Page 101 of Deceit

“By the railing. Listen, can you—“

“No, he’s not.” Kyson furrows his brows, and I whip my neck around to find Bishop not in the spot I left him literally thirty seconds ago.

“What the fuck,” I mutter under my breath, scanning the area for him. Then it falls right on the group of men he mentioned was staring at me with Bishop now fraternizing like their old friends. “What is he doing?”

“Socializing,” Kyson answers behind me.

“We both know what that means. He’s going to make a scene.”

“Here? Too risky.” I glance back to find his best friend appearing unfazed at my comment.

“Are you insane too? He’s always doing stupid shit like this.”

He shrugs. “So he started a bar fight that ended up in ten hospitalizations and—“

“Ky,” I sneer. “These people will press charges.”

Kyson’s golden irises widen then form into slits. “You think?” His palm hits his chest. “Holy fuck, we better leave.”

“Shut up, this is serious.”

“Well, that was easy,” Bishop claims behind me, pressing a possessive hand above the curve of my ass. “Ky, gonna need you to punch me in about thirty seconds.”

My eyes practically bulge from my sockets. “What?”

“What did you do now?” Kyson groans. “Dude, this isn’t the trailer park. We’re not—“

“How close is he?”

His best friend quickly glances behind us. “About fifteen yards.”

“You’re up, Em,” Bishop whispers in my ear, his voice fucking delicious and deep. “Play a good damsel in distress. I’ll be back.” Before I can even fathom the words hell no to reach my mouth, he straightens his spine and moves to my side. “Now.”

Kyson wastes no time or asks any questions because he cocks his muscular arm back and slams his fist right into Bishop’s face.

My surprised gasp is mixed with everyone else’s as Bishop dramatically stumbles backward, and Kyson menacingly stalks after him.

My blood burns hot inside my veins at the fact that Bishop couldn’t just follow a simple ass plan that we laid out in this very room.

Spread out.

Find anything useful.

I shove a tranquilizer in his arm, throat, leg, where-the-fuck-ever.

Get William Wamkin.

Not this.

If the cops are called and charges pressed against the Ying and Yang twins, Ledger will lose his entire shit on the squad.

A pair of large hands steadies me as the growing crush of people gathers closer to Bishop and Kyson’s shitshow of a fight.

“This way, Miss,” a male soothes, guiding me back and away from the blood-thirsty savages who want to witness my two idiot co-workers duke it out.

I place a hand on my chest, starting up my role as damsel while I turn to face the man I think Bishop was describing before.

“Are you alright?” he asks me, faux worry laced in his tone.

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