I really freaking wish I had spent more time on my hair and makeup instead of being rushed out the door by my own anxiety. I only managed to splash on some tinted moisturizer and mascara. I leaned up from the plush leather seat, grabbing my cherry lip balm out of my pocket and smothering some on, just enough to make my lips feel kissable. Stupid.
Nate’s matte black 2018 Audi-something pulled to a stop, just outside the front doors to Bishop’s home. I swallowed the memories that this house raised and reached for the door handle. Nate cut off the loud car, halting me with his hand on my other arm.
“Seriously,” I gritted. “How much did this car cost you?”
He shrugged. “Was a present, it’d be rude to not accept.”
“Trust fund brat,” I muttered, just as his door closed. I pushed mine open and got out, noticing Bishop’s matte black Maserati GranTurismo. “Did you make it this low and supped up? Like what is with all of you boys, you all ride in damn near half a million dollar cars and SUV’s, then you guys all modify them to look like something fresh out of Fast and Furious.”
I eyed Nate’s new car. It really was beautiful, even though it was extremely low to the ground. The wheels were splattered with gloss black and the windows were also black.
“Well, dear sister, first of all, have you forgotten we all race?” He quirked his eyebrow, closing my door. “Well, for shits and giggles mostly, and to run shit around town for Hector daddy boss.”
“No, I hadn’t forgotten, I’m just waiting for the time to bombard you all with my millions of questions. I figure if I ask you separately, you’re more inclined to answer me. Whereas if I push all these questions on you all at once, there’s a chance you guys will let a few answers slip and I may not catch them. I’m being thorough.” We were walking through the side gate now, heading straight for Bishop’s pool house. The architecture continued to render me speechless. His pool house was an exact replica of the main house, only smaller, and it was more like a two-bedroom loft, fitted with an open fireplace, a small bar, lush red marble counters, and the stairs that lead to his bedroom were built with glass. Nerves began to eat at me, and I stopped walking, silently freaking out. What if he was in bed with Khales? I couldn’t be mad at him, but I knew it would shatter me. Besides the fact that yes, I had handled things erratically in the past, I didn’t think I’d ever allow another man to physically put his dick in me—no matter how dizzy I may be at the time. Bishop, on the other hand, was a male. And he was—Bishop. Shit.
“Kitty, it’ll be ok. Whatever happens from here, just swallow what you see.”
My eyebrows pulled in together, then I let myself get lost in Nate’s eyes. The comfort of knowing I could trust him eloped me, and I quickly nodded my head. I could do this—regardless, and I needed to do this. I needed to tell him everything and fuck the consequences. We continued toward the pool house and then climbed the little wrap around porch. Adrenaline spiked through me, and just as Nate went to knock (even though I damn well know he never knocked with Bishop or any of the other guys before), I twisted the door handle and pushed open the door. Fuck it. I was Madison fucking Montgomery, and Bishop Vincent mother-fucking Hayes was mine.
There was laughing in the kitchen, then it went silent. Bishop stalked around, my lady parts humming. He looked pissed, and pissed Bishop was always a glorious sight. He was shirtless, the ripples of his tight body on display for me to wander, then my eyes dropped down to his jeans. Slightly loose, with tears and rips in all the right places, bare feet, and then my eyes slowly traveled their way back up again. He had a cap flipped backward, his hair sticking out the edges slightly, a bottle of Jack dangled from between his fingers, and then I zeroed in on his eyes. They hardened on me, and he bared his teeth with a slight hiss, eyeing me up and down in disgust.
Oh shit.
He was way past pissed.
He sauntered into the little room even more, his swagger mixed between a relaxed soldier getting ready to go to war, and a loose teenage boy who gives no fucks.
He was… was he drunk?
“Bishop?” Stupid first thing to say, but it was all I could manage.
“Oh, shieeetttt,” Nate shuddered, quickly opening the door again. “Yo, Kitty, we should come back…”
Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming rush to run. It was as though Nate and I just walked straight into the lion’s den, and I’m almost certain we were about to be ripped to pieces. Dumbest decision ever. Why the hell did I think it would be a great idea to come and poke the monster that I created? Well, because like the stupid girl I was, I thought the monster would forgive me. Monsters don’t forgive, especially ones who have tattoos and drive Maseratis.
I sucked down my nerves when his chest brushed against my breasts. I stepped backward quickly, my back smashing against the wall, knocking down a painted canvas.
His nose came to mine, and I slammed my eyes closed. I couldn’t open them. I couldn’t face him.
“Open your fucking eyes, Kitty,” he whispered devilishly, his lips brushing against mine ever so softly. So faintly, I fell for it and my eyes opened. Terror seized my muscles when I saw his pupils were dilated, his eyes almost pure black. They looked erratic, deranged and unhinged. This was Bishop not in control. He would always say how he hated getting drunk, and it really just wasn’t in his nature to do so. He was always in charge of his surroundings. It was unchartered territory him being drunk, and I was going in completely blind.
