Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8

  Bullet

  The Complete Series

  Jade C. Jamison

  Bullet: Part One

  An Epic Rock Star Novel

  Chapter One

  Present

  ETHAN STUMBLED IN through the front door, a three-fourths empty bottle of Jack Daniels in hand. I awoke from my light sleep on the couch. I didn’t even feel like cursing anymore. But the facts were hard to deny. Drunk again.

  This had become our nightly ritual. I would doze on the couch waiting for Ethan to come home drunk. Only tonight was different. I had to break the news to him.

  He clomped across the room and I said, “Ethan, would you sit down for a minute, please?”

  Usually, I would just stare at him, my eyes full of hope, but he would just go to the bedroom and pass out on the bed with his clothes still on. Things had changed, though…and he had to know.

  With a look of confusion (or irritation—I wasn’t sure which), he trod across the floor and fell into the chair next to the couch. His words were slurred. Big surprise. “Are you mad at me, Val?” He set the bottle on the coffee table with a little more force than he’d intended. It was loud, but he just blinked.

  No, I wasn’t mad at him. I had grown used to Ethan coming home in this condition. For months now, he’d been coming home this way. Only occasionally would he come home early (and sober) as the Ethan I’d grown to love. Those few precious nights were the nights when he’d hold me in his arms all night long and remind me that he really did love me.

  “No, Ethan, but I want you to listen to me carefully.” His glazed, bloodshot eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. He slowly lifted his shaky hand to run through his long, tousled reddish-brown hair. I’d spent hours earlier thinking of exactly what to say, but now it felt like a struggle to force the words out of my mouth. “I really don’t know how to say this, so I’m just gonna spit it out.” I inhaled a deep breath and forced myself to look him in the eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

  He looked confused again and then sat back in the chair. His eyes had changed from the slits they’d been to wide open; they looked full of disbelief. “You’re what? But how?”

  Hmm…well, how could I explain it to him? It wasn’t his fault, but I didn’t feel like it was mine either. No sense lying about it. I swallowed and found the courage to just say it. “Well, since we hardly…have sex anymore, I stopped taking the pill.” I really couldn’t call it making love, since love hardly seemed involved lately. Anymore, when we bothered, it was simply out of need. The love, the passion…it was gone, and I didn’t know if we could ever get it back.

  He just stared forward for what seemed like hours. He didn’t look at me, just looked ahead. I could hear the clock in the hall tick-tocking and Ethan’s heavy, erratic breathing. I had feared he would react this way—angry—but I wouldn’t give up my child. I had always wanted to be a mother. But was he angry? I couldn’t tell. In all the years I’d known Ethan, I still had problems telling what he was thinking. In fact, it was that mystery that used to intrigue me, keep me excited, on my toes. Now it just made me nervous as hell.

  The minutes ticked away. Was he taking so long because of his drunken stupor (and was he on the verge of falling asleep), or was he searching for how to put his thoughts into words? And would his words make me angry too?

  How much simpler my life would be if I had never met Ethan Richards. I wouldn’t have to worry about my husband’s response to when I had to confess I was pregnant, if he would come home sober, if he had been faithful…but that was all wishful thinking. I couldn’t have married another man. I loved my Ethan way too much, even though he’d been fucked up beyond recognition for quite some time. I loved his heart, his soul. I loved the way his full lips turned up in a smile when I caught his hard green eyes. I loved the way he’d grown out his hair, how it flowed past his neck, his rock hard arms—I loved it all. No matter what had happened between us, I knew I would always love him.

  And now, I guessed, was the time I’d find out how much he loved me. I’d lost a lot of sleep the past few nights wondering when I should break the news. Even now I wondered if I’d chosen the right time. But it was too late to wonder. It was already done, and I just had to wait for him to respond.

