Page 26 of Bishop

I unclasp my belt, turn to Bishop, and poke him in the shoulder. “Wake up.”

He groans without batting one of those heavily closed lids.

“You’re on your own if you don’t get your ass moving.” I give him another poke and get the same response. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t try.”

I climb out, the headlights guiding the way toward the shelving units lining the wall. I grab a picnic blanket from the middle shelf, then return to the passenger side of the car, recline Bishop’s seat all the way back, and throw the thick material over his entire body. Face included.

If my parents return, I can only hope they stalk straight inside to ask me about the unfamiliar car. If they don’t, and decide to snoop instead… Well, Bishop’s a big boy. I’m sure he’ll bluff his way back through those gates.

I lean over him to place the key fob on the center console for good measure and grab my clutch. I’m sure he thought about the risks before he decided to get caught up in my business. And if he didn’t, that’s his problem, not mine.

I close the door behind me. The headlights turn off, plunging the garage into darkness. I walk inside, the beep, beep, beep of the alarm announcing I have a few seconds to enter the pin before sirens wail.

I hustle in the dark to the security panel and turn off the system. Both levels of the house had been alarmed.

I double check the panel to make sure the security for the doors and windows remain engaged, then flick on the light, illuminating the empty hall.

It’s eerie. Desolate.

The hair prickles on the back of my neck as I continue to the heart of the home, my heels tap, tap, tapping on the tiled floor.

I’ve never been here alone before and the dead lump in the passenger seat of the random SUV in my garage doesn’t count as company.

I enter the living room and flick another switch, then do the same in the kitchen and the dining room.

I walk through every inch of the sprawling house, turning on each light, hoping to find a placating clue to the reason behind this apocalyptic scene. But after a full search of both floors, I find nothing and no one.

I’m completely alone.

I call my father as I enter my bedroom, closing the door behind me to kick off my shoes, letting them scatter haphazardly on the floor.

…leave a message after the tone.

“Dad, please call me. It’s urgent.” I place a hand on my stomach, trying to appease the nausea rearing its ugly head again. “I have to explain some things… I, um…” My nose tingles with the awakening of emotions I can’t afford. “I need you to trust me. Okay?… Please.”

My eyes burn, the frailty I’ve kept hidden for so long threatening to make a resurgence.

Tears won’t fix anything. They won’t fade my scars or fill the gaping holes carved into my soul. All they do is make me weak, and I lost the luxury of softness long ago.

6

BISHOP

I startle awake, an adamant buzz vibrating against my thigh while something smothers my face. “What the—”

I yank at the suffocating material, preparing to fight my way out of whatever death trap I’ve landed in, and find myself in darkness.

I’m alone. Still in the rental car.

I snap upright, taking in the dimly lit garage, the only glimpse of illumination coming from the moonlight streaming in through a small window three luxury cars away, and the slight gleam seeping around the edges of the closed door to my right.

I pull out my cell, the device continuing to vibrate as the screen blinds me through the darkness. The name highlighted through that searing glow punches my gut with relief.

Langston.

I swipe to connect and shove the cell to my ear. “Where the hell have you been, motherfucker?” I hiss under my breath and snatch at my belt, reefing it off as I take in my surroundings. Shelves line the wall in front of me, holding a stack of leisure items. Golf clubs. Tennis rackets. Gardening supplies. This is a family home. And the thing smothering me was a goddamn picnic blanket.

“I’m still with Lorenzo. We ran into a complication.”

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