I run down the hall, stopping at the bastard’s door. It’s unlocked. I open it and freeze in the doorway. I rub my eyes, trying to dismiss what I’m seeing. Blood thunders between my ears; hell, I taste it. But I can’t move. Bishop is dead asleep on one end of the couch, his shirt open, his pants unzipped. And Macey, she’s topless, her bodice pulled down. She’s draped across Bishop’s chest—they’re both passed out and smell like a brewery. I’ll accept no excuses. No apologies or going back. I lived this with Julia; I’m not doing it again.
I slam the door, but they don’t move.
“Wake the fuck up!” I scream, stalking closer.
Nothing.
I can’t control it. I reach for Bishop, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, yanking him forward. He’s limp. I look at Macey; she’s fucking out, too. I draw my fist back and clench my jaw, ready to obliterate his face. Then I look at Macey again; tears burn my eyes. I let go and he falls backward. There are three empty bottles of wine on the coffee table and the credits for the movie are still rolling. Fucking drunks. I swipe one of the bottles and throw it across the room. It shatters on the far wall. I grab a second and do the same.
Then I tower over Macey’s half-naked body, breathing in her perfume, staring at her beautiful breasts. My breasts. Not anymore. That kills me inside. I’ve invested everything in her, my heart and soul. She sparked me back to life, everything about her pleased me. Even her pain made me want to fight for her. How can I just turn my feelings off? Even seeing her this way, I still ache for her. That glorious smile that rivals any Texas sunrise, the sound of her laughter—her sharp tongue. I fish inside my shirt pocket and pull out a ring box. I open it, eyeing the three-karat sapphire surrounded by diamonds.
“I loved you,” I whisper, snapping the box shut. “I fucking worshipped you.” I drop the box on her lap, discarding it like trash. Let her keep it as a memory piece for what she never got from me. A proposal. That’s what I was going to do tonight. Drop on my fucking knees and beg her to love me forever. Tell her she need not work at the club another day in her life. Offer her a home at the ranch if that’s where she wants to be. I’d have gone anywhere, done anything for her. I can’t breathe; I need fresh air. Fuck. I need to get out of here before I kill them both. Now.
I should cover her, but I want her to wake up to the same shame I’ve been exposed to. She deserves it. I walk to the door, open it, push the lock in, and glare over my shoulder a last time, the sight of her with Bishop seared into my memory forever.
I go home. There’s beer in my fridge and I grab a bottle, twist the top off, then pound it. I grab another. Fuck me. The puppy barks. I go to the bathroom and open the door. Simon gazes up at me. I scoop him up and take him to the living room. I finish my beer and recline on the couch with the puppy in my lap. A couple of tears fall, and I brush them away. She’s not worth it.
Two hours later, I wake up buzzed and angrier than before. I stash Simon in the bathroom again and return to Bishop’s condo. I pound on the front door. Nothing. I kick it, willing him to answer. This is going to happen, now or later. “Open the door.” Ten minutes later, I realize they’re either still passed out or fucking. “Soon,” I whisper against the door frame. “We’ll settle our score.”
Chapter 22
The sound of heavy rain wakes me up. My neck is stiff and my hands are numb. I regret opening my eyes and raising my head the second after I do. Pain rips through my skull. I sink back into soft leather, wondering where I am. My mind is foggy, but I chance opening my eyes again. Bishop’s condo? I fell asleep on his couch? Why am I so chilly? My bodice is down, that’s why. How? I force myself up, rubbing my eyes. Something plunks on the floor, but I ignore it.
Then I hear someone shifting next to me. It’s Bishop. Oh. My. God. His clothing is in disarray, too, his shirt unbuttoned, his pants hanging open. Fear hits me. Fear I got so drunk last night that I blacked out and did something terrible. And judging by the condition Bishop and I are in, I pray we didn’t make a grave mistake. I don’t even want to think about it. And where is Joshua?