  Finally, he broke the silence. I was happy to see a twinkle penetrate his eye, his mouth crack open in a smile. “That’s fucking fantastic, Val.” His response, much to my surprise, was positive. Of all reactions, this was the one I had hoped for the most but expected the least. After I recovered from my initial shock, he continued. “You know I’ve always wanted to be a father. I’ll be a great dad.” He sucked in a deep breath, but his smile hadn’t faded. I could tell he wanted to believe what he was saying. “I’ll quit drinking, smoking, partying. I’ll act like a real father should.” He stood up. “I can’t believe we’re having a baby.” With that, he fell back into the chair.

  I hadn’t expected him to say anything that good. I had thought he’d be angry, frustrated, and upset at the thought of a baby. We had talked about children in the vaguest way, as a future far-off, someday dream, and we had agreed we wouldn’t have children until we’d both felt we were ready. So the fact that he not only accepted the idea but even liked it was hard for me to believe. Ethan had never wanted to be tied down…and here he was with a wife and soon-to-be-born baby. His happiness was incredible.

  “Ethan…are you serious?”

  He didn’t blink. “Valerie, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

  I guessed I would soon find out just how serious he was.

  Chapter Two

  Past

  THE STORY OF Ethan and me is a long one. We met when we were both eighteen, much too young to make decisions about love or marriage. It was hard enough deciding about college.

  As a teenager, I guess I was what you might consider cute. I had shoulder-length brown hair, sparkly blue-green eyes, slightly overweight (I’m talking ten pounds—just enough to give me cushion, you know?). I was also what my mother had called a social butterfly—I found it easy to make new friends, and I wasn’t shy.

  I’d decided to attend college at…well, maybe I shouldn’t say. I was moving from my hometown of Winchester, Colorado, to one of the smaller universities located in a small, sleepy college town far away from home. If you’ve ever visited Colorado schools like Adams State, Fort Lewis, or Western State, then you know the kind of town and the kind of college I’m talking about. But…well, this story has needed to be written for a while, and I’m changing some of the names and the places to protect the innocent…and the guilty too. And, bottom line, I suppose it doesn’t really matter where I went to college, only that I did, and that’s where Ethan and I met. The town where I went to college really wasn’t much different from Winchester, but it was my first time living away from home, over two hundred miles away. I was homesick at first but soon got swept up in the pace of college life.

  I lived in the dorms and got stuck with a roommate who thought she was God’s gift to teenage boys. Charlotte Edwards’s only gift to men was her free favors. And, lucky me, I got to experience them all. I was a young, naïve virgin, raised in a strict Christian atmosphere, sheltered from a lot of real life, so Charlotte was hard for me to take at first.

  I was sure she was trouble the minute I moved in. Above her bed hung a poster of a close-to-nude man, something that—at the time—had made me blush. The guy was clean shaven but with a little bit of stubble, dark brown bedroom eyes, huge muscles, no shirt on, his jeans unzipped, his hand snaking down into his underwear, suggesting that he was all hot and bothered for whatever woman walked into his gaze. Yeah, that poster made me uncomfortable…even if I had to admit later that the guy was ho
t as hell.

  Worse, though, was her blatant advertising of who she was and what she wanted, now that she was out from under her parents’ roof. On the desk lay a compact of birth control pills. And she danced around the room in a lacy red teddy with some kind of mood music on her boom box, some R&B tune I hadn’t heard before.

  I was grateful that my mother, father, and brother were waiting outside in the truck for me. They’d sent me inside to find the resident advisor, affectionately known as our RA, who in turn gave me a map of campus and a key to my room. I wanted to locate the room first and then get my family so we could start hauling in all my things.

  I hid my initial horror and became the always polite girl I tended to be. “Hi. I’m your roommate, Valerie Quinn.”

  “Hi. I’m Charlotte Edwards. Where you from?”

  “Winchester. What about you?”

  She gave me a funny look and tossed her long black hair behind her shoulder. “Where the fuck is that?”

  Well, that was rude. “Do you know where Colorado Springs is?”

  “Duh.”

  “Winchester’s about an hour away, to the west.” I still wanted to play nice. “Where are you from?”

  “Denver.”

