Ruthless Bishop: Dark New Adult High School Bully Romance (Sinners and Saints Book 3)

by Veronica Eden

It’s always me. True, I’m not an angel, but how are my actions always under a magnifying glass when I have two parents cheating on each other?

  Maybe what I need to do is fake a private investigator profile and slip a tip to reporters on the local elections circuit. I’ve always thought about doing it, but not until Mom runs for something bigger, like Senate. I’ll do it up with the works, a real pro job that’ll fool anyone. The problem is, I don’t want to be the one to take the seedy photos of my double home-wrecking parents. It’s the same dilemma that trips me up every time I think out this plan.

  Dad puts the car in gear and grimaces. “There’re photos. Illegal fighting, Connor, really? You know how important appearances are to your mother. I don’t have to remind you. A bad story like that could linger and be a roadblock in her political career.”

  Grinding my teeth, I draw in a slow breath. It was up to Landry and his boys to make sure no photos or video got out. Idiots.

  “Yeah, Dad. It’s only shoved down my throat every day.” I jerk my head in annoyance. Great. I made progress with Thea, but today’s session will probably suck worse than usual with my mood blackening like an oncoming storm. “Message received.”

  He sighs. “It’s an important election year, son. You can’t have any missteps.”

  How he can be so weak and pliant to Mom’s scheming political shit is baffling. Maybe he got used to the silver spoon life and is too afraid to challenge her. After all, she’s the reason he’s the principal of an elite private school, and he enjoys the money we get from granddad on top of their cushy incomes.

  The urge to punch the nearest thing strangles me. “So she gets to have everything she wants, and the rest of us better fall in line?” I smack the dash in frustration. “Why the hell are we putting up with this? It’s stupid.”

  Dad grants me a sober look. “It’s your mother. We have a good life because of her work. You’ll go off to college next year thanks to your grandfather’s money, so just do as she says until then.”

  “What the fuck ever.”

  How great is our life, really? It doesn’t seem so peachy. Our family is fractured, all three of us just existing in the same house.

  “She wanted me to ask if—” Dad cuts off and frowns. “Did you mother talk to you about finding a date for this weekend and, er…”

  What he doesn’t say is do I have a pretty puppet to play house with for the rest of the campaigning season.

  “I have it covered.” I should’ve never dragged Thea into my mess. Goddamn it. My jaw clenches so hard a muscle jumps in my cheek. “My girlfriend will be there.”

  I never told Mom I found someone and that I had no intention of picking from her folder. I guess part of me is trying to protect Thea from her, not prepared to subject her to the force of nature that spawned me. I’m a twisted fucker, but I learned from the best, I suppose. Apples and their goddamn trees.

  When this started I was ready to throw Thea to the sharks, the same as I would anyone else. It didn’t matter before, but now? I’m not so sure.

  At first it was routine blackmail, playing with a pawn. Except I’ve had a real taste of my little mouse.

  I’m going to earn her trust so that I can keep her after we get through this charade together. She can be an ally instead of a pawn.

  Thea waits by the coyote statue in front of the school sign after the last bell.

  Therapy wasn’t as bad as I thought. Doctor Levitt was pleased when I explained how I worked through an episode and talked it out in the morning with Thea. She was on my mind all through the stilted lunch with my parents, helping me tune them out.

  When Thea sees me, she smiles shyly, giving me a tiny wave. As I reach her, I put my arm around her shoulder.

  “Is this okay?” I ask, steering her across the terrace.

  Thea is hesitant, glancing around. People look, because I’m around and that’s what they do. She doesn’t seem used to being in the spotlight. “Yes. It’s good to practice being comfortable with touching for our big debut. What sort of dress do I need to wear?”

  Practice. Right. “Uh, I don’t know. It’s black-tie, so a fancy one.”

  “Fancy. Got it.” She shoots me a shy smile. “Do you clean up nice in a tux?”

  The corner of my mouth lifts. “You bet your ass I do. You ain’t prepared, girl.”

  “Will there be dancing?”

  “No, it’s like.” I gesture with the hand around her shoulder, then play with her hair. “A dinner thing. There’s a cocktail hour and a banquet. The people going buy their plate and the funds are split between the campaign and the charity. It’s boring as fuck. I snuck out for two hours last year.”

