Page 251 of Deceit

Glass breaks, and something hard hits the wall. The ringing of peppered shots ring throughout the room when a body bumps mine on the same side of the unbearable pain.

“I got you, Lou Boo.”

Mills.

An arm wraps around my back, but he doesn’t make a move to help me up, so I try to do it myself, my vision blurred, but I can stand, I think.

“Not yet,” Mills voices as another ripping of shots go off.

Then silence.

“Now we can.” Helping me, my chin lifts to locate Bishop, but it doesn’t take much effort at all. He’s directly in front of me, peering down like I just smoked his last cigarette and looking hella pissed.

“I got it,” he tells my best friend. “Gag and move his fucking ass.”

Mills strays from my side, and I quickly look around to find Alexander on the floor along with the other three men.

Then Ky, Blue, and Marty.

I met Marty’s green eyes, and he salutes me with his two digits. “Hey, Ems.”

“Hey,” I reply when Bishop’s fingers wrap around my chin gingerly to bring me around to face him.

“You’re shot,” he deadpans.

“So are you.”

I expect him to say so much more, but this is Bishop. Not Marty, Ky, or Mills, even Blue and her big mouth.

No, this is the man who has suffered silently.

“Take your shirt off so I can—“ I begin to do as he asks when his grip tightens and moves my head and back and forth for me.

“Nothere.Bedroom.”

I roll my eyes because no one in this room really gives a shit about seeing me in a bra but I guide the way, sucking in air through my teeth from the discomfort of my wound.

Bishop follows so closely that I feel the abrasion of his clothes against my body, and when he slams the door behind us, I know I’m really in for it.

Pivoting, he’s right there again and in my space when his lips crash ferociously into mine. His hands grip my biceps, keeping me from moving, stumbling, or both. And when I’m about to forget a little about the searing pain in my side, he jerks from me.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he mutters, pressing his forehead against mine. “He’s a dead fucking man.”

“Did you—“

“No, you’re gonna kill him. We’re just gonna have fun with him.” Before I can ask any questions, he’s maneuvering me into my bathroom and getting me to sit on the toilet seat.

He goes through my medicine cabinet, but there isn’t much in there, just aspirin and deodorant. I didn’t plan on staying here forever.

“You don’t have shit,” he growls.

“Bish, I don’t really live here.”

He pulls out his cell and puts it to his ear. “Grab me some shit. She has nothing.” He’s silent for a moment before saying, “Whatever, dude.” Then hangs up.

Holding out a hand for me, I take it and slowly stand.

“Let me see.“ He begins to pull my shirt up as carefully as he can and haunches down to get a better look, but I swat his help away.

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