by Amo Jones
“Kitty, it’ll be ok. Whatever happens from here, just swallow what you see.”
My eyebrows pulled in together, then I let myself get lost in Nate’s eyes. The comfort of knowing I could trust him eloped me, and I quickly nodded my head. I could do this—regardless, and I needed to do this. I needed to tell him everything and fuck the consequences. We continued toward the pool house and then climbed the little wrap around porch. Adrenaline spiked through me, and just as Nate went to knock (even though I damn well know he never knocked with Bishop or any of the other guys before), I twisted the door handle and pushed open the door. Fuck it. I was Madison fucking Montgomery, and Bishop Vincent mother-fucking Hayes was mine.
There was laughing in the kitchen, then it went silent. Bishop stalked around, my lady parts humming. He looked pissed, and pissed Bishop was always a glorious sight. He was shirtless, the ripples of his tight body on display for me to wander, then my eyes dropped down to his jeans. Slightly loose, with tears and rips in all the right places, bare feet, and then my eyes slowly traveled their way back up again. He had a cap flipped backward, his hair sticking out the edges slightly, a bottle of Jack dangled from between his fingers, and then I zeroed in on his eyes. They hardened on me, and he bared his teeth with a slight hiss, eyeing me up and down in disgust.
Oh shit.
He was way past pissed.
He sauntered into the little room even more, his swagger mixed between a relaxed soldier getting ready to go to war, and a loose teenage boy who gives no fucks.
He was… was he drunk?
“Bishop?” Stupid first thing to say, but it was all I could manage.
“Oh, shieeetttt,” Nate shuddered, quickly opening the door again. “Yo, Kitty, we should come back…”
Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming rush to run. It was as though Nate and I just walked straight into the lion’s den, and I’m almost certain we were about to be ripped to pieces. Dumbest decision ever. Why the hell did I think it would be a great idea to come and poke the monster that I created? Well, because like the stupid girl I was, I thought the monster would forgive me. Monsters don’t forgive, especially ones who have tattoos and drive Maseratis.
I sucked down my nerves when his chest brushed against my breasts. I stepped backward quickly, my back smashing against the wall, knocking down a painted canvas.
His nose came to mine, and I slammed my eyes closed. I couldn’t open them. I couldn’t face him.
“Open your fucking eyes, Kitty,” he whispered devilishly, his lips brushing against mine ever so softly. So faintly, I fell for it and my eyes opened. Terror seized my muscles when I saw his pupils were dilated, his eyes almost pure black. They looked erratic, deranged and unhinged. This was Bishop not in control. He would always say how he hated getting drunk, and it really just wasn’t in his nature to do so. He was always in charge of his surroundings. It was unchartered territory him being drunk, and I was going in completely blind.
“Leave, dawg,” was all he said, his eyes staying on mine, but his words directed at Nate. His hips slowly pressed into my pelvic area, pinning me to the wall. He raised the bottle to his lips, took a swig, his eyes still on mine, and then dropped his arm, the other coming up to the side of my head, half caging me in. He smelled like Bishop. Minty, leathery, with a slight dose of cologne and soap, but now that was also mixed with whiskey. Shit. He tilted his head toward Nate when he saw he wasn’t moving. “I’ll deal with you this weekend. The way we deal with things. For now? Get the fuck outta my face, bruh.”
“What’s going on in here!” an unfamiliar voice interrupted jokingly. I tried to peek around Bishop to see who it was, but he blocked my view.
“Nah uh, kitty. Don’t want you getting ideas with this one.”
“Nate?” I whispered, my eyes on Bishop’s. There was no way I was going to be able to escape this. So I would stick it out and with him. Anyway, I’d rather I be here with him while he’s in this state so I can look after him. “I’ll be ok.”
Nate’s eyes flew between the two of us, but I witnessed right then and there the power difference between Bishop and Nate. If you didn’t know it yet, you would definitely know right then that Bishop was the alpha.
