"The gun missed your heart by an inch. You are very lucky, Dalton. You could have died. I know you think you're all mighty and powerful, but you have no superpowers. You can bleed and die."
Dalton shifted in the bed, growing weary of Oliver's whining. "Stop your bitchy moaning, Oliver. I want to sleep."
"It's getting too dangerous, Dalton. You might not survive the next bullet."
Dalton looked into his younger brother's eyes, which were filled with sadness and fear, and he felt a guilty ache inside.
"I promise I won't let a bullet touch me. If it does, I have you to take it out," Dalton said, his lips curving