“Leave, dawg,” was all he said, his eyes staying on mine, but his words directed at Nate. His hips slowly pressed into my pelvic area, pinning me to the wall. He raised the bottle to his lips, took a swig, his eyes still on mine, and then dropped his arm, the other coming up to the side of my head, half caging me in. He smelled like Bishop. Minty, leathery, with a slight dose of cologne and soap, but now that was also mixed with whiskey. Shit. He tilted his head toward Nate when he saw he wasn’t moving. “I’ll deal with you this weekend. The way we deal with things. For now? Get the fuck outta my face, bruh.”
“What’s going on in here!” an unfamiliar voice interrupted jokingly. I tried to peek around Bishop to see who it was, but he blocked my view.
“Nah uh, kitty. Don’t want you getting ideas with this one.”
“Nate?” I whispered, my eyes on Bishop’s. There was no way I was going to be able to escape this. So I would stick it out and with him. Anyway, I’d rather I be here with him while he’s in this state so I can look after him. “I’ll be ok.”
Nate’s eyes flew between the two of us, but I witnessed right then and there the power difference between Bishop and Nate. If you didn’t know it yet, you would definitely know right then that Bishop was the alpha.
Bishop laughed, his head going back as he pushed off the wall, his dick pressing into my stomach roughly before standing straight with his shoulders back. “She definitely won’t be ok, but you can’t do shit about it.” Now he was going toward Nate. “I’d leave right now. We all know what happened last time I was this drunk, huh?”
Nate took a deep breath, and then looked back at me. “Text me if it gets bad. I don’t believe he’d hurt you—regardless.”
“That’s why you aren’t very smart, pup,” Bishop grinned at him, and then headed for the sofa in the lounge.
My head bobbed. This wasn’t the first time I had been terrified at the hands of Bishop, but no matter how scared I had been in my life, there was always a firefly sitting underneath that fear. That firefly held the light of hope.
Nate left, closing the door, and then I finally let my eyes go to the other guy who was in the room. He was shirtless too and was a little older than Bishop. He was bulky in the muscle department, veins popping out everywhere and had a long, thick dark beard. He didn’t look that old, because his body was beautiful, and his face looked young, I would say he had to be around thirty-one, or something. He was eyeing me as if trying to make a decision on me, and then he scoffed and shook his head, leaning forward on his elbows. Bishop lit up a—what I’m guessing—was a J, brought it to his mouth and inhaled before passing it to the big guy.
He hit play on his phone which was linked to the massive sound system set up he had around the entire room. He grinned, leaning back on the sofa, his leg perched up on the coffee table where there was a little mirror sitting on with lines of cocaine laid out and a rolled-up dollar bill. Fucking hell. The song started playing, and it was “#icanteven” from The Neighbourhood. Great. I have a whole night of this shit.
“You might wanna get into something more revealing than that, Kitty. Go in my room,” he paused, his eyes boring into mine with intensity. His lip curled into an evil grin. “I’m sure Khales left some of her shit in there from today.”
Big guy started coughing and laughing, banging on his chest with smoke escaping out of his mouth and nostrils.
“I’m good. Thanks,” I bit out, ignoring the fire of jealousy that ignited deep in my gut.
His eyes raked down my body. “You really ain’t.”
Ouch.
Ignore him. I took a seat on the floor in front of the fireplace. I forgot all about Khales for the brief second I was here, and I really hoped she didn’t come in.
“Kitty, c’mere.” Bishop looked over his shoulder and patted the spot next to him. I stood and followed his orders, sinking down onto the sofa. “Nice and Slow” by Usher started playing next. Cringe. A little intense.
Big guy nodded at me. “I’m Justin. This little shit’s older cousin.”
My eyes ran over his body, and up close, I could see the silver scars marring into his skin. In old English writing, the word “Lost, don’t find” was across his chest. He was a Lost Boy? I didn’t want to ask any questions, so I just smiled. “I’m Madison.”
Bishop’s arm casually snaked around the back of me as his head tilted back with the joint in his mouth.
Justin chuckled, picking up the rolled-up bill. “I know who you are, Swan.”
“I guess you would.” The slow song was really throwing me off with the setting, and my fingers itched to change it to something more upbeat. I could see Bishop’s head tilt toward me out of the corner of my eye.
“What’s the matter, Kitty, don’t wanna play games anymore?” He curled a few of my strands around his finger, and then stood, dropping the roach into the ashtray. “Too bad.” Then he climbed the stairs. “Get changed, cos.”
Justin’s eyes found mine again. “If I wasn’t so pissed at you for putting him through this, I would say it was nice to meet you, but, I’d be surprised if you make it through tonight without getting killed.”
He stood up and stretched like he hadn’t just threatened my freaking life, and then went to the small bedroom behind the kitchen. With both of them out of sight, I finally let out a huge sigh of relief and reached for my phone. I saw Nate had texted me a few times and quickly opened them.
He won’t hurt you, but I can’t do jack shit, mads.
Text back, you all good?
Fuck.
I quickly texted out a reply.
I’m fine. We’re going out somewhere though.
Then I opened Tatum’s texts.
Dude, I think I’m still drunk.
I hit reply.
Wish I was, but unfortunately, I’m on babysitting duties.
I hit send and then opened to send her another.
BTW, if I go missing, Bishop totally killed me.