  “So why’d you decide to come here to college?” I knew there were already some good schools in and around Denver, so I was curious why she wanted to go so far away from home. Maybe she’d earned a scholarship or something.

  But, in a matter-of-fact voice, she said, “Change of scenery.” And she decided to leave it at that.

  “Well, this is definitely a change of scenery. Anyway, my parents and brother are going to help me drag all my stuff in here. You don’t mind, do you?” I was hoping she’d take the hint and change into something a little less comfortable.

  “It’s your room, too.” Luckily for me, she reached in one of her dresser drawers for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and pulled them on.

  “Be right back.” As I walked down the hall, I thought, Everything’s going to be all right. She seems nice. First impressions aren’t always right. I guess I was too young to know I should follow my intuition.

  My parents, brother, and I started taking boxes out of the back of the truck and placing them on my side of the dorm room. When everyone had set down the first load, I said, “Mom, dad, Danny, this is my roommate, Charlotte Edwards. Charlotte, this is my family.”

  Danny, a good-looking junior in high school, could hardly keep from drooling on his shirt. Charlotte’s long, shiny black hair draped over her t-shirt, the little piercing in her nose flashing every time she tilted her head in that way she thought made her look cute, and her brown eyes smoldered with continual lust…for my little brother?

  My graying parents seemed neutral—they showed nothing positive or negative toward my new roommate, but they did notice the poster above her bed and seemed dismayed. Did I already mention my parents were deeply religious?

  “Hello, Charlotte.” My father put out his hand to shake hers. Maybe that’s where I got my politeness—from my dad.

  “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Quinn, right?” She accepted my father’s handshake and then shook my mother’s hand. “Danny.” She extended her hand to his, a smirk on her face. Well, I thought, this is one boy she won’t get.

  But she too was polite as we carried in my boxes. She even offered to help with a few.

  When the truck was entirely unloaded, I walked with my family to where it was parked so we could exchange goodbyes. “Valerie,” my mother said, “I hope everything works out. Charlotte seems nice, but…I don’t know about her. I hope you can get along with her.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  My mother was having a hard time seeing me in this environment, leaving her nest for good. Out of Danny and me, I was the oldest child, so she’d never gone through this before. Tears welled up in her eyes as she hugged me. “Keep your grades up, honey. Have fun. And remember we love you.”

  My father kissed me on the cheek. Then Danny, Mr. Cool, said, “Bye, sis. Don’t miss me too much.”

  “Come here, you little twerp, and give me a hug.”

  He did and then whispered, “I’m gonna miss you, ya know.”

  “Yeah, I’ll miss you, too.”

  They got in the truck, and I stood there for a few minutes after they’d left. I’d waved goodbye to my family, my home, my friends…and my childhood.

  * * *

  I set the last box on my bed and started sifting through its assorted contents, deciding where to put them (not that there were a whole lot of choices). Charlotte lay on her bed, once again clad in just her little red teddy. She thumped her hand on her bed to the beat of the music she was playing, some Lady Gaga song I’d never heard before. “Hey, Valerie, why don’t you invite your little brother up to visit for a weekend?”

  My back was turned from her face as I continued sifting through my box. I was glad, because I’m sure my expression was one of shock at the very least. This girl wasn’t trying very hard to make a friend. “Why? He’s busy.” I suspected I knew why she was interested in my brother, but I figured she was just asking to get under my skin.

  “Busy? Doing what?”

  “For one thing, he’s on the football team.” I pulled some pencils out of the box and put them in my desk drawer. Once again, I repeated my question, “Why?”

  Her lips curled up in a half smile. “He’s awfully cute, you know.”

  “He’s in high school.”

  She raised her eyebrows, the smirk still firmly affixed to her face, making her tiny upturned nose look pug-like. I was starting to not like this girl. “So? He’s probably still had a little experience.”

  I started laughing, unable to help myself. “You don’t know my family very well.” Our parents had us on tight leashes, so, while my brother might have had a little experience, that was likely all he’d had. “Sorry, Charlotte, but he can’t come up.”

