Page 96 of I Stop Somewhere Waiting For You

“MOTHERFUCKER!” he shouts out, dropping to one knee as he clenches the wound. I continue my advance, taking aim once more. My finger tightens around the trigger, about to fire off another shot from above when his arm shoots up, knocking my hand to the side. The bullet goes wide, embedding in the doorway behind him.

Nicky doesn’t hesitate as he lunges forward, spearing me in the legs and taking me back to the ground with him coming to land on top. The impact jostles me, causing me to lose my grip on the gun which lands on the ground beside us.

I buck my hips upward, flipping us so our positions are reversed. Gripping hold of the front of his shirt, I lift him slightly before my fist connects with his jaw.

“You son of a bitch!” I seethe, landing another hit. “My baby, Nick? SHE WAS CARRYING MY FUCKING BABY!” I roar out, my punches landing in a steady rhythm as his eyes roll about in his head. I pull him closer, his arms limp at his sides as his blood-smeared face stares up at me in anguish. “You stole everything from me,” I whisper, my body vibrating with anger. My head rears back before thrusting forward with a forceful headbutt. His eyes noticeably dim in response.

I drop his limp body back into the blacktop. Pushing to my feet, I scoop my discarded weapon as I turn, training it on his bloody broken form.

“NO!” The high-pitched scream rings out, giving momentary pause to my homicidal rage.

Daphne’s body comes into view, descending the entryway steps in nothing more than one of his shirts as she leaps on top of Nicky, shielding him from my wrath.

“Get out of the way, Daph,” I command her, my gaze still fixated on him.

“No, Bishop,” she answers me, her tone set with firm determination. “You want him? You put that bullet through me to get him.” Nicky starts to stir beneath her, his hand raising to grip his head.

“MAVERICK!” Jonsie’s voice rings out from behind me. I hear the quickened patter of her feet against the blacktop as she races into my view, positioning herself between her brother and me. “Mav, baby,” she grips my face, forcing me to look at her, “he didn’t know until after.” Her words rush out, attempting to reason with me. “I miscarried right in front of him. That’s how he found out.”

My hardened exterior cracks, allowing the pain to seep in once more. I look to her, my brain conjuring horrific images of her bleeding out, with me not there to care for her. My face falters, my body subtly shaking in an attempt to suppress the quiet sobs.

Jones places her hand atop the gun, her fingers clutching around the barrel as she removes it from my grasp. My hand lowers to my side as she steps into me, wrapping her arms around my torso. My face drops into her hair, seeking comfort as I return her embrace.

“I knew.”

I lift my head, directing my gaze back toward Nicky. He’s sitting up, hunched over with Daphne to his left. She’s covered in his blood, her delicate fingers that had been stroking his hair suddenly still with his admission.

J freezes in my arms, her head turning to the side to glance back at him over her shoulder.

“I knew…” Nicky begins again, “…about the baby… before the miscarriage.”

Thank God she has my gun, because I swear on all that’s fucking holy, if she didn’t, my clip would be emptied into him right now.

Nicky sucks in a deep breath, as though garnering strength for his explanation. “Tommy told me and Rico the night we tortured him.”

My mind instantly flashes to the exact moment. The silence that occurred as Nicky and Rico exchanged a wide-eyed glance right before they carved out his tongue. My expression hardens once more as I glare at him with seething hatred. “You cut his tongue out so he wouldn’t let it slip to me.”

He nods, refusing to meet my gaze. “I knew the second you found out, there was no way you’d give her up. I wanted her to have a fighting chance.”

I step toward him, though Jones pushes back against me. “Did you do something to the baby? Did you slip her something, so she’d lose it?”

She steadies me, her expression unreadable as she turns to face him as well.

Nicky’s head snaps up, baring a look of sheer horror. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Answer the question, Nicky,” Jonsie speaks, her voice cold and detached.

I can’t see her face right now, but whatever look she’s sending fucking guts him. His bloody, bruised face contorts into a look of emotional anguish as he shakes his head. “No, Jones. Jesus, I would never. I swear. My heart fucking shattered the day we lost it.”

“And what were you gonna do if she didn’t lose it, Nick? Hmmm?” I press him, my arms tightening around my girl’s waist as I try to maintain control. “How the fuck were you gonna keep a baby from me?”

“Honestly, Mav? I never got that far.”

“Well,” I spit, “you must have been fucking thrilled that you never had to cross that bridge. Couldn’t have a little bastard Bishop running around, could ya?”

“ENOUGH!” Nicky shoves to his feet. Daphne reaches out to steady him, but he flinches away. “She bled out on our kitchen floor, Mav.” I feel her body flinch at his recount of the events while I internally crumble at his description. “One minute I’m making breakfast and the next I’m turning to find our whole world shattering.”

“You don’t get to make this about you!” I scream out, thrusting my finger in his direction. “Because of you, I never got to hear my baby’s heartbeat. I wasn’t there to hold her hand at the ultrasound. I didn’t get to see my child move on that screen. I was going to be a father and you fucking robbed me of all that.”

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