  "Okay," I said. "I'll go."

  I left without a care and without saying goodbye. Outside, in Blaise's Mustang, Ryker was sitting in the front seat with a bored look on his face. I tapped on the window, and his eyes brightened when he saw me. Opening the door, he got out and gave me a small once over before greeting me.

  "What are you wearing?" he asked. It occurred to me that the Bullets had never seen me in this setting before. They knew that being a Bright meant that I had to attend many functions. They weren't seeing their Sunshine, they saw Paul and Clarice Bright's daughter.

  "No comment," I said with a half smile. Ryker wasn't wearing his usual athletic shorts and workout cutoff shirt. Jeans hung low on his waist, and a brown T-shirt pulled across his muscles accentuated his light skin. With his messy blond hair tied up in a bun on his head, he chewed on a toothpick while staring at me.

  We got in the car, and I asked where we were going, but neither of them responded. I wanted to ask what Gavriel was up to but knew better. If he wasn't with them, then he was likely on a date. It was an unspoken rule between us that we didn't discuss their dating lives.

  I had hoped that Blaise would stay true to his word and let me stop by my house so that I could change. Instead, he passed Woodbury Lane, continuing down the highway. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he pulled into Chesterbrook High School.

  "What are we doing here?" I asked as Blaise parked. Ryker and he looked mischievously at one another before getting out of the car. Ignoring my questions was getting old.

  Crawling out of the backseat, I exited the car and stood next to both of them with my arms crossed over my chest. "I'm not going any further until you explain to me what's going on."

  It was Blaise that finally cracked, "You mentioned that you were feeling rebellious. How would you feel about adding breaking and entering on your rap sheet?"

  My eyes shot up in surprise, and I looked between them both, unsure if this was a joke.

  "You want to break into the high school?" I looked up at the tan building, aged yet pristine. The overgrown lawns outside and dark awning gave it an ominous feel. "We graduated a week ago, why on earth would we want to get back into the building we’re finally free of?"

  Ryker took a step towards me and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. In the dim glow of the streetlights, he stared deeply into my eyes. "Sometimes, the fun thing about being rebellious is doing it without reason. Allow yourself to be spontaneous, Sunshine."

  His words were like warm honey, coating my reservations. Blaise leaned forward, lifting up on his toes a bit as he waited for my answer in anticipation.

  "How are we ever going to break in?" I asked. Was I dressed right for breaking and entering? What about the school alarms?

  Blaise began clapping his hands and threw a fist in the air triumphantly. "You let us worry about that, Sunshine. Oh boy, this is going to be fun."

  I was surprised with how easy it was to get into the school building. Ryker and Blaise moved like experienced trespassers. They knew the exact window that didn't have a lock on it. They also knew that the security alarm had been out for the last eighteen months. The district was being cheap about fixing it.

  My heart raced as I climbed through the open window, but my long skirt didn't allow for much flexibility. So, Ryker stood inside at one end of the window and Blaise at the other, both of them guiding me inside. Blaise's hand lingered on the curve of my ass a little longer than necessary.

  I wasn't sad like the others when I graduated. I looked forward to escaping it all. I preferred to keep to myself, never building friendships outside of the Bullets. In all my time at Chesterbrook High, not once did the Bullets walk me to class. It was another one of our unspoken rules. They watched from afar though. Many times, I'd caught their stares from down the hallway. They walked their jealous girlfriend of the week to class but went home to me.

  I couldn't tell you how many times I'd caught them mauling another girl's face against the row of lockers. I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have Blaise, Ryker, or Gavriel pushing me up against the metal lockers. I imagined them threading their hands through my hair, kissing me without abandon.

  We made our way to the science labs, and Blaise situated himself on top of one of the tables. He put his hands behind his head, staring up at the tiled ceiling as I stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do next. Ryker said to be spontaneous, but I wasn't quite sure what that meant.

  Ryker dug around in the pocket of his jeans before pulling out a Ziploc bag. Blaise shot up to a sitting position and grinned when he saw what Ryker was dangling between his fingers.

  "Is that what I think it is?" Blaise asked, eyeing me.

  "Yep. Figured we should celebrate our last break-in at Chesterbrook High."

  "Oh! Little Miss Bright's gonna smoke her first joint," Blaise said with a wicked grin while jumping off the table. When his shoes hit the tiled floor, I jumped. I wasn't sure if I was willing to venture this far into rebellious territory.

  "You don't have to do this," Ryker said while lighting up the thin, rolled paper. I watched as he lazily sucked in a low, slow drag. Holding it in his chest for a moment, he let the smoke out in waves of clouds. The corner of his lip quirked up into a hint of a smile as he passed it over to Blaise.

  Blaise wasn't as casual as Ryker. He greedily inhal
ed, holding it in his chest for as long as possible before huffing it out with a smoky breath. Blaise then coughed while patting his chest, eyes squinted as he handed the joint back to Ryker.

  Ryker rolled his eyes, before whispering, "Amateur."

  "You want to try?"

  "I–I'm not sure."

  "Do you trust me?"

  I looked over at Blaise who was now leaning against the lab table. With his arms crossed over his chest and a lazy grin on his face, I'd noticed that his cocky demeanor had calmed. He looked sensual and laid back.

  I turned back to Ryker before answering, "Yes."

  At that, Ryker wrapped his arm around my waist pulling me closer until my breasts crashed into his abs. He looked off to the left and took in a long, slow draw once more. Turning back to me, he held the smoke in his chest. Ryker lifted his hand up and brushed his thumb over my bottom lip, pulling open my pout. I gasped and my skin went hot as I melted into his touch. With hooded eyes, he leaned forward until our noses were touching. Only a prayer separated our lips. He then opened his mouth, pouring the smoke into me.

  My eyes fluttered closed as he cupped my neck. The smoldering breath fell around us in cloudy waves as I took in his exhale. My arms wound around his back, gripping him closer. When the last of the smoke faded, all I could see was his hazy expression, hooded with desire.

  "Damn," Blaise said, stopping me from crashing my lips to Ryker's. "That was hot." I bit my lip, turning once again to look at Blaise who then walked towards us. He took the joint from Ryker's hands and inhaled once more.

  "My turn," he said with another cough. I kept my hands firmly on Ryker's back as Blaise placed the rolled paper between his plump lips. His inhale was lazy now. He took his time breathing in. Ryker rocked against me, resting his hands on my hips as I turned my neck and stared at Blaise.

  Staring into my eyes, Blaise pressed his forehead to mine all while the smoke settled in his chest. Then, I opened for him, leaving no room for fear or regret. He spilled the smoky lust lined haze into my mouth. My legs trembled as his lips just barely pressed into mine.