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

by Veronica Eden

  Shame there isn’t a fight tonight. Then again, I’m so ready to go off, I might be a danger to myself and others, like Doctor Levitt warned me.

  Devlin pulls in, parking behind the rusted old storage building next to the car Blair is leaning against. He cuts the engine and we climb out.

  “Did you get it?” Blair asks.

  Without a word, I unlock my phone and hand it to her, jaw clenched.

  “Shit,” Blair hisses, scrolling through the photos. Devlin leans over her shoulder, scowling. “What a sick dickhead.”

  “I’ll kill him.” I stalk away, grabbing one of the broken old pieces of steel littering the ground around the building.

  “Bishop,” Devlin calls.

  “Just—give me a minute, man. It’s too much. If I don’t get it out, it’ll eat me up.”

  He and Blair exchange a glance. They leave me alone as they go through what I found on my phone. Seeing the way Devlin rubs Blair’s arms when a chilly breeze moves through the clearing makes me ache to speed across town to tuck Thea in my arms.

  Releasing a harsh yell, I swing the metal with all my might against the ground, leaving a deep dent in the gravel. I lose myself in it for several minutes, pouring the torrent of emotions into destruction. By the time I come back to myself, I’m panting.

  “Feel better?” Blair asks lightly as I walk back to them.

  “Much.” With a sigh, I toss the busted up piece of steel aside into a patch of scrubby weeds and drag a hand through my hair. “So. Yeah. Coleman.”

  “Coleman,” Devlin repeats in a dark tone.

  “Dead man fucking walking,” I utter harshly.

  “Exactly,” Devlin agrees.

  All three of us are pissed off by the pictures I took. I’m glad I have the two of them with me so I don’t have to deal with this alone. Now that the adrenaline and fury are under control, I’m itching to get out of here so I can send proof, get the unsealed files from those hackers, and finally tell Thea what I’ve been keeping from her.

  “Did you take the locket?” Blair holds up my phone, showing me the photo of the trophy drawer.

  My lip curls. I pull out the necklace by the chain, the pendant dangling in the air.

  She leans in to examine it. “What do you think those guys who hacked your computer will do?”

  “They seem pretty dangerous.” I shrug. “And they wanted it fast. If they don’t do something by next week, I will.”

  “I knew he was a creep, but thinking of sitting through class with him is—ugh.” Blair shakes off her shudder, burrowing into Devlin’s side. He wraps his arms around her. To anyone else it might look like a normal embrace, but Devlin’s knuckles turn white from how tight he clings to her, like he’s preventing her from disappearing on him after he almost lost her. “I’m so grossed out right now.”

  Devlin props his chin on Blair’s head and cuts his gaze to me. “Ready to head home?”

  “Yes. I have the proof one way or another. Time to do what I do best.”

  “You’re a real piece of work when you go into blackmail mode.” Devlin smirks, tossing me a set of keys. “Here, take that one. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

  “Thanks,” I call to them as Devlin opens the passenger door for Blair. “No one I’d rather commit a crime with than you two.”

  Blair snorts, glancing up at Devlin.

  “Go be the Batman to your girlfriend.” He nods to me before he gets in the driver’s seat and revs the engine.

  I watch as the wheels throw gravel and dust while Devlin pulls out of the quarry.

  Getting into the car Blair had been driving, I grip the wheel tight. I’m a man on a mission as I turn the ignition and drive home.

  Thirty

  Thea

  When my call goes to Connor’s voicemail, I hang my shoulders in defeat. I thought things would be better after our amazing night in the mountains, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of him for days. Every time I look across the space between our windows, his light has been off.

  “You’ve reached Bishop. You know I don’t check this shit, so I don’t know why you’re bothering. Text me.”

  There goes my plan to invite him with Maisy and I to the holiday bazaar downtown. Winter break is off to a great start with my boyfriend back to avoiding me.

