Bishop's Pawn

by Suzanne Halliday

  She threw her arms around the kindly grandmother surrogate she’d known all her life.

  Ginny’s wry grimace matched her words. “I feel bad for saying this, but you’ve changed for the better since your ma died. It’s almost like her passing was a good thing.”

  She watched Ginny Martin bite her lip and make a sheepish face. “Not a good Christian woman thing to say.”

  “It’s okay,” she assured her. “We’ll keep it between us ‘cause I feel the same way. Debbie was always so…”

  “Unhappy?”

  “Yeah. And detached.” She added a shrug and wrinkled her nose. “Not everyone is cut out to be a mother. I guess you could say as a parent she did what she could but only because she had to.”

  “She was a complicated, flawed sinner. Like the rest of us. I’m sorry she lived an unhappy life and glad she’s in a better place so you and Matthew can get on with it.”

  Talking about Debbie’s life and failings was on Kelly’s least favorites list, so she took Ginny’s last few words and turned them into a subject change.

  With a smirky chuckle, she elbowed the older woman. “Well, tonight getting on with it involves taking pool cue candy from a baby. I’ll be coming home with a hundred and fifty dollars in my pocket!”

  Ginny shook her head and gave a comical eye roll. “Always so dang sure, Kiki! Hope Shorty’s isn’t setting you up with a ringer.”

  “Pfft. As if! And it doesn’t matter who’s lining up against me. Not only do I have a magic pool cue, if the going gets dicey,” she said with a laugh, “all I have to do is flick open a few buttons, flash some boobs and bam. Victory.”

  With the perfect accent of droll, Ginny replied, “Men.”

  “Exactly.”

  Kissing the woman and giving her a shove to the door, she said, “Get moving old woman. It’s cold as a witch’s tit out there, and I’m sure Matty has already talked Sam’s ear off while they waited for you.”

  “There’s a storm coming in. I can smell it.”

  Both of them looked at the sky when they stepped down off the porch. At the end of the walkway, Sam’s drool-worthy F-250 growled deep and low as it idled in the brutally cold temperature.

  There was already a layer of old snow, not much—but enough to cover the ground. She made a quick mental bullet note to restock the wood stack by the back door just in case they got more.

  “Now you be careful in town, young lady. No drinking! And whatever you do, don’t instigate a bar fight.”

  The thought was outrageously funny enough to make Kelly laugh as she waved like a goofball at Matty who had his nose pressed against the rear cab window.

  Bar fight? Who? Her?

  Get real.

  “Oh, fuck my daddy’s wife,” some drunk moron shouted, earning the shithead a malevolent glare from Roman.

  “Did you see that?” the guy roared. “That girl knows how to fill a hole.”

  The room erupted in groans and rough laughter. He felt the clench in his jaw and mentally willed it to release before the unrelenting pressure cracked his teeth.

  In the center of this assemblage of down home good ol’ boys was his quarry. The mysterious Kelly Anne James. He glanced her way and clenched his jaw harder. She wasn’t anything like he expected.

  The minute she walked through the door all kinds of shit started happening inside him. Jimmy’s nodding heads up when she arrived got his heart thumping with pent up anticipation, but once he laid eyes on her the thumping went from slow and steady to a racing rhythm that forced him to suck in air.

  She was a smaller, dark-haired version of her older half-brother. The resemblance was a little weird—all things considered.

  For the first ten or fifteen minutes, he’d managed to convince himself that he was just going through the basics. He was supposed to watch and observe, right?

  The way too intimate full body assessment made whatever professional decorum he imagined turn to dust.

  Pale skin and black as night hair that reflected the overhead lights gave her an unusual aura. Kelly James in her natural state was quite a sight.

  If he had to guess he’d bet on five five. A little on the short side he supposed, although put her in a pair of heels and…yeah. That’s where his mind went.

