Chapter 11: Bullet Boy?.

Before Uncle Lorenzo can say another word, a voice comes from behind me.

"Open the doors."

I freeze because of the voice.

It’s ddeep and commanding. It rolls through the room with the kind of authority that doesn’t need to be repeated.

A strange sensation crawls over my skin and my shoulders stiffen as the hairs along my arms ris and something in my chest gives an unexpected, violent thump.

I don’t know why.

I’ve heard thousands of voices in my lifetime.

But this one...i know this one, it might not be the same but I know it.

Slowly, I turn around and everything inside me stops.

No way..

My eyes widen, It can’t be.

For a moment, my brain refuses to accept what I’m seeing but he’s standing in the doorway.

Tall....Very tall.

Broad shoulders stretching beneath a perfectly tailored black suit, dark hair combed away from his face, though a few strands have fallen naturally across his forehead.

His features...God.

His features are almost unfair, beautiful would be the wrong word for most men but somehow it fits him.

Except there’s nothing soft about that beauty.

There’s something dangerous beneath it.

My heart starts beating faster.

No. No way.

I stare at him.

He looks nothing like the man I remember.

And yet...i know those eyes, those damn eyes.

Dark, Intense and uunforgettable.

My mind suddenly throws me four years into the past.

Rain, blood, a gun pressed against my temple and a wounded stranger lying across my dining table with a bullet wound.

My lips part.

"Bullet Boy..."

He doesn’t hear me Or maybe he does.

I don’t know because he walks into the room as if he owns it.

Which, judging by the way every man standing nearby immediately straightens, he probably could.

My gaze follows him.

Four years. Four fucking years.

The man I remember was already intimidating.

This version? He’s terrifying.

His body has changed a lot too. He’s filled out considerably, the sharpness of youth replaced by something harder, more muscle, more power and unfortunately...More attractiveness.

Way more.

I hate that my brain notices.

I really do but I’m not blind, I’d have to be blind to not notice that eh man is beautiful.

Beautiful in the way a storm is beautiful when you’re watching it from somewhere safe. You know it can destroy everything in its path bt just can’t stop looking.

I find it alluring. Wjat!? Don’t Judge me I’ve always been drawn to danger nd bullet boy here has danger written all over him.

I swallow.

"What the hell..."

My voice disappears when his eyes move across the room.

He looks at everyone.

One by one.

Then his gaze passes over me nd for one tiny second, our eyes meet.

My stomach flips.

Then...Nothing.

His expression doesn’t change, not even a flicker of recognition.

He looks away and I stare after him.

Excuse me?

My eyebrows pull together.

No. Absolutely not.

There’s no fucking way.

He walks toward the table, as though he didn’t just waltz into my life again after disappearing for four years through my window.

As though I didn’t once find him bleeding in the middle of the road, as though I didn’t drag his enormous ass into my apartment, cut his shirt open nd dig a bullet out of his body while he watched me like I was insane.

And most importantly...as though he didn’t point a gun at my head.

He reaches the empty chair directly opposite Uncle Lorenzo. Pulls it out and sits .

I stare at him br he doesn’t look at me again.

My mouth falls open slightly.

He doesn’t remember me?

I look at him harder.

Maybe the lighting is different, maybe four years have changed his face enough.

Maybe...No.

I recognize him, I would recognize those eyes anywhere.

That jaw, that voice.

That’s him.

Bullet Boy.

Except...He’s definitely not a boy anymore.

He’s a man, a very dangerous-looking one.

I lean slightly toward Cassian.

"Cas."

He doesn’t look at me.

"Hm?"

"Who is that?"

Cassian’s eyes flick toward the man opposite Uncle Lorenzo.

His expression changing slightly, something passes through his eyes.

Hate.

Before I can ask anything else, bullet boy speaks.

"Are we doing this or not?"

His voice sends that same strange shiver through me.

Uncle Lorenzo leans back.

"We’re waiting for everyone."

The stranger’s gaze moves toward the door.

"I don’t like waiting."

I almost laugh.

Of course he doesn’t.

Four years ago, he was bleeding to death and still acted like the entire world was inconveniencing him.

Apparently nothing has changed.

Except the muscles.

Hot damn!!

And the facr and.....

Okay.

Stop staring.

I force myself to look away, my attention returning to Cassian.

"Doing what?"

He glances at me, then at Lorenzo.

His expression tells me he knows something I don’t.

"Cas."

He doesn’t answer nd I frown.

"Cas?"

Before Cassian can respond, Uncle Lorenzo’s voice cuts through the room.

"Shhh."

I turn toward him, he doesn’t even bother looking at me.

"Don’t talk when the men are talking, Nerissa."

I stare at him.

Did he seriously just....

I sit back slowly, my fingers curling around the edge of the table.

The wood presses against my palms until my knuckles turn white.

I could say something, I should say something.

But the room is filled with men carrying guns, and apparently I’m expected to sit quietly while they discuss whatever mysterious business has dragged us here.

So I bite my tongue.

Barely.

Across from me, Bullet Boy remains perfectly still.

He hasn’t looked at me again.

Not once.

Which somehow irritates me more than if he’d stared.

I glance at him, then away, then back again.

Nothing....Not even a reaction.

I narrow my eyes at hm.

You reall don’t recognize me?