  With a sigh, I set my phone next to the rainbow clock on my nightstand and flop on the bed, hugging my stuffed sea lion.

  An unpleasant flutter fills my chest.

  Could Connor be bored with me? If he is, why would he tell me…

  I close my eyes and just breathe for a second to stop the racing thoughts and nasty inner voice that makes me doubt everything. No matter how hard I try, I can’t keep it at bay.

  You’re not good enough to keep someone like him. He’ll forget you soon enough.

  I swallow past the lump in my throat. The thoughts chew me up, leaving me raw and vulnerable. Curling on my side, I hug the sea lion tighter, burying my face in the plush fuzziness.

  I can’t go back to being invisible. Not to him.

  After a few minutes of breathing through the thorns twining around my heart, pricking at every insecurity, I get up and pat my puffy cheeks.

  “This calls for double chocolate fudge cupcakes.”

  With a sniffle, I text Maisy before the evening yoga sessions start at the wellness and recreation center she volunteers for.

  Thea: Great British Bake Off marathon after your class?

  Maisy: You got it, dude. Which season?

  Thea: [hiding monkey emoji] All of them…?

  Maisy: Oh lordt. Should I cancel class? The yoga moms can survive one day without their warrior 2 and downward dog.

  Thea: No, no. I’m going to bake us cupcakes until you get here. See you after class!

  Maisy sends me two peace sign emojis and promises not to eat all the cupcakes this time. I pull on the hoodie I stole from Connor, press the neckline to my nose, and close my eyes. It feels like he’s hugging me when I wear it.

  Downstairs, Constantine follows me into the kitchen while I tie my hair back in a pony tail. A few minutes later I have the oven preheating, my supplies are out, and the cupcakes are underway.

  I’m still feeling sensitive about Connor as I’m mixing the batter when Mom walks in, eyeing me critically. I’m too tired to fend her off if she says anything about wearing my boyfriend’s hoodie.

  “Mom,” I say in greeting while she pours herself a glass of wine. It’s not her first of the day.

  “What are you making today?” she asks after a minute of stale silence.

  An exhale leaves me, unwinding the tension in my shoulders. It’s okay. She’s going to be normal and not attack me.

  “Double chocolate fudge cupcakes. Extra gooey.” I direct my hesitant smile at the mixing bowl. “Would you rather have peanut butter or cream cheese frosting?”

  Mom says nothing. I look up to find her gaze narrowed on me in disappointment.

  “Yeah…” I trail off. “You’re right. Peanut butter would probably be too rich with the chocolate. Still, I’m kind of craving it, so I guess I’ll make a batch of both.”

  I’m desperate for a scrap of normalcy with her. It’s always made me crazy that I can’t have the same bond with her I had with grandma. Part of me wonders if she’s resented me all these years because I liked baking and she never did, so grandma and I had something Mom couldn’t get from her.

  “Are those for that horrible boy next door?” The acid in her voice stings.

  A weak protest catches in my throat. I was wrong. She’s primed for attack after all, and I’m too drained to clash with her.

  Mom continues before I can push any response out, planting her hands on the island between us. “Look at you, like his little housewife baking away. You have to understand, Thea. Men aren’t trustworthy.” Her voice drops to a horrible, grating whisper as she tears into me. “His doting is all a lie. He doesn’t want you. All of them are the same—only after one thing.”


  “Mom, can we not?” With a frown, I shut her out, keeping my spine straight as I work on the batter. “I’m so tired of having this argument.”

  Circling the island, she pinches the sleeve of Connor’s hoodie and yanks. “We clearly need to have it. You must’ve given him what he wanted, so now he’ll drop you. If that’s all he does, you’ll be lucky.”

  The words cut deep, blow after fatal blow.

  She hasn’t bothered me with this in over a month, so she must have been bottling it up to dump on me all at once. I clutch the whisk hard enough the handle leaves an indent in my palm.

