16
Libby
Come to Jesus
Iwalk out of the club with Sophia and Jay on my sides as security detail, but as soon as I catch sight of Theo’s car in the street, I meet Soph’s eyes and shake my head. Her lips firm, but I pull away anyway and head to my car, which is parked behind Theo.
I didn’t know when I arrived that I was parking behind Theo, but that’s the car he’s sitting in, so I shake my head and continue walking as though my head isn’t aching like Scanlon’s hand was surely a sledgehammer.
Theo thinks for a moment I’m coming to him, but I veer away and slide into my car and swallow when his lips thin in my mirror.
Jesus. Jesus. Jesus.
This is why I stick to my own company. This is why I prefer to be alone, rather than adding complications to my life. Because all it took was one hour of truths, just like the first time we met. One single hour where the world felt empty but for the two of us.
Last time, we sealed it with a spit shake.
This time… so much more.
“Goddammit.” I switch on the ignition and pull out without giving him any indication of where I’m going or if he’s welcome to come along. Sophia and Jay remain on the sidewalk near the club entrance. It’s cold out, and Soph is barely more than naked, so she stands in Jay’s embrace and lets him keep her warm, but no one could confuse them for a couple in the dark, sneaking a makeout session. They’re soldiers, and they’re watching us closely.
As I pass Theo’s car, he pulls out into the traffic as smoothly as if the world was waiting for his move.
And of course, Sophia and Jay see it all.
I feel like I know why he’s here. I feel like I know why he insists on using his new name and not his old. And I know exactly why Sophia feels things when she looks at him; his eyes may not be the same color as Kane and Jay’s, but they’re the same shape. His jaw is the same. His lips are the same. His shoulders are the same. His face is longer than theirs, and his hair a shade lighter. But if you take color away, cast all three into a monotone world, there isn’t a whole lot of difference.
She feels him, because he’s brother to the man she lives her life for. She would threaten a police officer with information she gathered illegally, all to keep that man safe. She lovesthatdeeply, so of course her heart pounds when she looks at Theo.
The same way my heart has always pounded when Kane walked through my station. The same way my heart broke when word got out that Jay had been executed. For most of a year, I mourned the death of a man I had never formally met, and when he returned and surprised us all, I called in a 10-7, drove home, locked myself in my room, and cried for the return of a Bishop.
No one can know how much I wished that a different Bishop had returned. No one could know I sat on the side of my bed and wept for a man the world knew as a junkie criminal.
Drawing in a deep breath, I swipe a hand beneath my nose as though it runs, but hiss when I smack my aching face. “Shit.” My eyes water from the pain, from emotion.
Today, my life swiveled on its axis, just as surely as it did in a club when I was a child.
Today, the third and final Bishop rose from the ashes, declared alive once again.
I pull into the parking space out front of my apartment building, and though I’m tempted to run inside and hide away with the cookies I felt were so fucking important only a couple hours ago, I don’t bother. Gunner Bishop would only chase me down and toss me into his car. I know he would, so I don’t waste my time or risk making a scene.
I simply slide out of my car, lock the doors, then I walk to his as he idles across the street. I stop by the driver’s side and wait a single second before he winds the window down.
His eyes scour my face as though our hour apart has dulled his memory. Or maybe my bruises are getting darker as time goes on. “Get in, Libby. Don’t make me chase you down.”
I pull in a long breath and let it out on a sigh. “Shit.” Shaking my head, I walk around to the passenger side and slide in so my denim rubs against luxurious leather.
“Good choice.”
He pulls out again and takes us across town to where I know he’s staying.
* * *
“Here you go.”
Sitting on the end of a plump bed in what may be the fanciest hotel room I’ve ever seen, I glance up into bright blue Bishop eyes and fight the tears that want to spill over. If I cried for Jay, then there’s no knowing when the dam will break for the Bishop I truly wanted. Two decades of grief, two decades of hoping and wishing sit on the precipice of whenever my mind finds it fit to snap. But that moment isn’t right now, as I accept a glass of water and take two ibuprofens when he snaps them from the foil packet and drops them into my palm.
“How’s your head?”