  Thea laughs. My smile grows. A few people watch us curiously as we cross the pavement on our way to the steps down to the student lot. As we pass, I give a few fist bumps to people that I recognize. Thea goes quiet and bows her head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s just weird being so close to your popularity.” She shoots me a wry look. “How do you get down a hallway to make it to class on time?”

  She’s joking with me. It makes me want to get in the car and just drive with her, go somewhere we can be alone.

  Before we reach the steps, Coleman walks by. Thea stops.

  “Have a wonderful evening, Thea.”

  “Thanks, Mr. C,” she says, abandoning self-consciousness.

  I grind my teeth, not liking the way he looks at her. “Come on, babe.”

  Thea turns her attention to me. Keeping half an eye on Coleman, I lean down and kiss the corner of her mouth, squeezing her close with my arm resting over her shoulders. She muffles a surprised sound, putting her hands on my stomach.

  Possessive? Yes. Don’t fucking care.

  Coleman clears his throat. I pull back, smirking at the pretty shade of pink in Thea’s cheeks.

  “Gotta split, Mr. C.” I mimic Thea’s moniker for him in a sarcastic drawl. “My girl and I have a big date this weekend to plan out.”

  Coleman’s look is unreadable, but I know I’ve won this round. He doesn’t have a leg to stand on. I’ll cut him off at the knees. Thea might be eighteen, but he’s a teacher, so he needs to step about eighty steps back from her before I fucking snap.

  “Thea,” Coleman rumbles before leaving us be.

  She narrows her eyes. Her defiant expressions are too adorable to resist. “Was that necessary?”

  “Yes. Where were we?” I nudge her and we descend the steps to the lot full of top of the line rides. “How great I look in a bowtie, I think?”

  Thea snorts. “So full of yourself.”

  “I’d rather be full on you, sunshine.” I lick my lips and toss her a wink. She makes a delicious, scandalized little sound. “Say the word and I’m going to devour you.”

  “Connor.” Her cheeks turn from pink to rosy. It’s too easy to rile her up.

  I unlock the car with the fob and open her door for her. She hops up and I climb in on the driver’s side.

  “What’s the event for?” Thea asks, clicking her seatbelt.

  “Children’s hospital. A fundraiser benefit, sponsored by Mom’s campaign. She gives a speech, blah blah blah.” The engine rumbles to life and I pull out of the lot. “Really boring stuff. I hate that I have to go at all.”

  “So why do you have to?” She chews on her lip and tilts her head.

  “Her platform and approval ratings center on her being a family woman. A leader, a mother, a wife.” I scoff, knowing how much of it is manufactured to keep her numbers high over the guy running against her. “Pretty much everything comes down to politics. Trust me, I’ve tried to get out of these things. She’s…difficult. Persistent.”

  Thea hums. “I know what that’s like. Mine is always breathing down my neck.”

  My grip on the wheel tightens. I want to tell her I know all about how her mother is, but we’ve just got to a good place and I already gave up one piece of myself today.

  “So if it’s all about
family stuff, why is it important for you to show up with a girlfriend?” She fiddles with the radio and stops on a song she must like, because she bobs her head to the upbeat music. “Is that why it’s a fundraiser for the children’s hospital?”

  Thea is being nosy again, but it doesn’t stir the same ire. In fact, I like her curiosity. She’s asking good questions, strategic ones I would pose myself.

  “Yeah. Real flimsy, if you ask me.” I cock my head as I turn onto our street. “She doesn’t have other children, so if I show up with you, it sends a subliminal message of her being a grandmother someday. Nurturing a legacy.”

  “Oh, so now we are having those two point five fake kids?” Thea taps my arm with a light swat. I park in my driveway. She certainly took that better than I expected. “You should’ve told me, dear. That will affect my outfit.”

  I sit back in my seat, angled toward her, totally aware of the crooked, dopey smile on my face. I don’t do a damn thing to wipe it off. She keeps surprising me.

