Page 20 of Love Me, I Dare You

I knew the rebellious side of them. The way they’d sneak out of their bedroom windows every Friday night and crash the parties my brothers and I threw. Then innocently sit in the church pews Sunday morning in their pretty sundresses, like they hadn’t been drinking the night away two days prior.

However, Billie was the rebel of the two and I’m pretty sure she’s the one who convinced Bailey to get into trouble more times than not. Aside from that, I’d heard they’d become friends with my little sister Monroe shortly after I skipped town. Billie and Monroe had always been friendly, and not that Bailey wasn't—just given our family history and the fact her family hated mine, left no opportunity for a friendship to brew between them. Not when Jase and I had such a difficult time keeping ours.

Besides, Monroe had a wild spirit unlike any I’ve ever seen. She was always unique as a little girl. Just as tough on the inside as she was on the outside, but that was the Bishop way. Growingup with four older brothers, there was no other way to be. She didn’t have a positive female role model to look up to, and after my mom walked out on us, she had no one. Being eight years older than her, Monty was the one who took on the role of guardian and gave her the father she had never had.

So, it’s no surprise that if Monroe hung around Billie and Bailey, her wild personality rubbed off on them. That much is obvious as I stare at the bright auburn and pink hair on the woman’s head covering the natural blonde. I take a moment to glance over the petite little thing and notice Billie’s full sleeve of tattoos, complete with a rose vine with thorns snaking up her right thigh that stands out under her short denim skirt, and looks oddly familiar to the one Bailey has wrapped around her shoulder.

“Nashiel Bishop,” she answers, her voice smooth as whiskey, but with a sharp bite, using the name she and Bailey gave me when they found out Nash wasn’t short for anything. Unlike my brothers, I was designated the four letter nickname at birth, and Nash is what’s written on my birth certificate.

Looking over at Jase, who looks awfully amused at Billie’s threatening stance, I can’t help but grin at the current scowl she wears, one she thinks makes her look dangerous only it’s sort of adorable given her size. I notice the similarity to the way Bailey looks at me. Like I have no business being back here. They’re both right, and as her eyes try their best to burn a hole through me, eliciting just a slight sizzle where they land, I know without a doubt Billie’s aware of exactly what happened between Bailey and me the night I skipped town.

Though, what they both don’t know is the King men gave me no other choice.

Chapter Eight

Nash

The way Billie Cole’s gazing at me like she’s contemplating the many ways to murder me and get away with it will haunt me for the rest of my life. The woman is five feet tall, has pink fucking hair for god sakes, and is dressed head to toe in denim—yet I’m now realizing she’s quite scarier than some of the more ruthless bikers I’ve come across over the years.

Maybe that’s because one of her super powers has always been to see right through bullshit. Growing up, the woman was known as the Gossip Queen of Crossroads. I suppose little has changed since she doesn’t look very surprised to see me. Which can only mean she knew I was back.

“I guess for once the rumors in town are true. The devil’s back in Crossroads, and I hear he came riding in like an outlaw on a motorcycle.” She eyes my leather jacket with curiosity but holds in whatever thought crosses her mind. Again, not something Billie Cole typically does.

I’ve opted for wearing the cut of the Disciples today, figuring I’m safer in town if I do. Not that the folk here think anything other than what Billie’s just said, so no point in hiding what I’vebeen up to all this time. Though unlike Bailey, who’s suddenly all lace, leather and pure fucking sex on heels, Billie remains as southern as they come.

HerSweet As Tennessee Whiskeycropped tee under the denim vest gives a slight grunge-edge to her short skirt and pink cowboy boots, but the woman screams potential country music star. Especially because I know she’s got the voice for it.

I give her a sly wink, but she remains unaffected. It’s uncommon, sure, but refreshing. “Who are you kidding Bills, the rumors in this town were always true. Especially if you were the one spreading them.”

She shrugs her shoulders in agreement, amusement confusing her about whether she should be mad at me. “Except the one Jolene Marshall spread about Dean Elliot being a hunk of a man with the equipment to prove it. I tested that bad boy out myself and have to admit it’s less than impressive.”