  Wearing the uniform of her environment, she had on old jeans with a blue flannel tucked into the waist. When she came through the door, her hair hung loose, falling beautifully across her shoulders. But once the playing started, she’d pulled the whole mass into a high ponytail that for some unknown reason made his dick wake up. Watching her roll the flannel sleeves up to her elbow, he’d been more than a little fascinated how she trapped the cue between her legs to keep it standing upright as she fussed with her hair and sleeves. The sight of the red elastic band clutched in her teeth waiting to be put to use did more strange things to his dick.

  Until those first moments the hysterically laughing sardonic commentary going on in his head had been largely quiet. He was too much the spit shine and organized type for random flights of fancy that led nowhere. But his visceral response to Kelly Anne James in the flesh set off an explosion inside him.

  It was something Roman couldn’t explain. Or wrap his mind around. She was a girl for Christ’s sake. Barely in her twenties. Didn’t he know better than to let his control off the leash around someone so clearly not for him?

  Shit.

  What the fuck was going on?

  For the first ninety minutes, he kept to himself. Stayed almost hidden in a corner, observing his quarry while making assessments of the locals and her standing with them.

  Not for the first time in his life, he nursed a beer and considered how unfriendly women could be to each other. Years of being a watcher gave him a unique insight into these things. Like right now, he could point out three females who gave the impression of social friendliness but who, when thinking no one was paying attention, snarled and rolled their eyes.

  One, in particular, a tall bottle blonde with an attitude three miles wide, showed a particular disdain for Kelly.

  Roman knew a set of surgically purchased tits when he saw them and even from across the room he could tell Miss Backwoods was rocking the Dolly Parton special.

  Sneering into his drink, he took a short swallow. Fake tits were a weird universal truth. They showed up everywhere. In boardrooms, suburban bedrooms, and out-of-the-way hamlets in the middle of nowhere.

  He wondered if the blonde disliked Kelly because her boob to body ratio fell in salivating range and were Grade A Prime and obviously God given.

  Women. Go figure.

  The men were a different story. He knew these guys without really knowing them. Most turned out were ex-military. Not a lot of opportunity in places like this where there was no real industry to speak of, so a stint in the service was almost a lifestyle. They worked hard and loved America. He silently tipped his hat to each and every one.

  They also drank hard, and he knew what letting off steam on the weekend and an ass load of alcohol did to the social dynamic. Throw in a pool room challenge plus the lure of easy money, and a recipe for shit-fuckery was in the making.

  Oh, and where Kelly was concerned, the men gave her a pretty wide berth. He wasn’t close enough to hear the banter between her and the guys she played against, but body language told him a lot.

  His general assessment at this point was garden-variety basic. She was one of them but not. And she might be young but the lady put off a prison warden air. Messing with her would not end well for the unlucky fool taking a chance.

  He liked that. Another reminder of Liam, only in his boss-friend’s case substitute warden for commander in chief and add a double measure of iron will. Maybe there really was something in the power of a single thread of DNA, because the half siblings were remarkably alike.

  A round of shouts, catcalls and high fives around the three pool tables in the space wedged between the bar and tiny dining room rang out. He followed Kelly with his eyes. She mill
ed around in a corner, pretending to fiddle with her cue. The way she turned her back to the room was the loudest fuck off he’d heard in a long time.

  Jimmy sauntered by with an armload of empties collected from a circuit through the room. Like a seasoned operative with an understanding of tradecraft, he wiped off a round top behind Roman while juggling the bottles and calmly spoke. Anyone looking wouldn’t notice their communication.

  “Food break. About a half hour. Roast beef sandwiches at the bar if you’re interested. She’s ahead—no surprise. But a couple of the young wang whackers are starting to bitch.”

  Roman didn’t nod or react. His eyes swung around the room. A ruckus at the bar had everyone’s attention. Good.

  “What’s she driving?”

  With a final swipe of the table, Jimmy straightened. “Blue truck. Ford. Seventy-one. Difficult to miss.”

  “One last question. Any of these meatheads a friend? She have history with someone?”