“Bishop?” I wrestle my top back up, covering my breasts. “Wake up.” I give him a solid shake.
He groans, his eyes slowly opening. “What the hell?” He massages his head with both hands, then stares at me, his mouth agape. “Macey?”
“Do you remember anything?” I ask.
He leans forward, eyeing the coffee table. “No.”
“Where’s Julia?”
“That’s a good question,” he says, standing up. Then he stares at his crotch. “My pants are open.”
“Yeah,” I say. “And my dress was half off.”
He gives me a concerned look, then zips his fly. Doesn’t this guy ever lose control? “We’ll figure this out.” He rests his hand on my shoulder. Then he pads down the hallway. “Julia?” he calls twice. “She’s not here.”
I shiver, not from cold, but from this sudden feeling of impending doom. I stagger to the dining room to find my purse. I flip it open and grab my cell. Nine in the morning. I dial Joshua’s number, but there’s no answer. I try again and again, getting the same results. Shit. The table is cleared. I walk into the kitchen; dishes are piled in the double sinks. The last thing I remember is watching The Notebook while Julia and Bishop went outside to smoke pot. Crap. Think. I tap my chin. But all I draw is a big, fat blank.
Bishop appears wearing a T-shirt and shorts, his thick hair combed. “Nothing,” he says. “I tried calling Julia—she won’t answer.”
“I dialed Joshua’s number a dozen times.”
“Stay here,” he says. “I’ll check next door.”
He’s back in two minutes. “Either we missed something, or we’re in the middle of an episode of The Twilight Zone.”
“I’m scared.” My whole body starts to shake.
He clutches my shoulders, staring down at me. “Come on, baby.” He gently steers me backward, pulls out a chair, then deposits me in it. “We both need food.”
“I’m thirsty.” Dehydrated is more like it. That’s why I gave up getting drunk—I started blacking out too much. “I don’t understand, Bishop. Surely we didn’t…”
“No.” He hovers in the doorway between the dining room and kitchen, a dish towel draped over his left shoulder, a package of coffee in his hand. “I’d never forget—”
“Don’t say it,” I command, afraid he’ll make my fears come true if he does. “I’m completely dry down there.” I feel pretty shitty right now having to discuss it with him.
“Me too,” he admits. “I’m sorry, Macey. But it appears we got drunk and probably lost control. Even if we didn’t have sex.”
Tears stream down my cheeks. “No,” I cry. “No. No. No.”
He’s kneeling between my knees in a flash. “Listen to me.” He cups my cheek. “If we did, I won’t regret it. I can’t. I’ve wanted you from the beginning. And if this had to happen to give me a chance, so be it.”
I can’t face him. I want to scream and run as far away as possible. But I can’t. I need Bishop, because I can’t figure this out alone. Not now. And I don’t want to face the consequences of the actions I can’t remember. Misery loves company. “No.”
“Yes.” He takes my hands and I try to break free. But he’s too strong and determined. “Look at me, Macey.”
I do.
“Fate.”
I shake my head vigorously. Facts are facts, though. “No.” Is that the only cognitive thought my alcohol-saturated brain can form? I’m in complete denial. “I love Joshua.”
“I know.” He rocks back on his heels, still holding my hands. “Anyone that sees the two of you together can figure that out.”
I raise my chin. “Then why are you still determined to have me?”
“Because I can’t lie to myself or you. I’m willing to wait, give you whatever time you need to recover. Just don’t shut me out, not after this.”
“We don’t even know what this is.”
“It’s pret
ty clear,” he says. “My shirt reeked of your perfume. And there was brown lipstick on my collar. The same shade you’re wearing now.”
I wipe at my traitorous lips. Good God. More evidence. I’m a whore. Joshua leaves me alone for a couple of hours and I lose control. Yeah, I’m attracted to Bishop, but not that much. Or am I? I stare at him, wondering. Considering. Maybe chemistry took over after the alcohol overtook my inhibitions. “No.”
