Page 72 of Deceit

“As a fucking heart attack.” I feel Bishop’s eyes on both of us, suddenly catching on to our private conversation, which is something he’s either going to ignore or press about later. “Better hurry up.”

Kyson shakes his head slightly, obviously hiding a secret. I mean, c’mon, if it wasn’t, he’d just say it.

“Ex-girlfriend, fucked him up pretty bad when we were kids. Addicted to cocaine. A waste of space. He left her behind with me when we joined the military. We did some fucked up shit to protect her. End of story, Ems.”

Jealously rips through my frame, but my heart also slows from the story.

“Did he love her?”

“Emmy…” Kyson’s voice is a warning and a clue.

It’s also a confirmation—yes.

And possibly the reason why he could never get close or love me.

If Bishop was capable of it once before, something or someone broke it. I might be staring at that someone right now.

A heated wave of rage suddenly pierces through me as I flick my attention to Camilla, who’s already looking back at me.

Yeah, I see you, bitch.

A slow and purposeful lift of my lips causes hers to frown.

I am the definition of a spoiled little brat to some and downright vicious to others. If she broke Bishop, then she deserves to be mangled herself.

An arm, a leg, maybe her nose.

She’s pretty, but I can tell by the way she lifts her already turned-up nose at me that she’s a little cunt who doesn’t know me but still wants to judge me.

But, oh, am I going to get to know her.

“Stop staring at the girl like you’re about to make her choke on your burger, Lou Boo,” Mills whispers at my side. “You’re making me uncomfortable.”

A mirthless chuckle rumbles from my chest as Camilla watches my best friend and I share a private moment.

She probably perceives me as a slut who possibly fucked all the guys at this table with me.

Nah, girl. Just the one across from you.

A door creaks somewhere in Bishop’s home, followed by a small stampede of feet stomping towards the small dining area.

“Uncle Kacie!” A bundle of dark curls, plump cheeks, and the speed of a little Tasmanian devil runs straight for Bishop. “Daddy got me a gun!”

Bishop immediately drops his burger on his paper plate and twists to lift her into his lap.

Holy…is he holding a child in his lap?

With a cute little purple shirt and jeans, the little girl leans back into his chest, comfortable and elated as she shows off the nerf gun in her tiny hands.

Her blue eyes search the table, landing on my squad curiously before they stop at me. She blinks, her long eyelashes brushing against rosy cheeks when she opens her mouth.

“Who are you?”

“Yes,” repeats a masculine voice right after her. “Who are you?” I didn’t realize that someone else had walked into the room as I locate a leaner version of Bishop now standing behind his chair.

He smiles at me, exposing his teeth and everything, which makes him boyishly handsome. His facial hair is dark stubble, perfectly shaping his strong jaw and brings out kind crystal blues.

His forearms lean against the back of Bishop’s chair as he patiently waits for someone to tell him who the hell I am, just as I’m pending confirmation on the lookalike staring back at me.

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