Summer and Smoke (The Bullets Book 2)

by Coralee June

  “It’s the bruises you can’t see that you should be worried about,” I said, instantly regretting my words. I was still raw about today. Seeing my grave had made me livid. I didn’t honestly know what to say to Ryker. Callum’s and my first time was nothing like what I’d expected. It was angry. He claimed me then fled. And although I accepted each part of my complicated relationships with all four of them, I didn’t necessarily want to go into detail with Ryker about the most intense sex I’d ever had.

  I felt Ryker go still at my back. Turning around, I took in the multiple bruises on him. “You look…” I began as the hot water continued to beat down on me, chasing away the shiver, “terrible.”

  Ryker’s lip quirked up just a millimeter, but I saw the amusement he was trying to hide. “That’s not necessarily what any man wants to hear when he’s naked in front of a woman,” he replied.

  I rolled my eyes and wrapped my arms around him. I still wasn’t sure how to act. I kept messing things up. “Have you been crying?” he asked me before kissing my temple.

  “Did you know my parents have a gravestone for me?” I asked. I wasn’t sure why, out of everything that had happened there, I was still clinging to that. It was like my father was standing there triumphantly, and I was just the ghost of the girl that died in that basement.

  Ryker stopped hugging me to pull away and stare at my expression. “What?” he asked incredulously, and I saw the rage on his face despite the swelling and bruises. “That’s fucked up,” he finally choked out.

  I bit my lip and looked down at the floor of the shower, knowing that I couldn’t look him in the eye as I said what I needed to say. “I don’t know why it affects me as much as it does. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not the worst that he’s done. If anything, I’m being a little ridiculous. What kind of person focuses on that when their mother died a couple weeks ago?”

  Ryker began massaging my arms. A small moan escaped my lips as he rubbed little circles along the muscle. “I think it’s normal,” he said. Ryker gently guided me to spin back around and began massaging my back. “Back when I lived with my dad, I would find myself staring in the mirror after one of our...fights.” Ryker’s voice didn’t waver as he spoke about his father, but I knew better. He was strong in all things, but talking about his dad still bothered him.

  “I used to count the bruises. I would stare at the dark, discolored spots along my stomach and rib cage. I would press on them, pour peroxide on the cuts, and enjoy how it burned,” he said. His voice was even as he dipped his fingers to my lower back and rubbed the knots of tension there. “I liked the visible proof of my survival. I liked to feel the ache. The soreness. Sometimes, we just have to prove to ourselves that we’re still here. So you’re not going to hear any judgment from me, Sunshine.”

  I rolled my neck as the water streamed down my breasts. The walk-in shower was full of steam now, and my chill from earlier had melted entirely into desire for Ryker.

  “I survived,” I said, mostly to myself. I still couldn’t figure out why I was so determined to prove that. For five years, I didn’t care if the rest of the world knew whether or not I was alive or dead, but being back with the Bullets and seeing that no one knew how much of a victim I was, genuinely disturbed me.

  For so long, I’d been running from my past, convinced that nothing could stop my father. And now that I was starting to have hope for justice, I was angry. I was mad that my story had been twisted into something that put my father and mother in a positive light. People felt sorry for them. People loved them through my disappearance, but no one loved me. No one except Nix, that is.

  I had no idea that by finally opening the floodgates of my truth and telling the Bullets what had happened, I’d want to tell the rest of the world too. It wasn’t enough just to kill my father. “What if I want other people to see my bruises?” I asked. “What if I want the world to see the evidence of what he’s done?”

  Ryker stopped massaging my back and spun me around to face him. His lip was cut from his fight the night before, but I still found myself wanting to kiss him. “I’ll do whatever you want, Sunshine,” he said. His voice was husky but tender. “If you want the world to know, I’ll shout it out for you. And if you want this to be quiet revenge, I’ll do that too.”