  “Oh, I get it. I guess I’m just not good enough for your brother.”

  The last thing I wanted was an argument with my new roommate on my first day away from home. “No, that’s not it. I don’t know you well enough to make that call. But I can tell you he wouldn’t be able to make it. It’s a long drive and he has a lot on his plate.”

  “It’s not that long of a drive.” She sat up. “I’m going to the restroom. Excuse me.” Her tone of voice was nothing like the sicky-sweet purr she’d used earlier. She stomped across the room and walked out the door to find the restrooms down the hall. I started to suspect this school year would be a long one.

  * * *

  Good-looking guys roamed every part of the campus. A girl could get lost just looking at all of them—well, this girl, at least. But the ones I got to know during my first month on campus were either taken already or not the guys a father would want his daughter to date. And, since I’m inherently a people pleaser, especially when it came to my parents, that made them off limits…while my guard was up, anyway.

  Needless to say, in spite of Charlotte, I enjoyed my first few weeks of college. It was tough, but the professors and other students were friendly and helpful, and that meant a lot to this small town never-been-away-from-home girl. I soon became familiar with the campus and the surrounding college town. I loved the weather (so far) and the surrounding countryside. I began to feel like this place might be a nice home for the next four years.

  I was a happy freshman the first month and a half. But October rolled around to eventually change the entire course of my future: I met him.

  I walked into a building full of stuffy classrooms from the beautiful crisp outside. The sun had been shining brightly as leaves were beginning to fall. I was a little disappointed because I had to sit in a dull history class instead of walking on campus, listening to the soft crunch of dead leaves beneath my feet.

  I set my books on the desktop, and I slid into its cramped seat. As I waited for the professor to walk in, I glanced around the room…and saw him. I wondered why I’d never notic
ed him before, but I knew why. I’d pretty much kept to myself for the most part the first month or two as I adjusted and tried to find my way around this new world. But as I became more relaxed, more comfortable with my environment, I felt that I could stretch my legs a little.

  So I spotted him. And he was probably one of the best-looking guys on campus. How had I never noticed him before? I immediately became intrigued by this handsome stranger. He appeared to be close to my age, and I fell in love with his shoulder-length reddish-brown hair, his light-emerald green eyes, his firm, strong jaw. He didn’t appear to be overly tall sitting in that desk, but he didn’t look short either, and—even from where I sat—I could see his biceps were nicely sculpted. One plus—he wasn’t talking to anyone either…that is, a girl. But even on that first day, I saw a look of anger in his eyes, a look of hate, of revenge—from where I sat, it was barely noticeable, but it was there, just the same, and it would always be there. I think that attracted me the most. It made him mysterious. I should have known then to stay away from him. But I’ve always been the kind to take on a challenge. I decided then and there that I would sit beside him the next time our class met.

  * * *

  I shut the door to my tiny dorm room behind me and placed my books on my desk. I sat down in the chair and finally muttered hi to Charlotte. She was lying on her bed reading and didn’t move her eyes from her book to mumble hi back.

  I decided I should make an effort to get along with her. If I had to spend an entire school year with her, I needed to talk to her once in a while and make the effort to connect. So, when she set her book down on her bed with a bored look on her face, I told her about the guy in my history class and how I had decided to sit by him in the next class period. Her response was “So what?”

  No, my jaw didn’t drop and keep in mind I was young. I should have realized that maybe I needed to make a few attempts to get on her good side. Instead, I felt my ire stir a little. I figured she was unimpressed because here I was, Virginal Valerie, a girl who’d primly dated the occasional boy, and there was Charlotte, sexually wise beyond her years, bringing a different boy to her bed every weekend. She probably thought I was stupid (not true), naïve (yeah, that was right on), and not worth her time. I didn’t think, though, that it gave her the right to be rude and offensive, especially when I was trying to make nice. But, no matter what I thought, I did at least try to continue to be nice, even though overtones of anger and impatience surely showed through it. “So what? He’s cute!”