Page 45 of Deceit

However, those pondering thoughts don’t last long. I remember how it felt to believe her embarrassed by me and how I can’t just blurt my emotional state out every two seconds whenever she wants me to.

The woman has known me for over six years, I’m not an easy egg to crack, and I sure as hell wasn’t all rainbows and gumdrops. But if she would’ve let me, would’ve considered that we’d work as we are, I would’ve been more trusting that she wouldn’t break my heart.

“Damn, Bishop, if this is what it’s like being your wife, I can’t imagine why women aren’t lining up to take my place.”

I grunt because no one else willeverbe my wife. I’ve never wanted to own and be owned by anyone else in my life but Emmy Lou Rhodes.

And that shit hasn’t changed in years.

I don’t think it will anytime soon either. I just want to rest in pieces and be left alone.

“I’ll try to do better,” I quip mockingly. “You’ll have a room full of pink flowers and your favorite—“

“Fuck you.” She rips her laptop out of my grasp and hops into her car.

I don’t bother waiting for her to start it, but she makes sure to express how pissed off she is because she peels out of the trailer park.

I was kinda serious about the pink flowers.

It’s Emmy’s favorite color, and the look on her face when she received them is—the only way I can describe it is grateful and turned on. I’ve got my dick sucked as she rode my face once when I got her an assortment of every shade of pink.

I didn’t expect it, but I wasn’t going to turn it down either.

Our relationship might not be conventional in the least, but Emmy is mine by law and vice versa. I just have to get my mind and dick to agree that letting her go was for the best.

Back inside, I find Blue on her knees about to wrap her lips around Chuck’s small cock—Christ, I didn’t want to see it—and I stand in front of her, careful not to touch body parts that I particularly don’t wish to.

She pushes that bar too fucking far. In no world would I want her to suck off some piece of shit just to get information for me.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Chuck censures behind me.

“Pull your fucking pants up, peckerhead. You and I are going to go meet my dog.”

Ten minutes.

They have all but ten minutes before I bust into that daycare and pop a cap in everyone’s ass for making me sit here.

The other kid’s name that Bishop was looking for is Mad Dog, and with hours of skimming security footage from traffic lights and local businesses, I used a face recognition program to pin us here.

Mad Dog went to school with the little Chuck prick, and it made sense. So, we’re at Sunny Side Up Daycare, where the plans and specs allude to a basement which Chuck said—after God knows what Bishop did to him—that this is his place of business.

An establishment where children play during the day and cocaine is distributed at night.

Cute.

After gathering all the information with my baller-ass tech skill, Bishop told me that we were coming here to check it out.

I thought he meant we would breach the operationtogetheras a team.

Not me getting babysat by Blue of all people in the front seat of Kyson’s blacked-out SUV.

I’m going to kill him.

“Take a hit and chill,” Blue asserts calmly, holding out her lit blunt between her dark blue nails. “You’re fucking with my high.”

“You being this close to me is fucking with my composure to not hit you.”

“Maybe that’s why you’re always worrying so much about everyone. You overthink everything, Em.”

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