Bishop laughed, his head going back as he pushed off the wall, his dick pressing into my stomach roughly before standing straight with his shoulders back. “She definitely won’t be ok, but you can’t do shit about it.” Now he was going toward Nate. “I’d leave right now. We all know what happened last time I was this drunk, huh?”
Nate took a deep breath, and then looked back at me. “Text me if it gets bad. I don’t believe he’d hurt you—regardless.”
“That’s why you aren’t very smart, pup,” Bishop grinned at him, and then headed for the sofa in the lounge.
My head bobbed. This wasn’t the first time I had been terrified at the hands of Bishop, but no matter how scared I had been in my life, there was always a firefly sitting underneath that fear. That firefly held the light of hope.
Nate left, closing the door, and then I finally let my eyes go to the other guy who was in the room. He was shirtless too and was a little older than Bishop. He was bulky in the muscle department, veins popping out everywhere and had a long, thick dark beard. He didn’t look that old, because his body was beautiful, and his face looked young, I would say he had to be around thirty-one, or something. He was eyeing me as if trying to make a decision on me, and then he scoffed and shook his head, leaning forward on his elbows. Bishop lit up a—what I’m guessing—was a J, brought it to his mouth and inhaled before passing it to the big guy.
He hit play on his phone which was linked to the massive sound system set up he had around the entire room. He grinned, leaning back on the sofa, his leg perched up on the coffee table where there was a little mirror sitting on with lines of cocaine laid out and a rolled-up dollar bill. Fucking hell. The song started playing, and it was “#icanteven” from The Neighbourhood. Great. I have a whole night of this shit.
“You might wanna get into something more revealing than that, Kitty. Go in my room,” he paused, his eyes boring into mine with intensity. His lip curled into an evil grin. “I’m sure Khales left some of her shit in there from today.”
Big guy started coughing and laughing, banging on his chest with smoke escaping out of his mouth and nostrils.
“I’m good. Thanks,” I bit out, ignoring the fire of jealousy that ignited deep in my gut.
His eyes raked down my body. “You really ain’t.”
Ouch.
Ignore him. I took a seat on the floor in front of the fireplace. I forgot all about Khales for the brief second I was here, and I really hoped she didn’t come in.
“Kitty, c’mere.” Bishop looked over his shoulder and patted the spot next to him. I stood and followed his orders, sinking down onto the sofa. “Nice and Slow” by Usher started playing next. Cringe. A little intense.
Big guy nodded at me. “I’m Justin. This little shit’s older cousin.”
My eyes ran over his body, and up close, I could see the silver scars marring into his skin. In old English writing, the word “Lost, don’t find” was across his chest. He was a Lost Boy? I didn’t want to ask any questions, so I just smiled. “I’m Madison.”
Bishop’s arm casually snaked around the back of me as his head tilted back with the joint in his mouth.
Justin chuckled, picking up the rolled-up bill. “I know who you are, Swan.”
“I guess you would.” The slow song was really throwing me off with the setting, and my fingers itched to change it to something more upbeat. I could see Bishop’s head tilt toward me out of the corner of my eye.
“What’s the matter, Kitty, don’t wanna play games anymore?” He curled a few of my strands around his finger, and then stood, dropping the roach into the ashtray. “Too bad.” Then he climbed the stairs. “Get changed, cos.”
Justin’s eyes found mine again. “If I wasn’t so pissed at you for putting him through this, I w
ould say it was nice to meet you, but, I’d be surprised if you make it through tonight without getting killed.”
He stood up and stretched like he hadn’t just threatened my freaking life, and then went to the small bedroom behind the kitchen. With both of them out of sight, I finally let out a huge sigh of relief and reached for my phone. I saw Nate had texted me a few times and quickly opened them.
He won’t hurt you, but I can’t do jack shit, mads.
Text back, you all good?
Fuck.
I quickly texted out a reply.
I’m fine. We’re going out somewhere though.
Then I opened Tatum’s texts.
Dude, I think I’m still drunk.
I hit reply.
Wish I was, but unfortunately, I’m on babysitting duties.