  “Mom, please,” I whisper in a tight voice, holding back the tears pooling in my eyes.

  I’ve held out against her for so long, never giving in. But everything she’s saying pulls on the same fears that haunted me in my bedroom when Connor didn’t take my call.

  “You’re going to end up just like my sister.”

  I blink. “Wait—what?”

  Mom closes her eyes. “You had an aunt. My younger sister. Momma’s favorite.”

  This is news to me. I knew Mom and grandma had bad blood between them all the way up to when she passed away, but this is something Mom has never talked about.

  “She met a boy when she was in high school, about your age. I’d gone off to college and couldn’t keep an eye on her.” Mom’s lip curls, gulping her wine. Now she’s so close, I can smell it on her breath. Her eyes are too bright. “She was always dressing for attention and it caught his eye. He was older, but it doesn’t matter. They all want one thing. He got it from her, all right. Left her dead in a ditch for it once he had her body.”

  “Mom,” I breathe. “Jesus.”

  Everything about her strictness with me, why she’s always nagged me to dress conservatively, becomes crystal clear. But it doesn’t mean Connor is like the man who hurt her sister.

  She’s silent for a beat, eyes glassy. “Too infatuated. Thought he hung the moon. Just like you.”

  “I—Connor isn’t like that. He’s always been sweet and gentle with me, even when we—” I cut off. Crap. “He’s a good guy, Mom.”

  She folds her arms and nods like she has all the confirmation she needs. “You should’ve listened to me in the first place.”

  With the satisfaction of the final word and making me feel small on top of telling me about her sister’s death, she takes her wine—the glass and the bottle—and leaves me alone, crying over my cupcake batter.

  Thirty-One

  Connor

  There was nothing I wanted more than to go straight to Thea after I left Coleman’s place. But first I have to know what the mysterious hackers have on him. Once I get all the concrete evidence, I’ll take every damning piece of it to her.

  Damien didn’t even register as I blew through the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time to my room. Slamming down in the chair at my desk, I hook up the encrypted drive and my phone to input what I found at Coleman’s house. I pull out the locket and set it next to the computer as I work.

  It occurs to me when I’m halfway through adding the new information on Coleman to the file in my app, I have no idea how to contact Dolos. No sooner does the thought cross my mind, a chat window pops up in the middle of the screen.

  “Backdoor? Those douchebags.” I try to navigate away or close the window, but the only access I have is the chat window.

  An irritated sound rumbles in my throat. This is pissing me off. My system isn’t easy to hack. I pride myself on the security measures I have in place to prevent compromises, but they’re able to slip past them with ease.

  Dolos: Well? We know you infiltrated Coleman’s residence tonight.

  Connor: The fuck? Were you watching me the whole time?

  Dolos: Someone had to check you were doing as we said.

  Connor: I thought you didn’t know where he lived?

  Dolos: We didn’t. You found it, we traced your phone.

  Connor: Whatever. Give me what you promised.

  Dolos: Proof first. Take a picture.

  Blowing out a breath, I lift the locket as my webcam connects. I peel off the electrical tape I cover the camera with and hold the locket close.

  Dolos: Good.

  A second later, a compressed file labeled HKC comes through, along with control of my computer again. I hold my breath as I double click to open it. Once it’s ready, air hisses from my lungs.

  “Holy shit.”

  It’s all there. Reports, police records, employment history. Between the stuff at his house and the files documenting his previous two employer records—both with complaints of sexual harassment and inappropriate conduct with minors in his charge—I have more than enough to make a move.

  I’m so focused on combing through the information in the unsealed files, I almost miss the new message blinking in the chat window.

  Dolos: Now we start the next phase. Stay put.

  “What? No.” My brows pinch as I type.

  Connor: Fuck that. Wherever you are, you can suck it. He’s here and he’s a threat.

  Dolos: You will do nothing.

