My lips twitch into a smirk as Bullet shifts slightly in his seat again. I can tell it’s taking a lot for him not to be a smart-ass. If I open my mouth, I’m going to personally be an ass, and Bullet hasn’t told him to go fuck himself yet, so I feel like he’s winning and a bigger person than me.
“Black pants, white shirt,” Bullet states.
“Hair and shoes?” Bennet asks.
Goose grunts but otherwise doesn’t say anything. I can tell that, like me, he’s got something he wants to say, though. Thankfully, he decides to keep his mouth shut. We don’t needto ruin this before it begins, even if Bennet is being annoying as fuck.
“Black boots. We’re compromising a lot here already,” Bullet murmurs. “Hair will be either neatly pulled back or combed.”
Bennet nods a few times, then his gaze flicks to mine. I’m a bit surprised that he is staring at me. I’m in this meeting, but I don’t know how much I really have to do with any of this. I mainly demanded to be here out of pure nosiness and because I wanted a chance to see Millie again.
Bennet stands from his chair and takes a step to the side to move away from it, then takes one backward. He doesn’t break eye contact with me as he does this.
His stare would be unnerving to someone else, maybe even slightly intimidating, but I’m not just a Vicious Reaper, I’m also law enforcement, and no amount of staring is going to intimidate me… ever.
“Bennet,” I call out when he continues to stare yet says nothing.
His tongue slides across his bottom lip before he clears his throat. “You’re a cop,” he states.
I stare at him, unsure of what he wants me to say about that. It’s a fact he knows and has known. It’s not front-page news, and it’s not something I’ve pretended doesn’t exist. So instead of responding, I arch a brow and match his stare, waiting for whatever the fuck he thinks he’s going to enlighten me with. Which he won’t, but I’ll let him talk anyway.
“Is there any way we can get the club off any kind of… list?”
I almost laugh in his face, but instead play really fucking stupid as to what he’s asking me. “List?” I ask.
He jerks his chin in my direction, and I suck in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I lean forward slightly. “I can’t put you on or take you off any lists. I don’t even know if they exist.”
I’m sure they do. I have no doubt that plainclothes come in here every now and again, claiming to ensure there isn’t anything illegal happening, though I doubt they actually get any farther in their investigations than the door. I have a hard time believing they actually do anything about anything they may or may not find.
“Yes, you do. Make a call, ensure everyone’s protection…”
His words trail off, and the way he’s looking at me, I can’t help but wonder if he knows something. If he knows anything about Millie and me, about the past. Our past. I start to open my mouth to ask him, but I decide against it and clench my teeth together tightly.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I mumble.
“All I can ask. Now,” Bennet continues, clapping his hands together before rubbing them back and forth a few times, “let’s get down to scheduling and shit.”
And so, scheduling is what we do. At least we get a spreadsheet of hours and when he needs us to be here. Before the girls get here and after the girls leave. Walking them to their cars, ensuring that no customers linger, all that kind of normal shit that should be going on now but doesn’t.
With the meeting finished, we all take turns shaking Bennet’s hand, then turn to walk out of the office, when there is a knock on the door. Bullet is slightly in front, so he takes a step forward and opens the door.
“Oh fuck,” he hisses. Then, as if it were happening in slow motion, he turns his head, looking back over his shoulder at me. “Millie.”
MILLIE
There, standing right in front of me, is Bullet. I haven’t seen himin ten years. He looks just as good as he did back then… Well, if I’m being completely truthful, he looks better. I didn’t know that was even possible, that any of these men could look better, but they do. And as he turns his head to look back over his shoulder, my knees tremble.
Because there, in the flesh, is Axton staring back at me.
Beautiful, tall, muscular as hell, and his eyes are the color of midnight as they bore straight into mine. I want to wrap my arms around him, something that I have to use some serious self-control about.
I knew it had been him all those weeks ago. I’m pretty sure if I checked the parking lot, I would find his pickup truck there, too, the same one that’s been following me around. I have no doubt about it.
Not that I could even ask him. My mouth is so dry that I don’t think I can actually speak. Instead, I just stare at him. At Axton. He’s beautiful, definitely looking much better than he did ten years ago.
Different and better.
He’s a little bigger, his muscles having bulked up and filled out. His hair is still dark, but I can see a few speckles of silver peeking through. He’s clean-shaven, his arms bare of tattoos, but I know there are some on his chest. I’ve seen them… I’ve tasted them.