He lets go and stands. “You’re in shock, Macey. Let’s eat some breakfast and drink some coffee so we get our wits about us again. Okay?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’ll eat,” he says with finality, walking into the kitchen.
I seek solace on the balcony and can’t even feel the cold morning breeze against my cheeks I’m so numb. Why did this happen? Where’s Joshua? Where’s Julia? Did she leave with him after they caught us? That’s the only scenario that makes any sense. He won’t answer his phone. She won’t either. Then I remember, Joshua’s balcony is right there. If I hop over the wall…I practically run. I fumble over the edge, but manage to stay on my feet. The drapes are drawn, but it’s fairly dark inside. I try the door; it’s locked. I knock gently at first, but then it turns into a frenzied pounding. Again and again, double-fisted. Until my knuckles bleed.
I feel light-headed all of a sudden, and my knees start to give out.
“I’ve got you,” Bishop whispers from behind. I feel his strong arms around me. He scoops me up. “Inside.”
The last thing I remember is being lowered into his bed.
—
I stare at my iPhone screen. Thirteen missed calls from Macey. It took every ounce of resistance I possess not to answer that goddamned phone. She’s desperate. I understand. So am I. But for different reasons. That’s why I came to work, so I wouldn’t kick in Bishop’s door and beat the life out of him. Then my cell rings again, only this time, it’s him.
“What the fuck do you want?”
He clears his throat. “Listen to me, Joshua.”
“You’re dead.”
“Stop raving and listen to me…”
“What?”
“Macey is devastated. I think you’d better come over…”
I hang up.
Then someone knocks on my office door. “Enter.”
It’s Glenda with two cups of coffee. She steps inside and closes the door. I watch as she places the mugs on my desk, then invites herself to sit down. “Spill,” she says.
“Excuse me?”
“You look like shit, Camden.” She’s ballsy. “And I wasn’t born yesterday. The morning after Valentine’s Day? You should still be tucked in bed with my girl.”
“Mind your own fucking business.”
She’s unaffected. “I have all day.”
I slam my fists on the desk. “You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
I tell her everything, including the part about the ring.
For the first time since I met her, she’s quiet.
“Believe me?”
She nods. “But I don’t understand. Macey quit drinking heavily over a year ago. She parties still, but I’ve never known her to act that way. Never.”
“Well, she has now.”
“You love her.”
My love is inconsequential, but I won’t lie. “Yes.”
“Give her a chance to explain.”
“I can’t. I was going to propose to her last night.” I’m not going to relive the hell I experienced after Julia cheated on me. “She’s on her own.”
“Just think about it.”
“There’s nothing to consider. I don’t tolerate cheating of any kind.”
She frowns. “You’ll change your mind.” She slides her cup off my desk, gets up, then leaves without saying another word.
—
I wake up from a bad dream kicking and screaming, clawing my way out of a dark place I can’t name and don’t ever want to remember. It’s a recurring nightmare I have whenever I’m stressed. It started when I was a kid and has stayed with me. I feel a cold compress on my forehead and open my eyes. “Bishop?”
He’s sitting in a chair beside the bed. “I’m here.”
The room is nearly dark, with the only light the nightlight in the corner. I check my hands—they’re wrapped in gauze and they sting. “What happened?”
He leans forward. “Gave me a good scare, that’s what happened.” He rubs his chin. “You freaked out, banged your knuckles bloody, then fainted.”
It’s all coming back to me—and I hate how it feels. I’d rather return to the scary place in my nightmare than face the reality of my life without Joshua. “How long was I asleep?”
“Three hours.”
I try to sit up, but Bishop stops me, his big hand resting on my stomach. “Rest.”
“Is that the doctor talking or the man who wants me?”
“Both,” he sighs.
Then I notice I’m wearing only my underwear. “Where’s my dress?”
“Hanging in my closet.”
“You undressed me?”
“I did.”
