Page 15 of Bishop

“I’m sure you did,” Hawk returned, confident in my ability to look after myself. “But your sister’s in the car, and when she gets a load of your face, she’s going to break down into tears. And I can’t have that, man.”

Double fuck. Amelia was here. That was definitely going to complicate matters. “Christ, Hawk! Why did you bring her to this shithole?”

I loved my sister fiercely. So naturally, I didn’t want her to see me like this. That’s why I never let her visit me the entire six months I’d been on the inside. I didn’t want her to have that terrible memory of me. Plus, I didn’t want to give fuckwad guards like Pecker the opportunity to feel my beautiful sister up when she was being patted down and brag about it later. I’d have to kill the man for disrespect like that, and I had no interest in doing a life sentence for the manslaughter of someone so insignificant.

“You think I could stop her?” Hawk stated incredulously. “Fuck, Brother! You know Amelia. She’s stubborn as shit. It was all I could do to keep her from crawling over the Goddamned gates to see you. There was no way I was going to come here today without her by my side. I wanted to bring you some Club pussy for a proper welcome home, but that wasn’t exactly going to be possible with your sister riding shotgun.”

I scrubbed a hand down my tired face. “I guess you’re right.”

“Plus,” Hawk continued, “she’d have seen you at your party tonight anyway. You wouldn’t exactly be able to hide the bruises from her then. Might as well get it over with now.”

I sighed dramatically. “My party? Tell me you're joking.”

Though I appreciated the fact that everyone wanted to celebrate my return, I wasn’t in the mood for a party. As much as I enjoyed them before doing time, I’d have much rather gotten fucked up quietly in my room with just a handful of Club girls to get me off. No, that wasn’t true. I would have settled for just one. My green-eyed innocent doe, Evie. That would have been a welcome home any guy would have been thankful for.

Hawk snorted. “You didn’t think your sister would miss an opportunity to throw you a welcome home party, did you, Bishop? Man, how hard did those Nazi twats hit you?”

I laughed. “Don’t get it twisted, asshole. I let them get a few knocks in. Don’t you know what they say?” I teased my Club VP. “Chicks dig scars.”

* * *

I sat in the back of the car with Amelia’s golden retriever, Ryder, petting the friendly beast while my sister talked a mile a minute. I’d barely been able to get in a word edgewise the entire time. However, despite the perpetual word vomit, her presence was more comforting to me than anything else in this world could have been. Everything about the woman felt like home to me and it hit me hard just how much I’d missed her while I was away as I listened to her constant, excited chatter.

When she’d seen my face, Amelia had valiantly fought back the tears and given me a bone-jarring hug. “Do you want to talk about it?” she’d asked quietly, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from crying.

Shaking my head, she’d nodded wordlessly. I appreciated that response more than anything she could have ever said to soothe the hurt.

Stepping into the door of the Clubhouse, I was greeted by my chosen family. My Brothers. They cheered me on like I was Babe Ruth taking the field at Yankee Stadium. A beer and several shots were simultaneously forced into my hand and down my throat before I could even speak. Damn! It was good to be home.

Jokes were made about my bruises, about how many guys I’d sucked off while in prison, and which one of the Club girls I wanted to fuck first now that I was home. After about an hour of shooting the shit and drinking, I walked dizzily to the bathroom to take a piss. After six months of abstinence, my tolerance for liquor wasn’t what it used to be.

Before prison, I loved the noise and chaos that Club life offered. Afterward, I felt desperate for a quiet space to retreat to. The thing I wanted most right now was to shower off the stink of my stay at Cantiville, eat some good food, and nut about ten times in the hottest girls I could get my hands on. After that, I’m sure I’d return to my old, lighthearted self.

Wanting my hot shower first, I snuck off to my room, locked the doors behind me, stripped off my clothes, and turned the water on full blast. When it was hot enough to boil a lobster, I stepped inside and took the longest, most well-appreciated shower of my life.

* * *

Evie

I didn’t have the space to fit everything in my small car, so Angel and her husband showed up in a van to help truck it all over to Reaper's Clubhouse.

Angel’s husband was a huge guy with colorful tattoos and a no-nonsense attitude. I couldn’t believe my sweet friend had been brave enough to talk to the guy, let alone date him. They seemed so different, and yet, they worked so seamlessly together.

Plus, I could tell they were both crazy about each other. In the few minutes I’d spent with the two of them, they couldn’t keep their hands off one another. I was jealous of their connection. I’d never had anything close to that in my relationships. Well, make that relationship. I’d only ever dated one guy seriously. Due to my unstable upbringing, I had major trust issues where guys were concerned. Hence my never being able to trust one enough to let a man get close enough to lose my virginity to. And with my parents, who could blame me?

Angel rode shotgun as I followed behind Reaper’s van. I wasn’t sure what I should wear to the party, so I wore something lowkey. I’d chosen some wide-legged, ass-hugging jeans, a tight t-shirt, and a pair of kitten-heeled boots that didn’t allow my hem to drag along the floor. I’d also left my chestnut hair down. The thick mass fell just above my butt in loose waves and it was actually cooperating for once, which I appreciated. As far as makeup was concerned, I wasn’t much of a fan, so I’d only worn some tan eyeshadow and my favorite drugstore mascara.

“Are you sure I’m dressed appropriately?” I asked my friend, checking for the umpteenth time. “I never get out and I don’t even know what constitutes party attire anymore,” I confessed with an embarrassed laugh.

Angel patted my leg. “You look great. I promise. This party is a casual one. Some women will be dressing up, others down. It’s really a free-for-all at Devil’s parties like this.”

“Gotcha,” I said, my hands nervously gripping the steering wheel.

“Speaking of different types of women that will be at the Club,” Angel transitioned conversationally, “I hope you’re not uncomfortable with nudity because there will be an abundance of it tonight.”

Holy shit! What kind of party was this? “Um, I’m not a prude, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Angel laughed again. “I’m not saying you are, but these parties can get a bit wild. You might see things being publicly done that you haven’t seen before.”

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