Page 72 of Into the Woods

All I really remembered was needing Court, and him never showing up except once to tell me I needed to leave him alone. I’d been young and ill, and I’d just lain in that hospital bed as my heart shattered.

Now, looking at it through adult eyes, I realized that the boy who’d come to visit me wasn’t the boy I’d known.

His eyes had been hard and flinty, somehow icy and fiery at the same time. He hadn’t smiled—in fact, his lips had been pressed into a line so harsh that the skin around them was white. And his cheeks had been hollow, while his normally carelessly windswept dark hair had been buzzed short.

Like he was enlisting in a thirteen-year-old’s version of boot camp.

“The General came to see us a couple of times a month, and it was hell,” Bishop confided, his voice low. “He was mean—he’d hit us when we were too loud or asked questions. He wanted little toy soldiers, silent and obedient as they waited for his next command. We hated when he came over, but we didn’t see him every goddamn day. Not like Court did.”

My heart sank like a boulder.

Growing up, Court had always had bruises, but I’d seen the way he played with his friends. They’d treated me like I was made of glass, but they’d tackled each other off the deck for fun.

“He hurt Court?” My voice wobbled.

“He hurt all of us,” Bishop amended, “but I think he hurt Court the most, yes.”

I wasn’t sure what to do with this information. It was easier to be mad at Court when I didn’t have to think about the hell he’d been through as a kid.

And I’d never known any of it. Court had kept that part of his life hidden from me.

He was always keeping secrets. Wasn’t he tired of it? Of all the hiding? I knew I was exhausted from always being kept in the dark.

I drew in a long breath. “It doesn’t excuse him for spending the entire fall lying to me. If anything it just proves that he has a pattern of dishonesty, especially when it comes to me.”

“You’re right,” he agreed without flinching, “but us Woods brothers aren’t exactly stellar at sharing our emotions or feelings. I mean, I trust my brothers with my life, but there’s a lot of shit I keep from them.”

I arched a brow. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Like what?” I asked, genuinely curious. Then I quickly backpedaled. “Forget I asked.”

“No, it’s cool,” he replied with a soft smile. He blew out a breath and looked up at the ceiling. “I haven’t told my brothers that I’m bisexual.”

My eyes rounded. “Why not?” As much as Court and his brothers were alpha men to the extreme, I couldn’t see any of them being bigoted and rejecting Bishop.

He chewed on his bottom lip. “Honestly, I realized it when I was in high school, but the idea of the General finding out was enough to make me keep it to myself. And as evolved as the United States Marine Corps claims to be, guys who come out as gay or bi are often treated differently. I guess I just got used to hiding who I am, and now it’s been so long that I don’t want it to make things weird.”

“Thank you for telling me.” I reached for his hand, humbled that he’d entrusted me with his truth.

He squeezed my fingers, but there was no spark. No chemistry. “Don’t give up on him, Bex. I know it’s asking a lot, but he’s been through shit none of us even know about, because he keeps it bottled up.”

I leveled a gaze at him. “I get that, but I can’t let myself keep hoping for something that will never happen.”

His lips quirked. “Did you see how pissed he was when he left?”

I nodded.

“Trust me,” he finished with a grin. “I think today was the kick in the ass Court needed to realize he’s out of chances with you.”

Hope flickered in my chest, a single tiny flame that threatened to turn into a bonfire if left unchecked. “I don’t know.”

“Please, Bex,” he whispered, those soulful eyes searching mine. “Don’t write him off yet.”

I exhaled, suddenly bone weary even though I hadn’t done anything all day except read and chill out. “Fine.”

He gave my fingers one last squeeze, then got off the bed. “Hungry?”

---