  I leaned in and kissed Ryker on the neck, silently thanking him for being so understanding and saying all the things I needed to hear. I turned back around to face the tiled wall, pressing my back into his chest. He reached over me and removed the handheld showerhead from its perch and began running the water over my back, washing away the soap suds. He had me so turned on that I couldn’t think or talk. All I wanted was to feel his body against mine.

  I let out a little whimper as he massaged my breasts with one hand and directed the spray of the water at my stomach. “I want to fuck you from behind right now. I want to dig my teeth into the skin of your shoulders and back.”

  I squirmed and arched my back, pressing closer, and he wrapped his free arm around my middle, securing me tightly against him. “But I think lately the world has been taking a lot from you. So I’m going to give that wet pussy of yours some relief.”

  “So you’re done punishing yourself and holding back?” I asked.

  “If you can face your demons and come here, then I sure as fuck can get over my shit and make this easier on you.” I felt his lips on the back of my neck as he aimed the showerhead lower, directing it between my thighs at my clit. Fuck. Yes. Ryker kept me steady as my legs shook. He led a trail of kisses along the scratches on my back. It stung where he touched me, but I didn’t care.

  “Feels too intense,” I cried out as my sensitive nub seemed to protest. I felt too much, too soon. I was past the point of going back, but Ryker was determined to slam me against my threshold of pleasure.

  “I’m going to kiss you in all the places you ache, Sunshine,” Ryker said in a husky voice as he continued to lick and suck every single scratch and bruise that hurt. It wasn’t just my body he was comforting, it was my soul. He held me still, coaxing each little thing I was frustrated about with his words. He was demanding that I deal.

  “God, it’s so intense,” I said through gritted teeth. Ryker might want to make this about me, but he was determined to do it on his terms. There was nothing about Ryker that wasn’t punishing. Even his bliss came with stipulations. Ryker wasn’t like the others. He was selfish but self-assured. He was accepting but determined to make his mark on my soul. He was determined to be unforgettable. I was thankful for this moment because it forced him to stop treating me like the broken girl he once knew, and more like the woman I’d become.

  “I’m so close,” I said in an airy tone while focusing on my breathing. I’d never been one to announce an orgasm, but I wanted Ryker to know. He was enjoying hearing my cries of intensity.

  “You’re going to come so hot for me, Sunshine,” he growled into my ear. The unrelenting tension building up in my body was too intense, too carnal. And as if summoned by his words, I shattered in his arms, crying out as he kept the water pressure held on me, making it feel so good, my body literally couldn’t handle anymore.

  It wasn’t until I went limp that he pulled back, and I sank in relief. Every bone in my body was loose, it was like I’d spent hours stretching. I’d relaxed in the purest way. Ryker forced all the tension in my mind and body to explode within me, leaving me empty but satisfied. I tried to protest, eyeing the bruises on his ribs and stomach, but Ryker still picked me up to cradle me anyways. “My Sunshine. So perfect,” he murmured before carrying me out of the shower.

  Chapter Six

  Callum must have left while we were in the shower, because he was nowhere to be found when we finally emerged from the bathroom. Ryker made sure to make me come two more times before I nearly blacked out. He was relentless, tentative, and everything I needed after my intense morning with Callum. We then snuggled on the couch in silence, not bothering to turn on the TV. We merely watched the rain pou
r down outside while enjoying the comfort of one another.

  Gavriel and Blaise arrived an hour later carrying paper sacks with the logo for Virginia’s Diner on the front. The moment I saw them, I shot out of Ryker’s arms and ran to grab the food from their hands. “Oh my gosh! I haven’t had this in ages!” I squealed, all too happy to enjoy the mediocre food of my favorite diner.

  Blaise looked at me then chuckled. “You’re more excited about the food than seeing me. I’m not sure how I feel about that,” he said in a teasing tone. There was something off about his voice though. Like he was forcing himself to sound lighthearted. I gave him a swift kiss on the cheek before settling onto a stool at the kitchen island and unloading the contents of the bags. Gavriel moved to the sink to wash his hands.