I hit send and then opened to send her another.
BTW, if I go missing, Bishop totally killed me.
I tucked my phone back into my pocket and stood to my feet. I started tidying up the glasses and empty bottles, taking them to the kitchen and dumping them in the garbage bin. I knew where everything was, so I pulled down a glass and opened the fridge, trying to find something non-alcoholic to take the edge off, but I’m shit out of luck when I only find Redbulls. I grabbed one anyway and cracked it open.
“Guys! I think I’m finally ready, I know, I know, but perfection takes time,” I heard coming from the lounge. I rounded the kitchen cupboards, can pressed to my mouth and eyebrows quirked. I didn’t really give a shit if she had fucked Bishop. He was still mine and there was no way I was going down without a fight. Her eyes flew to mine. “What the fuck!”
I waved, and then lowered the can so she could see my grin. “Nice to see you again, too, and I totally disagree, that’s not perfection. That’s…” I tilted my head. “Fake.”
“Fuck you,” she spat, her hands coming to rest on her hips. “And who the fuck invited you?”
“Down, girl,” Bishop chuckled, walking down the stairs throwing a shirt over his head. He had changed his faded jeans to darker ones and had military boots on his feet now. He had also lost the cap, his hair now in its normal style, scruffily clean on the top of his head. His eyes came to me. “You really coming in that?” He was still drunk, I could see it in the way his eyes beamed with crazy. “Some of your shit is still upstairs.”
Khales was wearing a short leather skirt that made it almost painful to witness, and an equally leather crop top. He hair was straight, coming down to her hip bones and her makeup was heavy everywhere. I internally shriveled a little, feeling way too underdressed. And considering Bishop had raised this subject twice now, I figured I better go up and see what he’s got. He sat on the sofa, picked up a rolled dollar bill, snorted a line, and then cleared his nose and handed the bill to Khales, who took it with a grin while sitting beside him.
Fuck. I really, really, wish Tatum was with me right now. Walking upstairs to his bedroom, there were three things that I noticed instantly.
1 – His bed was ruffled with pillows and blankets were thrown around everywhere.
2 – There were two sets of towels on the floor, with a pile of girl’s clothes beside it.
And 3 – The makeup that was scattered all over his dresser.
The floor started to sink below my weight as my vision faded in and out. You can do this. You were kissing, rubbing up on two guys earlier. It’s fine. My guilt subsided a little. Now I was sort of glad I had something on him because he obviously had something on me. I looked at the leather headboard to his bed, noticing scratch marks indented in the leather and lipstick smeared on the sheets.
Fuck this.
I felt the last string I had snap inside my head and I went straight for the walk-in closet but found nothing. I wanted sexy. Just as I was diving through the last of my clothes in there, a little red lace bra crop top caught my attention. It was Tatum’s “skanky” top. The breasts were covered by lace, and the thin spaghetti straps trailed over my back, crisscrossed and then connected to a thin strap that had lace slightly dripping off it. It was sexy, hot, and totally something I would never wear, but fuck it. I threw my innocent top off, tossing it in Khales’ pile of clothes and squeezed into the little bra. My jeans were tight enough, I knew I didn’t them, so I fluffed up my long dark hair and went for the makeup. I caked it on, full on contouring (because I watched Tatum), and dark eyeliner. I lined my lips and then filled them in with dark burgundy that made my green eyes pop. “Shit!” I backtracked as I was on my way out, grabbing a pair of silver spaghetti heels and slipping them on. Thankfully, the heel wasn’t high, so I should be safe, and hopefully, I didn’t start drinking.
I headed back downstairs, checking my phone with my hair falling in waves over my shoulders when I started bobbing my head to the song that was playing. It was “Devil’s Night” from D12, and it reminded me of Halloween night in the woods…
I hit the bottom of the stairs and tucked my phone back into my pocket. “Ok, I’m ready to go,” I announced, looking up because aside from the song, everyone was silent.
Bishop’s eyes were on my chest and then came to my face. “I think I regret that.”