  I don’t answer to these assholes. I’m getting fed up with them telling me what to do. Screw waiting, it’s time to act.

  Dolos: Don’t be an idiot when you still have that cute little neighbor to think of. We hate making threats against the innocent ones.

  Fuck.

  Connor: Fine. What’s the next phase?

  They don’t answer. The window disappears and the screen goes black, flashing with a laughing skull being circled by another 8-bit crow.

  “Assholes.” I reboot my computer once again, really hating their idea of goodbye.

  Every part of me revolts at the thought of sitting on my hands. I’ve done enough of that. If I don’t do something, Coleman has more chances to hurt Thea.

  Why should I sit around and wait for whoever the hell these guys are when they’re somewhere else and I’m here in town with a monster hyper-focused on my girl?

  I’ll die before I let the crows or Coleman touch her.

  All I want to do is protect Thea. She won’t slip through my grasp.

  Thirty-Two

  Thea

  In the morning, I feel like a husk. Maisy stayed up with me half the night after we gorged our way through the cupcakes, then ate frosting directly out of the mixing bowl during three full seasons of feel-good bake off competition. She helped me through the shock of finding out I should have an aunt.

  Grandma never said anything. Maybe Mom forced her to hide it from me, but my heart aches for her, losing a daughter at such a young age in a horrible way.

  Groggy, I roll over in bed. Maisy is starfished, arms and legs spread to take up most of the mattress while I’m curled against the edge. It’s funny that such a kind-hearted, giving person can be such a bed hog. I somehow end up fighting her skinny butt for space every time we’ve shared a bed over the years.

  With a groan, I nudge her. “Up. Or move. Whatever you want, just do something because I’m about to fall off.”

  Maisy cracks one hazel eye open, squinting at me. “Demon.”

  “Maise.” I laugh as she burrows further under the covers.

  “The sugar coma I’m coming off of might be the end of me. We had a good run, bestie.” She shuffles over, reaching out blindly to drag me closer. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’ll be okay, I think. Thank you.” I massage my forehead. “It was a lot on top of an already emotional state of mind.”

  Maisy hums, hugging me. “Do you still want to go to the holiday market? Instead we could do a face mask spa day. Meditate it out? Or do I need to pull out the big guns with goat yoga?”

  A sleep-tinged, husky chuckle rolls out of me. “Actually, I think I’m going to shower and head next door. I want to see if Connor is home before we go to the holiday market.”

  “Mind, body, and spirit self-care bonding with a friend passed over for the power of a good dicking,” Maisy teases, pinching my sides where I’m t
icklish.

  I flail in my attempt to escape. “Maise, no!” I wail, clawing my way to freedom while she tortures me with precise attacks. “God, you’re the worst! You know it’s not like that!”

  Laughing, she sits back against my headboard. “I know. The vagina needs its own worship to achieve the zen of self-care, too.”

  “Oh my god, you’re such a weirdo.” I flop on my back, head dangling off the bed. “Love you.”

  “Love you back,” she sings. “We’ll meet up later by the entrance to the bazaar?”

  “Of course.”

  “Sweet. Dibs on the shower first.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll take one later.

  As Maisy heads for the bathroom, I try messaging Connor again.

  Thea: Are you around?

  No response comes by the time she’s done.

  An hour later, I’m standing outside Connor’s house after lunch time. I don’t know what I expected when I knocked on the door, but it wasn’t Mrs. Bishop answering instead of him. She’s dressed down, rather than the power suits I typically see her in. Maybe she has off from city council duties today.

  “Oh. Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt your day, Mrs. Bishop.”

  Mrs. Bishop leans against the door frame, rather than welcoming me inside. “Vivian, please. What is it?”

  “Is Connor home?”

  She sweeps her gaze over me, pursing her lips. It’s the most expressive reaction I’ve witnessed since that night in the coat closet at the benefit dinner.

  “Come inside.” Without waiting, Vivian turns and walks deeper in the house.