Page 84 of I Stop Somewhere Waiting For You

“You’ve been talking to her,” I accused as I caught up to him. “How long?”

“Since you dumped her for that fucking nut job skank you force me to share living quarters with.” He continued walking ahead of me, not bothering to look back.

“WHAT?! Are you—?”

“Am I what Mav?” Finn spun to face me, cutting me off. “Am I serious? Yes, I’m fucking serious. I texted her a few days after everything went down. I didn’t get a response for almost a month, but eventually she hit me back. I checked in on her a bunch in the beginning, then just occasionally after that. We still talk a few times a year.”

“Why?” I forced out, my jaw tight.

“Because it’s what you would’ve wanted, you fucking asshole. And deep down, you know that.”

I spun away, scrubbing a hand over my face, my eyes squeezed shut.

“Mav,” he called out to me. “Mav!”

I looked back to him, no longer sure if I was ready to handle the conversation.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” he scoffed, tossing his hands out to the side. “Why are you subjecting yourself to a life without her? You’re miserable.” He gestured around the corner. “She’s miserable.”

“You know why!” I cried out in frustration.

“Oh, fuck you, Bishop.” He waved me off, tossing his hands up in annoyance. “You’re an idiot. That girl will always have a massive target on her back because of who her brother is. She will always be potential collateral damage because of Nicky. Being your wife offered her way more protections than risks.”

I eyed him following his use of the word “wife.”

“Yeah, that’s right, bitch,” he continued. “Poured your ass into bed one night after one of your benders. I found the ring in your bedside table while looking for Advil. You fucked up when you let Nicky get in your head. Truth is, we would have protected her. YOU would have protected her.” Finn advanced, coming nose to nose with me. “Pull your head out of your ass and go get your girl, because if I have to deal with you like this for the rest of our lives, put the fucking bullet in me now.” He backed away, spinning to head down the street. “I’m going to Lounge to do the books before lunch. Call me when I’m allowed to throw the cunt out!”

I stared after him, mulling over his words, suddenly second-guessing every choice I made these last four years involving her.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered as I turned to clear my head with a walk.

Suddenly, J’s douche of a boyfriend rounded the corner, heading my way. He looked pissed, lost in his thoughts. So much so that he almost walked past me. However, at the last second, he looked up, my presence giving him pause.

Caleb glanced back toward the way he came, ensuring Jones wasn’t following, before he approached me. My posture straightened, arms coming to cross over my chest. At least he had more balls than I initially gave him credit for.

“Bishop, right?” He eyed me up and down.

I stand stoic, my gaze firmly fixated on him.

“I’m going to assume, based on the tattoo on your neck, that’s a yes. I’m also going to assume that the tattoo on her neck has something to do with you.”

The thought of him touching her, especially there, had me itching to pull my weapon. Yet, by some miracle, I stayed calm. “I’m not responsible for your assumptions. You got a question? You take it up with J.”

“I will speak to Joanna about this as well, but I just want to be clear. She is happy with me. We’re building a life together.” He stepped closer to me. This bitch. “I think it would be best for everyone if you keep your distance.” He then turned away, casting a final judgmental glance before continuing on in the direction he was originally heading.

The corner of my mouth turned up at the realization of what he’d said. My feet were suddenly moving swiftly toward the restaurant I assumed she’d been heading toward. Because that motherfucker just warned me off. He warned me off because he was worried. And if he was worried, it meant I still had a chance.

The elevator doors ding open, and I’m catapulted back to the present. I exit into the small foyer in front of my door. Placing the key in the slot, I’m surprised to find it’s already unlocked. Pulling my gun from my waistband, I press my ear to the door. At first, all’s quiet. Then I hear it. The faint sounds of someone moving about within.

Bracing myself for the worst, I throw open the door with my weapon drawn.

“Jesus, Mav!” Amber shouts, throwing her hands up in front of her.

I freeze, gun still trained on her, though if looks could kill, my gaze would incinerate her where she stands.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” My voice comes out hard, my jaw straining as I legitimately fight to maintain control and not shoot her.

“Maverick, can you please drop the gun?” she calmly requests, though I can tell from how she’s eyeing me she’s nervous.

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