  Thea winks—or, she tries to, it’s sort of a pained blink with both eyes that does things to my heart that shouldn’t be scientifically possible—and hops out of the car. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Bye, sunshine.” I sit in the car, watching her all the way to her house.

  The girl next door has me under her spell.

  Seventeen

  Thea

  Raised voices catch my attention late Friday afternoon as Constantine follows me out of the house. I stopped at the store to restock the baking ingredients that were getting low. Mom is out for the weekend on a spa retreat, and Dad is on a trip to Salt Lake City for a conference. It’s just Constantine and I, which means the kitchen is all mine, so I’ve got all my bakes lined up until I need to play girlfriend for Connor tomorrow night. It worked out perfectly that my parents are out of town, so I don’t have to explain the dress hanging up in my room or where I’m going.

  “You need to keep him away from me.” Connor sounds pissed as he stalks across his lawn to his Lexus GX. “I’m not playing. I don’t want anything to do with him. Not eat his food, not talk about his day, not play happy family when we’re dysfunctional as fuck! This is bullshit!”

  Mrs. Bishop stands with her arms crossed, and the younger man I recognize as their family friend who comes to their house several times a week is beside her.

  “Come back inside, where we can discuss this.” Mrs. Bishop’s tone is sharp enough to cut and her platinum, sleek bob sways. There’s something about the set of her features that’s disconcerting, like they’re too perfect. “You’re making a scene.”

  Constantine lets out a low boof and plants himself between me and our neighbors, standing sentry while I grab groceries from the trunk of my Mini Cooper. I shake my head with a wry smile. He’s a seventy pound overprotective lap dog. He’s not fooling anyone.

  I grab the last bag from the car and catch Connor’s eye. The turmoil in his gray gaze shocks me. He looks away, jaw working.

  Is he embarrassed? I didn’t think he cared what the world thought of him.

  His mom gives me a shrewd once over, hyper aware of my presence. When she speaks again, she regulates her tone, sounding kinder. “Why don’t you come inside, sweetheart? Dinner is almost ready.”

  I’m gripping the bag of flour and sugar, debating with myself. Don’t get involved. But I can’t ignore it, can I? It might not be my place to intervene, but damn it, the look on Connor’s face like he’s the only one in his corner hooks my insides and tugs hard. I won’t stand by while he’s hurting.

  Not when I know how hard it can be to deal with parents.

  Setting the bag of ingredients on the hood of my car, I cross the driveway to stand at his side. Constantine follows, laying down in the grass in front of my feet.

  “Hi.” I take Connor’s hand and kiss his cheek, rising on tiptoe to reach. Turning to Mrs. Bishop, I wave. “I’m Thea. Connor’s girlfriend. I live next door and go to school with Connor.”

  He’s stunned silent, watching me from the corner of his eye. I’m standing so close, I feel it when his chest caves with the force of the relieved breath hissing out of him.

  Okay, maybe that was rash. Oh my god, why did I kiss him in front of his mom before introducing myself? I clutch his hand tighter.

  Mrs. Bishop’s eyes narrow slightly, taking me in with a once over. I can’t help but feel she’s sizing me up and finding what she sees lacking.

  Connor drops my hand, but before I can run to hide for being silly and intervening, his arm wraps around me, almost clinging to me. He’s strong and warm, engulfing me in his rich earthy scent.

  “Well,” Mrs. Bishop says. Her eyes dart around the empty street. “We’re having a family discussion before dinner.”

  “Mom,” Connor snaps. He rubs my shoulder, hugging me close. His voice is hard, but his touch is gentle. “Thea is my girlfriend. She’s my date for tomorrow night.”

  Mrs. Bishop’s lips purse and she exchanges a look with their family friend. I’ve heard his name before—something with a D? She turns her attention to Connor, crossing the lawn to inspect me closely. She stops a short distance away, glancing at Constantine as he pops his head up. The vibe between her and Connor is charged.

  Instead of cowering into his side, I put my arm around his waist so we’re a united front, lifting my chin as she sniffs. That’s a bitchy non-response if I’ve ever seen one, worse than my mom’s false-sympathetic hums.

  “You said I needed to bring my girlfriend,” Connor says smugly. “Remember? Over that nice meal you were preparing with Damien.”