  “Food will always be my first love, Blaise. I thought you knew this?” I chuckled while shifting on the wobbly bar stool. “Where were you guys?” I asked while biting back another squeal at the sight of my favorite dessert: pumpkin pie with homemade whipped cream on top. I dived in, not waiting for their response. It wasn’t until my mouth was sufficiently stuffed that I looked up from my plate to stare at my men. I was expecting some quip about how much food I’d managed to consume in mere seconds, but instead, all that greeted me was nervous concern.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, sitting back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. I was wearing one of Ryker’s shirts that smelled like his cologne, and my hair was a mess of untamed waves.

  “We have to go back to New York. The cabin search is canceled for now,” Gavriel answered before shutting off the water. He slowly made his way towards the mess of carry out then went rifling through one of the bags. When he pulled out a salad, I all but rolled my eyes. Gavriel was a health nut.

  “Why? Catch another lead?” I asked.

  Gavriel ran a hand through his hair and brushed his lip with his thumb. He was wearing dark denim and a black shirt. If I weren’t so excited about the food, I would have found him delicious. “Nix called,” was his answer.

  “...and?” I prodded. I didn’t like where this conversation was going, and I started to wonder if this food was supposed to soften the blow of some bad news. It was something the guys regularly did when we were younger. Prom night, I came down with the flu and couldn’t attend. They couldn’t come over because Mom and Dad were home, but we got an anonymous delivery of soup that night.

  “Paul Bright got on a plane at noon and arrived here a little over an hour ago. We don’t know why he’s here, but we do know we need to get you away from him.”

  I swallowed, my mouth suddenly feeling very dry. This was a pivotal moment. I could succumb to the flashbacks that assaulted me anytime I saw my father, or I could prove to my men that I was strong—that I could handle it. “So? Why do we have to leave?” I asked, making sure to keep my voice even and composed.

  “Because I don’t want that rat bastard anywhere near you,” Ryker growled.

  I played with my fork, scraping it against the plastic container of food while processing what was happening. I was concerned, yes, but more so, I was curious. Did he know we were onto him? “I need to call Callum and let him know,” I began before shifting to get off my stool. Even though things had been weird for us after the cemetery, I still thought he ought to know.

  “He is already aware,” Gavriel said in a clipped tone, seemingly displeased.

  “What do you mean he’s ‘aware?’” I asked.

  “He knew Callum was here and invited him to dinner. He’s got something up his sleeve,” Blaise explained.

  “All the more reason to leave,” Ryker added.

  I didn’t like knowing that Callum was enjoying a civilized dinner with a serial killer, but there wasn’t much that we could do. Until we made our move, Callum had a part to play—we all did. And my part was to be invisible.

  “I want to find the cabin. What if we go now? While Callum has him occupied?” I stood up, stretching while refusing to meet their gazes.

  “I’ll be honest,” Blaise finally spoke. He moved around the kitchen island to stand by me. Grasping my elbow, he gave me a brief look of solidarity before continuing. “I’d been considering that. But it’s dark and stormy, I think we should stick with our original plan and go in the morning. What could he possibly do?”

  “The whole point of us going is so Callum could find some evidence to pin on Bright, and even that was a moot point. I don’t even think there’s anything there. Men like him and Santobello don’t leave behind messes or clues.” Gavriel pushed his plate aside then began rolling up his sleeves. “I wish you’d both abandon his need to do this his way.”

  “I promised him a month. I want to do that for him. And as for the cabin? I want to go for me,” I said. “Sometimes, I doubted myself that it was real. Let’s go and figure out what we can. Even if we find nothing, at least we could…” I didn’t continue the last words. I couldn’t say that I wanted to find myself. Blaise squeezed me once more as if knowing what I was too cowardly to say. I felt so disconnected lately, unsure of what I was doing or who I was.

  “I think it’s fucking stupid,” Ryker finally said. “You need more time to...cope. I didn’t really support this to begin with, and I sure as hell don’t support it now.” I knew that there was no point in arguing with Ryker. He wasn’t the sort to let up. Instead, I looked to Gav. Ultimately, he’d be the one to decide.