Khales flicked her hair over her shoulder, and Justin grinned from behind his glass.
They started walking out except Bishop, he was still staring at me. He took a swig out of that fucking bottle again.
“Bishop, can we talk?”
He snorted. “Now you wanna talk?”
I winced.
He shook his head, snatching the baggy from the table and shoving it into his pocket. “Get in the car, Madison.” I followed him out into the cool night, goosebumps instantly assaulted my flesh.
I grumbled. “I need a drink.”
His arm went back, handing me the bottle. “Trust me, Kitty, you will need it for tonight.”
I thought about it for a few seconds and then took it, wrapping my lips around the rim and my mind briefly drifted off to how Bishop’s mouth was in this very spot not so long ago. I could still feel the wetness from his lips. Creep, much?
I handed it back to him. “Thanks.” There was a stretch limo waiting for us, and I watched as Khales disappeared inside, but just as we reached the door, he stopped in front of me and turned to face me.
“Why?”
Shit. “I was hurt.”
“So you wanted to hurt me?” he urged, his head tilting. Then he stepped closer to me, wrapped his hands in my hair and yanked my head back so my face was there for the taking. We probably looked like a messed up couple bordering on domestic violence, but whatever. His lips smashed down onto mine and his tongue invaded my mouth. His lips worked over mine harshly, and then he pulled back, his teeth catching on my bottom lip, biting down. The metallic tang of blood hit my throat. “I don’t get hurt, Kitty, and I don’t get even. I get cold.” Then he grinned, and let go of my hair, my scalp now throbbing from the pain. “And you mean shit to me now. Get in the fucking car.”
Tears prickled the corner of my eyes, but I shoved past him and got inside the limo. He chuckled as he slid in beside me. “Get mad, Kitty, you know how that gets my dick hard. Only you won’t be the one soothing it tonight.” Then he shoved the bottle into my chest. “So as I said, drink. You’ll need it.” I took it, ignoring whatever bullshit Khales and Justin were talking with Bishop about, and drank. I didn’t take too much, because I didn’t want to get too messy too fast, but at the same time, I wanted to forget him. This was us, though. It had always been messy. It used to be beautiful, but now it’s more chaotic. It’s a storm that won’t stop and a tsunami that keeps rolling, but I’m addicted. I’m chasing the storm, regardless of the danger.
Bishop leaned back in the seat and looked at me. “Why you acting hurt? Now you can have any of the Kings you want.”
I ignored him because he’s drunk.
He laughed. “Good thing, since they’re all meeting up with us soon, and your friend Tatum will be there, so don’t worry.”
“I wa
sn’t worried, Bishop.” I was talking shit right now, but I wouldn’t let Khales have the satisfaction of witnessing how Bishop and I could be. I took another sip, and then Justin leaned forward and handed me the rolled-up bill. I looked at it and then looked at the little table in between us. Reaching for it, Bishop pushed my hand away. “No.”
I gritted my teeth. Okay, I wasn’t really going to snort a line, I was actually going to throw it out the window, but whatever. I huffed and waited it out until the car finally came to a stop outside a club. There was a massive line out the front that ranged from young college people to middle-aged people, to even older moms who obviously needed the break. Just saying, they should always get let into clubs before anyone else. Putting up with little kids has to like, I don’t know, offer some sort of advantage. Free wine and first priority into clubs.
Bishop opened the door and climbed out. I followed, and then saw he was already making his way to the bouncers. He started talking to them and then pointed toward us before walking through the front doors. I walked toward them, thinking he had probably locked me out, but they unhooked the little gate and let me through. I pushed through the doors and loud music instantly blared. The familiar smell of sweat and alcohol staining the air. There were dancers up in cages above us and the bar was one huge circle in the middle. I headed straight to the circle, deciding he could look after himself, and right now, I just wanted to forget about tonight. I’d talk with him tomorrow—hopefully—or not—Jesus, I was so confused. I banged on the bar. “Hey!”