  Jimmy juggled his burden again and moved closer to answer. “If she does, it’s a well-kept secret. Nobody pays much attention. Although someone’s gotta have her number.”

  “How come?”

  The friendly saloon keeper snorted. “I figured you knew. She’s got a kid, and I’m pretty sure there ain’t a lot of virgin births going on around here.”

  The expression ‘almost swallowed his tongue’ had new meaning when he all but choked to death from shock. “Say again? A kid? What the fuck, man. You never mentioned a kid.”

  “Seriously. Thought you knew. Couple of people have seen him. Lil says she saw them once talking to Sam the butcher. But she never brings the kid into town and you know how that goes. Country folk. They keep to themselves. No big,” he added with a growl.

  Fuck.

  Shit.

  Goddammit.

  This changed everything. A kid?

  Jimmy walked away leaving Roman to struggle with this new piece of information.

  From nowhere, a slow burn started in his gut. A dozen unsavory scenarios crowded his mind. All of them cast Kelly James as a victim. The idea that some man used her and left a kid for her to contend with made him physically sick. His earlier thought about how young she was only compounded the growing anger.

  An instinct, old and primal, took root inside him. He needed to protect this woman. It infuriated him that someone, anyone, messed with her. A simmering pot of raw anger fired up and complicated how he viewed this assignment.

  Finding Liam’s sister was one thing. He’d done that. Shit. They were sharing the same oxygen. Mission accomplished.

  Then, a powerful wave of emotion washed into his soul when a schism unexpectedly cracked open deep inside. He hadn’t felt anything quite like it in a very long time. Perhaps ever.

  Though his conscience flashed a neon warning that this was Liam’s blood sister, he completely ignored the consequences of his reaction and concentrated solely on the impulses driving him.

  The space separating them vanished in his mind’s eye. He felt drawn. Pulled toward her. Compelled by forces he scarcely understood, Roman discarded the beer bottle and let his internal guidance system lead him straight to her.

  Carefully maneuvering through the crowd without drawing attention, he was at the edge of the pool table she was hiding behind when he heard her voice for the first time.

  Two things happened in the same instant.

  The tinge of female huskiness in her voice made his dick rock hard, and he flew into a near blind rage upon discovering a male buck trying to corner her.

  “Oh fuck off Burt,” she growled with a snark-filled bite in her delivery. “Find a different tree to bark up before another switch falls on your delicate arse and makes you cry.”

  She was glaring up at a fat, greasy looking piece of nothing wearing a fake leather jacket.

  Roman was stopped dead by the whiney, high pitched squeal, completely lacking in testosterone, coming out of the guy’s mouth.

  “You won’t win Kelly. My dad says the land shoulda’ been his and that you and your kind are nothing but a bunch of squatters. Bastards the whole lot of you.”

  It would take no effort at all to squash the fucker like a bug, but before he got the chance, the dark-haired beauty gave back as good as she got. And then some.

  Holding up a fist, she used her other hand to imitate a turning crank that made her middle finger unfold. When it was at full attention she said, “Oops,” covered her mouth in mock apology, and then proceeded to crank in reverse till the implied fuck you was lowered.

  “You’re fucking with the wrong people,” her antagonizer spat out.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she smirked. Waving her hand in the air, she brushed him off. “Wah, wah. Go home to Daddy.”

  With that he marched off, muttering under his breath. Roman caught a heartbeat long flash of uncertainty in her eyes and marveled at the bravado it took for her to stand her ground.

  Continuing to ignore the warning bells clanging in his head he walked right up to her and drawled, “That guy’s a dick.”

  Her surprised blinks and the silence following his blunt observation suggested he might have miscalculated the right approach.

  Apparently social niceties were not on the menu. Before he could introduce himself, she took a determined step backward, crossed her arms and cocked a hip. The body language dared him to step over the line.

  It took a shit-ton of effort not to smile.

  “You’re not from around here.”

  A statement, not a question.

  He wondered what would come next, only to end up stupi-fucking-fied when she ground out, “Go away.”