  “Okay, Gav,” I said while letting out a slow exhale. “Tell me what to do.” He licked his lips, a slight smile marring his severe frown. Every time I displayed a level of trust, that cocky teen from our youth would reappear, rewarding me with a smile for trusting him. He stared at me, analyzing my expression, taking in the calm way I relinquished control. If he thought I could handle it, I could. If he didn’t, then I couldn’t. It wasn't necessarily that I was one way or the other. It was his faith in me that made all the difference. We were symbiotic in that way. I trusted him, he believed in me.

  “If we go, will you stay by my side at all times?” Thunder crashed outside, echoing his point.

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, no hint of teasing in my tone. This was an exercise of trust, and I was more than willing to play.

  “Will you tell me if you feel uncomfortable or feel a panic attack coming on?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ryker began pacing back and forth. “You can’t be serious,” he growled.

  “Let’s get this over with. I think this would be good for all of us. It’s time for Sunshine to prove how much she can handle. And maybe if we find nothing, Callum will stop clinging to the idea that we can do this his way.”

  I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. What did it say about me that I was willing to go to the scene of the trauma? Everything I did made me wonder if I was like him. Maybe this could prove once and for all that Paul Bright didn’t mold me in his image. I broke the mold long ago. “We’ll stick to the plan and go in the morning. But the moment we’re done, we’re out of here,” Gavriel added.

  Ryker and Gavriel argued for a bit longer as I got dressed for bed.

  “Ms. Bright, come here,” Joe said from the corner of the room. He was eyeing Gavriel and Ryker with annoyance but stopped staring when I got there.

  “Did you eat anything?” he asked. I turned to look longingly at the abandoned food on the table then shook my head. After learning that Callum was with my dad, nothing sounded good.

  “Did you?” I asked.

  He rolled his eyes at my question as if the idea of me fussing over him were preposterous. “Here,” he said while handing me a revolver in a hip holster. “Tell me you know how to use it.”

  The truth was, I didn’t. I slept with a knife when I lived on the streets, but I avoided buying a gun. It wasn’t that the weapon scared me, it was that I didn’t like how much power it gave the person wielding it. Paul Bright’s blood ran through my veins, and I didn’t trust myself with that sort of authority. Authority was what twisted him into what
he’d become, and it would be what ruined me.

  “Nope.”

  Joe let out a huff of exasperation. “How did you survive for so long? Any street rat with a lick of sense can handle a gun.” He took it back then started digging in the pockets of his jacket, pulling out a small but sharp knife.

  “You know what to do with this?” he asked in a mocking tone. Even though he was being sarcastic, I detected a hint of warm affection hidden behind the annoyance.

  “I don’t need a weapon, Joe. I wouldn’t be able to…”

  His eyes softened for a split second before slipping back into hardness. “When I got back from my third tour, I slept with a gun. I had nothing to fear, but there was something comforting about feeling the cool metal beneath my pillow. I’ve noticed how you cope. You get hyper-focused on your surroundings. When we get there, you put this knife in your hand.”

  He placed the handle in my palm as if to further his point. “Count the grooves in the handle. Rub your thumb along its edges. Place the cool blade against your thigh and put all your attention on how it feels.”

  I felt my neck break out in a sweat at his words. “Focus on the thing that’ll save you instead of what can kill you, capiche?”

  It was the most Joe had ever said to me and was probably one of the most profound life lessons I’d ever heard.

  “Can I adopt you as my Godfather?” I asked in response, lightening the mood. Joe tended to flee when emotions were involved, so I wanted to reward his thoughtful advice with an easy answer, even though I was feeling a bit more attached. I had enough daddy issues to last a lifetime, but Joe was someone I once again found myself wishing would adopt me.

  “No,” he said, deadpan, before stalking towards the front door.

  I stared at everyone as they discussed the plans for tomorrow until Blaise gestured for me to follow him to bed. I lingered, staring at the room with uncertainty as I ran my thumb along the ridges in the knife’s handle. One. Two. Three. Breathe in, breathe out.