Page 8 of False Start

“Already a good uncle. Look at you.”

“Yeah, well, jury’s still out on that.”

“The only jury is the one you’ve got locked in that head of yours. Being sequestered has an end date. You should give them a break,” she said, rapping her knuckles against the bar and turning toward the crew at the end of the bar calling her name. “Duty calls. Don’t leave without checking in with me. Got it?”

“You’re the boss.”

“See, now if everyone could just get that through their head as a given, life would be so much easier.” She tossed the words over her shoulder with a laugh and a twinkle in her eye that had me smiling back.

The flex of those facial muscles felt foreign, and I had to wonder how long it had actually been since I had something to grin about.

My skin tingled and the hair stood up on my neck. Turning to the likely source, I found Mayhem had moved to the booth, her hostile stare roaming over me.

I had to wonder if my assessment of her shit play put that pinched look on her face or if it was the result of the gossip fed to her by her teammates.

Whatever.

Turning back to my burger, I did as I was told and ate. I wasn’t stupid. Patti wouldn’t give me a lecture if I turned down her food. She wouldn’t cuff me. She’d hit me with another nightmare inducing anecdote, maybe not about cheese, but it seems likely geriatric colons might be involved.

The woman in question glanced over at me, her eyes narrowed.

Yeah, I’d do as I was told.

Pick your battles, Bishop…this one wasn’t worth it.

Frustration pulsed through me with renewed energy since I rolled into Galloway Bay. This town had been my salvation and eventually my home until karma found me and took a devastating swipe, turning every part of my haven into a festering reminder that I didn’t deserve the sanctuary it offered.

I carried the broken parts of me from a shitty life, into this idyllic place. Relieved to have broken free from my nightmare, I failed to notice the broken pieces in me planting seeds that later flared to life in the fertile earth here. Standing ready to shatter any illusions I might have of peace.

Peace didn’t exist. Turmoil…and ironically, mayhem, I had those in spades.

The last of my burger down, I wiped my mouth and tossed my napkin on my plate. What flicker of good mood I’d found soured to shit.

This frame of mind called for hard liquor, a willing woman, or better…both.

But nope, I get to go home and deal with my sister.

My pregnant, moody, perceptive sister.

Life really knew how to deliver a merciless double nipple twist.

Tossing a hundred-dollar bill on the bar, I slid off the stool, but stopped when I spotted Patti waving her hands at me, rushing over with a takeout bag.

“Take this to your sister for me. On the house. Pregnancy is the one time you can eat your feelings with no judgment.”

“Pregnancy or not, it’s no one’s business what goes into our mouths.”

“From your lips to God’s ears.”

“What is it?”

“Prosciutto and Brussels sprout panini with her favorite pepper jack. Five minutes in that air fryer of hers and it will be just like it came fresh from the pass.”

“Brussels sprouts? She doesn’t like the vile little bastards.”

“Well, she does now…apparently that baby loves him some Brussels sprouts too.”

“Must get it from his dad. Thanks.” I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a squeeze. The lingering scent of her familiar floral perfume eased something bound tight in my chest and I closed my eyes.

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