I swallow, not too sure how I feel about that. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“I’m in love with you.”
“Oh.” I wanted to know. “What about Julia?”
“A distraction.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“No.”
For some reason that makes me feel better. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Why?”
“Because you shouldn’t make love to someone you don’t care about.” This conversation is getting way too personal. He’s surprisingly candid, and way too calm.
“I agree wholeheartedly.” He crosses his legs. “I’d like to make love to you.”
“I’m starting to question your bedside manner, Doc.”
He chuckles. “Trust me,” he says nonchalantly. “This is the first time I’ve discussed sex with a woman in this manner. You’re a walking contradiction, Macey Taylor, which makes you that much more irresistible.”
“And you’re not an asshole.”
“Glad to hear it.” He laughs again. “When did I get labeled as one?”
“After church last week.”
“Yeah,” he says. “Not one of my better moments.”
“I forgive you.”
He leans over and pecks my cheek. “I found something under the coffee table after I put you to bed.” His shoulders droop. “I think you need to see it.”
“What is it?”
“Open up your hand,” he says.
I do and he places a small velvety box in it. Then he walks to his closet, opens the door halfway, and turns the light on. “I’ll give you a moment of privacy.”
“Thank you.” I wait until he closes the bedroom door to inspect it. A ring box? I open it. “Please no.” The sapphire and diamonds sparkle in the light. I take it out and slip it on my left ring finger. “An engagement ring. Joshua wanted to marry me.” Tears fall again. I’ve lost everything I’ve secretly dreamed of.
When my best friend, Robyn, and Garrick got married, I pretended they were fools. And when her little sister, Marisela, got engaged, I teased her relentlessly. Because I was covering up my own loneliness instead of facing the truth. My life is void of love and commitment, always has been. I never embraced it before. And now that I have, now that I’m ready to run into the light instead of running away from it, I’m screwed. Up the ass and every other way possible. I’ve lost Joshua. I hold my hand up, admiring the stones, dreaming of what last night would have been like if he hadn’t gone to work or I’d gone to his condo instead of waiting for him here.
There’s nothing I can do to change the past. That’s what my father always said when I begged him to stay home. He told me there was no reason to get better acquainted; we’d missed our chance to be a real family. Then he’d pay the bills and leave again. Why should I have expected anything different out of Joshua? I knew he’
d leave eventually; I just wasn’t prepared for it to happen this soon.
A few minutes later, Bishop taps on the door.
“Come in.”
“All right?”
“My heart is breaking, but I’ll survive. I always do.”
He sits on the edge of the bed. “I’ll help you.”
“How?”
He’s silent for what seems an eternity. “I’m not sure, but as soon as I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”
I appreciate his compassion. And I’m glad he was here to take care of me. Although he’s admitted he loves me, he hasn’t tried to take advantage of me. I won’t forget his kindness. “Thank you.”
Chapter 23
Three days later, I find the courage to go back to work. I still haven’t recovered. I’ve been walking around in a half daze, like an emotional zombie. And I haven’t heard from or attempted to contact Joshua since the morning after Valentine’s Day. Silence says everything. However, I will speak with him briefly tonight; I need to return the ring. It’s so beautiful, but I don’t want it. It must have cost a small fortune and he can spend that money on something else. I park and slowly go inside, not sure what to expect. It’s Wednesday night and not very busy, so I head for the office before I change. I knock.
“It’s open.”
Joshua is seated at his desk, punching numbers into a calculator. He stops and looks up. “Ms. Taylor,” he says coolly. “Finally decided to show up for work again?”
I want to kiss him. I want to beg his forgiveness. I want him to make love to me. I suck it up and place the ring box on the edge of his desk. “You must have accidentally left this behind the other night.”
“No, I didn’t.” That’s it? No explanation? No feelings? He studies his paperwork again, silently dismissing me from his presence.
But I’m determined to see this through and don’t move.
Sin Page 15
