Page 23 of Deceit

My God, Bishop even trained him to be a bore.

Marty slams the door, not bothering to tell me to put my gun down, and plops back onto the couch, pretending to get into his show again. I end up grabbing my cold beverage and sitting next to him—we’re both the picture-perfect definition of miserable.

Him because he’s terrified.

Me because of him and my own tug ‘o war with Bishop.

Bish can’t stand me as it is, so going through his privacy would cause him to plan for me to have an “accident”.

However, he did this to me.

“Pizza should be here soon,” Marty mutters a few minutes later, finishing off his beer. I don’t reply, already done talking for the day. “Ems.” I feel Marty’s green eyes on me, and I purposely ignore them.

I’m not doing this.

I’m not going there.

Bishop fucking killed me the last time I believed he cared. I’m not going to be stupid again. I can’t be.

“Did you track him down yet?”

I shake my head, not surprised that he read my mind. I’m trying to be respectful of Bishop’s solitude, but—not going to lie—I almost have. I had the laptop in the car earlier and everything.

“Why not?”

“Marty…” I warn, mainly because I don’t want to talk about him. Not when things between Bishop and I have always been rocky.

“Just surprised is all,” he replies next to me. “I know you wouldn’t last this long with anyone else.”

Anyone else being him, Mills, and Kyson.

Blue can go fuck herself for all I care.

“It’s because I like you,” I quip. “If he wants to keep his crap to himself, then let him. I’m not going to waste my time and hunt him down.”

My words sound fraudulent even to my own ears. Once upon a time, I would’ve burnt the world down looking for Bishop. I’d be just how Marty is acting now.

A lunatic.

A love-crazed, besotted ball of hysteria.

But he fucked that up.

I fucked it up.

Our time came and went, he gave up, and I’ve been trying to get my life in order ever since.

Marty’s gaze weighs heavily on my body, and the need to squirm underneath it starts to prick at my body. He wants me to look up Bishop. Needs to know that he’s alright but wants me to be the crazy one to do it.

“He’s a big boy,” I continue, my mouth suddenly going dry. “With a bigger temper, he’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.” He returns his attention back to the screen of the TV.

Yeah, I say so.

Because if he’s not, I’ll never forgive myself.

“Yo, seriously?” I watch my brother stride purposely in my direction, a smile as big as the moon, just like he always had when we were kids. His unclouded blue eyes briskly scan the bedroom that Scarlett and I did up for Madelyn.

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