  The way he says Damien is almost a growl.

  “I didn’t realize the neighbor girl is who you were planning to bring.” Mrs. Bishop folds her hands in front of her. “I thought you were seeing Nina Goldman. Or was it Anette Rossi?”

  Popular girls far more perfect for me, ones that hang out with Connor’s crowd and come from money, status, and power in Ridgeview. Not me, a nobody.

  The effect of her dismissal is…wow. Is this what it’s like to appear polite while silently screaming fuck you?

  Message received.

  Message shredded.

  Putting on my sweetest smile, I lean into Connor’s side. “We’ve only been dating since school started, but we have a really special connection.”

  Her eyes flash. I can see where Connor gets his haunting gray eyes. His are impossible to look away from. Hers are just disconcerting. It doesn’t impress her, I guess, since I’m talking back.

  I see you, Mrs. Bishop. I know what kind of woman you are.

  Hopefully Connor doesn’t mind I used the timeframe from when I first texted him. Mistakenly, but whatever. It’s the truth.

  “The heart wants what the heart wants. Doesn’t it?” Connor snorts, caressing my arm. I don’t shy away, melting into his touch. “I’m sure you and Damien agree.”

  If I thought she was intense and intimidating before, it’s nothing compared to the deadly look that crosses her face now. Nothing changes about her plastered on smile, but the edges twist and shake, hinting at what lurks beneath.

  Constantine remains on alert, watching Mrs. Bishop with an unwavering focus. I nudge him with my foot and he rumbles, laying his head on his feet. His ears are still perked, only pretending to be at rest. If I needed him, he’d protect me in a second.

  “I’m looking forward to the benefit,” I say. Connor kisses the top of my head. I thought the PDA might freak me out since we’ve been at odds until recently, but it feels right. “What a great cause your campaign is supporting.”

  “Is that right? I hope Connor informed you there’s a dress code.”

  “He did. I have a gown.” I smile wider. “It’s all ready.”

  “Wonderful.” She watches us for a beat, then turns to go back inside without saying anything.

  Damien follows behind her. Once they’re both gone, Connor winds both arms around me, burying his face in my hair. I slide my hands up his back, holding him. We s
tay like that for a minute, just hugging.

  He peels back far enough to tip my chin up. “Thank you.”

  I’m about to lean up for a kiss when he squeezes my waist and lets me go.

  Connor backs up a few steps, keeping me locked in his gaze, then he gets in his car and pulls out. I’m left alone in the middle of the lawn with Constantine.

  “Come on, Con,” I call, going to grab the grocery bag from the hood of my car.

  He trots after me, panting happily as we go inside.

  Later that night, I’m wrestling with myself, chewing my lips raw. A restlessness has settled and even baking for hours into the night didn’t help me calm down.

  The thing I need I don’t want to do by myself.

  “This is a bad idea,” I mumble, staring down my phone as I pace my room. “Bad, bad idea.”

  My favorite kind, Connor’s voice echoes in my head.

  Blowing out a breath, I pick up my phone and do what I’ve been arguing with myself about all night—I text him. The contact no longer says Wyatt with wave emojis. Now it’s updated with Connor’s name bracketed by black heart and crown emojis.

  The black-hearted king of secrets.

  My secrets.

  Thea: Hi. Are you up?

  The response is immediate, sending my stomach into a wobbly flip of nerves. He doesn’t bother with words, just sends a photo of himself, shirtless and sprawled in bed. I can see the edge of his lazy smirk. Just like the first time.

  Licking my lips, I take a pic. My curls frame my face and I’m wearing a white bodysuit with illustrated peaches on it. On the backside it reads peachy keen across the butt. Maisy saw it when we were shopping and squealed, insisting I get it because it made my ass look amazing. Into the contraband box it went. Until now.

  My heart skips a beat as soon as I send it.

  Connor: Fucking hell, sunshine. I want you so much.

  A nervous laugh escapes me. There’s nothing like this, the way he makes me feel. A thrilling buzz travels across my skin as I settle on the armchair by the window, so I can peek at his across the way. Not only are the lights on, but I’m throwing caution to the wind. It’s daring, being out of my bed.