Page 100 of Bishop's Queen

“Babe—” His brow furrowed, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Babe.I left you. I enlisted and never looked back. Couldn’t.”

Dumbstruck by that paradigm shift, she sat there, letting that weigh on her. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t offer.”

“We were so far gone,” she whispered.

“It was bad.”

She nodded. “And you thought all this time that I… knew? Thatyouleftme?”

Bishop rolled his bottom lip into his mouth. “Makes me a pretty solid piece of shit, huh?”

“We were so young. And we just sat there, holding her hands, and shedied.” Ella remembered how Brie’s unresponsive hand had turned lifeless. How they’d each held one. Each begged her to be okay, told her that help was coming. She remembered the littlest things, like glass in her kneecaps and the wail of the sirens that were too late.

“Ella, take a breath.” Bishop hung onto her. “I’ve got you.”

She trembled as hard as her heart and burrowed into his chest. “I know you do.”

“Good, babe. Good.”

“You and me?” she murmured against his shirt. “It’s happening again. Except this time, we’re adults, and I just said things I’ve never been able to say out loud.”

He kissed the top of her head.

“I’m falling for you all over again.”

His heavy arms tightened, enveloping her in a safe cocoon. “When you stop falling and simply understand, let me know.” His chin rested on top of her head. “Until then, don’t rush it. You have a lot going on.”

She would’ve melted away if he hadn’t held her tight. This was more than just seeing someone…

Today. That moment. This was the start of them. They had been in love before; they could do it again—

The doorbell rang, and his hold that had been as easy as an angel’s caress transformed into steel. “Expecting anyone, babe?”

This late at night after she’d just come home? No heads-up from her doorman? All of her shook. “No.”

“That motherfucker.”

Fear woke every nerve as Bishop deposited her on the couch and unholstered his gun. “Go into your bedroom. I’ll be back in one minute.”

She scurried up at the sound of what had to be his gun clicking into action and his boots heading for the door.

***

It was morning? And whose voice was that? Jay rubbed sleep from his eyes, feeling an awful crick in his neck.

“Sir?”

He blinked, more awake but still disoriented. The rising sun shone brightly. Wildly, he searched for the moon and night’s sky. It was gone, replaced by the brilliant purples and yellows of dawn falling into morning.

“Hey!”

Jay turned, putting the pieces together. He was on the ground, pushed up against a car, with his legs half in the grass.

“Get off my car or I’m going to call the cops.”

A tire had been his pillow. Not his worst sleeping conditions. “What time is it?”

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