  Wow. From zero to complete dismissal in under fifteen seconds. He must be losing his touch.

  “My name’s Roman. Roman Bishop,” he told her with a hand extended in friendly greeting.

  She just stared at him. He tried the old stick-to-your-guns tactic and decided to wait her out with his hand hanging in mid-air between them. In his experience, the most common response was embarrassment for the display of bad manners. But not her!

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass who you are. Go. Away.”

  Ah. He liked her spunkiness. She had real fire. Not pretend smoke and mirrors.

  “You’re Kelly, right? Kelly Anne James.”

  She shut down and froze so fast he felt an arctic chill flutter across his balls. Before he knew what happened, she was out the fucking door. He’d literally never seen anything happen so quickly before in all his years. One minute she was defending her territory and the next thing she was gone. G-O-N-E, gone.

  That’s when the shit hit the fan. When the undisputed pool champ up and ditches a game in progress, a game with a cash prize, all sorts of shit gets unleashed.

  In no time at all, the entire event became ugly. Accusations got hurled. A chair flew through the air. Everything went downhill from there. As a full out brawl built to a drunk weekend crescendo, Roman had plenty of time to consider what the fuck just happened with Kelly as he fended off and laid down his share of punches.

  Getting his ass beat hadn’t been on the evening’s agenda, but once the warrior inside caught the rumbling, clarion call of the alpha, well, what’s a guy to do?

  “What the holy fuck, Jimmy!”

  Roman lifted his head off the throbbing hand, holding it up in time to see his new friend’s self-declared ‘old lady’ toss an ice pack at the guy’s face a split second before one also sailed in his direction. He plucked it out of the air with his working hand and pressed the welcome cold against his cheek.

  “Did you two share a cup of stupid?” Lil snarled. With a snappy head shake and some seriously pursed lips, she glared at them through her glasses.

  “Aw, now come on baby. It was a good night, right Roman?” Jimmy replied with a hopeful, pleading look. “Made buck and cleared the place out with a bar fight.”

  “You got your asses kicked,” she muttered.

  Roman gave a slight nod. Yeah. But totally in a good wa
y. “Sorry little lady,” he chuckled. “But I have to side with my buddy. The bank gets a nice fat deposit, and y’all closed up early after the boys and us blew off a little steam.”

  “Oh geez,” Lil snapped in her cute Okie twang. “Zip it ride or die. He don’t need none of your Marine back up bullshit swagger.”

  Jimmy was nodding his head and smirking while a devilish glint lit up his eyes. “Marine back up bullshit swagger. I like how that sounds.”

  Lil threw back her head and laughed. “Give it a rest, Jimmy. You barely know what it means.”

  “Because it barely makes sense you little witch.”

  They stuck their tongues out at each other. “Nyah, nyah!”

  He had to admit it. These two offered another insightful peek inside an honest relationship. It was as if the universe wouldn’t let up with this one thing. The happy couple reminders.

  Jimmy and Lil were hilarious. He enjoyed how they swatted comments back and forth like Wimbledon champs. They were also very much a team. A unit. The concept held surprising appeal.

  “I’ve got closing out to do in the bar,” she said with a thumb pointed over her shoulder. “You gentlemen need anything?”

  Jimmy shook his head no and quickly colored when his lady bent over and whispered something. Roman knew the look and chuckled quietly.

  After she left and shut the office door, Jimmy offered a half shrug and a self-deprecating laugh. “Please explain how a woman goes from you’re a stupid ass to…well, you know.”

  “There is no other explanation than this one my friend. The women you describe? They’re the ones you keep.”

  “Got my Lil on lockdown,” Jimmy sniggered. “So let’s get back to your problem. What the hell happened man?”

  Anger and concern knotted inside him. “I have no fucking idea.”

  “Why did she take off?”

  The silence grew until it became awkward. Jimmy arched a brow and waited.

  “I spooked her,” he admitted.

  “Meaning?”