Billie’s always been a breath of fresh air when she’s not suffocating you with incessant chatting and gossip. I’ll admit I quite missed her and the spunky attitude she hasn’t been able to shake off. “Yeah, I’ll have to take your word for it on that one.”

Jase’s face contorts into an equally disgusted expression as he stares at his sister’s best friend. “Billie, when are you going to learn that some information is best kept in your pretty little head?” he says, tapping her head as he speaks.

“Well, Jasey Casey,” she mocks, using the nickname she gave him long ago. One he, apparently to this day, still hates. “I’ll take that as a compliment because I heard the word pretty, and not an insult to my adoration for communication.” Scooting in beside me, she taps the counter with her long, sleek fingers and bright, hot pink nails. “Jameson King, the service here is deplorable. I’ve been in this bar all of five minutes and have yet to be offered a drink.”

“Pick your poison, Billie Cole. It’s on me,” I say, giving her another wink to test my luck. It was the wrong move as her eyebrows furrow in this time while she watches me quizzically, leaning closer. Jase busies himself with making her drink, oblivious to the way her mood has shifted. I’m sure she’s ordered the same one a hundred times since he doesn't bother asking what it’ll be.

“First of all,” she coos, giving me her best flirtatious smile. “I never pay for a drink at Stingers, perks of being besties with the boss. Second, don’t for a second think you've got me fooled like you have this poor idiot.” She leans in closer, her lips a mere inch from my ear and her voice so low, only I can hear it. “What’d you tell the poor fool to convince him not to put a bullet through your head for stepping foot back in his town?”

Billie is definitely more astute than any other resident of Crossroads. She’s beauty and brains, and I really like her, but I need to know how much she knows. It’ll give me insight into what rumors spread about Bailey and me when I left. If Billie Cole knows it, you can be damn sure the whole goddamn town does, too.

Leaning forward to close the distance between us, I meet her head on, not one bit intimidated by her tactics. “Why don’t you tell me this, Cole? Why on earth would my best friend ever put a bullet through any part of me?”

Billie scoffs, rolling her eyes as flicks her hair over her shoulder. “Don’t act coy Bishop, it doesn't suit you. But I’ll play along.” She winks at Jase, who’s suddenly become suspicious of our hushed conversation. “Maybe because you fucked his little sister, in more ways than one I might add, when you left her broken-hearted as you rode off out of town on that pretty little bike you have parked out there.”

Her words hit me somewhere I hadn’t felt a goddamn thing in a while. If Billie knows what happened between Bailey andme, then it affected her more than I’d first assumed. It’s no wonder the woman’s still holding a grudge against me after all this time. Not that I’d ever stopped thinking of her either or wishing I’d done things differently. But there was no point in wallowing in the what ifs.

I fucked Bailey King, took her virginity, and left her with no explanation. I didn’t dare fight for what there was between us, unwilling to admit there was anything at all. We were friends before anything and I took her friendship for granted when I should have felt honored to mean something to her. Honored, she’d chosen me and trusted me to claim the most special part of her.

I used the crush she had on me as a game, teasing her to no end just to garner a reaction and see her smile, not realizing there were any true feelings attached to it. Billie said I broke Bailey’s heart, insinuating her feelings for me were more than lust and the burning attraction between us. It was a chemical reaction that felt too powerful to ignore, yet it terrified me to my core.

At eighteen years old, she must have fooled herself into believing what happened between us could have meant anything more than what it had been, which explains her hatred of me now. There's no way she’ll ever forgive me. But as I sit here in her bar, watching her smile at other men the way she once had at me, I know in my mind there’s nothing more I want to do than earn her forgiveness. Even if it’s the last thing I do here in Crossroads.

The night passes in a flurry of country music, good whiskey, and death glares from the woman in charge until there’s nomore than a handful of patrons hanging around waiting to be kicked out. Surprisingly, the night’s been drama free compared to other bars I’ve frequented, which have had multiple brawls pop up in one night. It only proves how well the town still respects Jase and Bailey, and finds comfort in the little oasis they’ve created for the community.

“Where are you headed to now?” Billie asks, with one too many margaritas under her belt. Though she’s kept me company this entire time, mingling with Lexie behind the bar.

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