Bullet: Devil's Rose MC #5

Chapter 24: Piper Bardot

The rain pours harder outside, the drops thudding upon the roof of the truck, and the windshield wipers swish back and forth violently. I grip onto the seat and close my eyes. Now, that may not be the smartest thing to do at this moment, but I can't help it. 

This truck was not built for heavy rain like this, and it's super fricking old. I'm not prepared to die tonight. Eventually, Bullet has to pull the truck over for a moment to give himself a minute of rest. It does rain in Texas, there's no doubt about that, but this rain is more dangerous than it usually is.

"How are you doing, angel?"

"I might become an angel if we keep driving in this."

"Would you rather wait it out?"

"Wouldn't you?"

He would, not that he wants to admit that. It's been a long day for him, and I think the last thing he wants to do is talk about his feelings. He's already done enough of that in the past twelve hours.

"Just until the rain slows a bit."

He turns off the car, unbuckles his seatbelt, and leans back into his seat. He closes his eyes and heaves a deep sigh. He sighs a lot. I just noticed that. Anyway, I turn the car light on my side and reach into my tote bag, pulling out Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine.

"What are you reading?"

"It's called Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, and it's amazing."

"Read to me."

"Are you sure?"

"I need to hear your voice."

I clear my throat, feeling slightly anxious to read out loud.

"I suppose one of the reasons we're all able to continue to exist for our allotted span in this green and blue vale of tears is that there is always, however remote it might seem, the possibility of change. I never thought, in my strangest imaginings..."

***

I sniffle as I clamber toward the door, a pile of tissues I was about to throw in the trash in my right hand. My glasses are about to fall off my red and dry nose, my hair is in a collapsing messy bun, my eyes watering due to my cold, and my feet dragging against the floor at the effort to make it to my apartment door. 

The doctors at the hospital told me that after my chemotherapy and cancer treatments other sicknesses such as the cold and flu may be worse. I didn't believe them at the time. Now I know that they were completely right.

I rib my nose with the back of my hand as I open the door, thinking it would only be Dakota who doesn't give two shits about what I look like. I mean, not that anyone else does, but I just feel more comfortable around her than anyone else. 

Not including Bullet, he's starting to treat me better. I can tell that he's slowly healing from his less physical ailments.

However, when I see who is truly at the door with multiple bags of unknown items in his hands, I'm stunned. So stunned that I sneeze almost directly at him.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

"No, angel, no worries."

"Bullet, I just launched like a million germs at you."

"If I get sick, at least I'll be sick with you. Now, are you gonna let me in?"

"Uh...I don't think you're prepared."

"I don't care. Let me in. Let me take care of you. I'll clean if I have to."

I gaze into his electric blue eyes, my heart palpitating erratically, but I don't see any judgment within them. With the blanket laying over his left broad shoulder, a shopping bag on the right, and about other five bags in his tattooed hands, it's clear to me that he's only here to help and heal me.