Page 197 of Deceit

“Bishop,” I leer. “Stop. This isn’t what it looks like. Listen to me and—“

“I did listen,” he retorts, turning around to give me the full effect of his broad frame. “I listened to this motherfucker tell me that you bothfuckedand had twins. I also got the news that you named one after me. I also noticed that, with the timing of how long you have to be pregnant, that you were fucking me, Alexander, and Mills.” He begins for me but stops within two steps. “You should’ve told me your sexual appetite wasn’t satisfied, Emmy, I would’ve worked harder.”

“Mills is not the father of my fucking kids,” I snap. “He was covering for me.”

Bishop lifts a curious brow. “Was he? Do I look like I give a shit?”

“Are you hard of hearing? I just said he’s not the dad.”

My husband shakes his head, closing the rest of the gap between us. “That’s not what I wanted to hear, baby.”

“Then what? What do you want, Bish? I told you that he has nothing to do with the kids.”

He bows, making me step backward to allow myself the space I need to think clearly. A ripple of goosebumps claims my skin and I can’t hide the shutter that frays through my body. “I want to know if you fucked him or not.”

“No—“ I shake my head violently back and forth. “—of course not.”

Bishop holds my gaze for only a second longer before he pivots and marches back to Mills. I release my held inhale right before my husband swings on Mills again.

“Stop!” I exclaim through my best friend’s groan. “Bish, please—“

“Shut up, Ems,” Bishop warns with his back to me, reaching behind him to retrieve a knife out of his jean pocket.

I hear it snap open, the distinct sound I’ve made a hundred times myself.

Mills warned me and I didn’t listen.

He told me that this wasn’t a good idea and to keep B723 involved but I wanted my way and only my way to play out.

And now we’re here.

“Don’t hit him again, you—“ Bishop does it anyway and I rush him only to have a strong arm wrapped around my waist.

Thrusting my elbow back, I connect with a hard body and use all my weight to get them to drop me but the grip doesn’t loosen.

I’m promptly dropped on my feet and spun around to find Marty standing over me with a scowl deeper than any body of water.

His hazel eyes burrow into me, searching for answers that I can verbally give him, but he doesn’t want me to speak, just like Bishop.

No, it’ll only piss him off more. It’ll only cause my voice to literally make all this real.

I lied.

I faked my death.

I didn’t tell the people I loved that I needed help.

I was so blinded and scared of Alexander and what was going to happen with the twins that I reacted and didn’t listen to Mills—several times.

“You fucked up,” he reprimands out loud as if he’s confirming everything going through my head.

“I know.” I open my mouth to continue but it locks so that the sob that wants to break free from my throat can’t leave. I have no one to blame but myself here. And I just took Mills down with me. “Marty…”

He wags his head back and forth. “I mourned you. I lost my Ems.”

“I’m so—“ Mills’s heavy grunt interrupts my thought as I pivot around to find Bishop leaning over my best friend, and enough is enough. I move when Marty’s hand grasps my bicep and I snatch it away. “Don’t fucking touch me.” With Bishop’s back to me, I lightly tap on his shoulder. He turns, glowers at me again as if I’m ruining his fun. “If you wanna know everything, untie him or I won’t say shit.”

“Then he’s dead,” he quickly counters back.

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