That last part he said with the perfunctory abruptness of a grocery store order, because that was the only way he could get through it.
“Goddamn, man.” Locke shook his head. “And you two, you and Ella?”
Wasn’t that part of their problem? “Barely any scrapes and bruises. Isn’t that some fucking shit?”
And they never spoke of it, never dealt with it, never grieved together, and never forgave one another for that night. “We were young, didn’t know how to deal. We buried Brie and acted as though life moved forward.” Failing miserably…
Teammates always knew the deepest and darkest secrets, but even his Ranger team was only aware that he’d lost a sister. Not when or how. Not like this. And nothing about Ella.
Funny, too, was that Bishop blamed that fucking phone, their need to connect at that damn second. It was stupid and emotional, but it was the truth, and maybe one of the reasons he couldn’t believe where Ella’s career had taken her: into the belly of the beast that had destroyed their lives. That monster was still hungry.
He couldn’t help but make the connection. Ella posted videos and blogged, and now a stalker had his sights set on her. Bishop’s blood ran cold. He could lose both to the same destructive force.
“Wish there were reasons when life tries to ruin us.” Locke slapped him on the back and went back to the shelves, sorting through the other options. “But if she’s yours, deal with your shit, and never let her go again.”
Heavy advice that sounded just like a warning. Bishop bit his lip. Ella was a new woman. She even came with a new name. But when they connected, all things were the same. They belonged.
It wasn’t a matter of possession.
Just fact.
Eloise Lewandowski, or Ella Leighton, or whatever the hell she wanted to be called, belonged to him. And he was hers.
Jax ambled in. “Sorry I’m late.” He whistled. “The door clicked open, and I wandered into paradise.”
“Hey.” He ran a hand over his face, wanting to forget how losing Brie and Ella shredded him.
Jax did a full circle, taking in the enormity of the workshop. “This shit is wild.”
Locke had gone back to silent mode, and Bishop filled Jax in on what Sarah had said they could get into.
Jax and Locke were lost in the world of GUNS, silently working. Bishop too, but his mind wasn’t entirely in that room. It wasn’t just thousands of miles away. It was walking the outskirts of a cemetery that he hadn’t set foot in since Brie’s funeral, and man, what a piece of shit did that make him?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ella dug her toes into the wet, cold sand. There was something about the evening as the dark skyline merged into the inky ocean. She listened to the calm. The lapping waves and the deserted beach gave her space to let her mind drift. It had been so long since she had been at peace, and she hadn’t realized it.
For the time she spent playing down her stress, the only true respite she’d had recently was in Bishop’s arms. Funny how it took traveling thousands of miles to make that realization. He’d said she needed to relax, asked her when was the last time she’d been silly.
“I didn’t believe him,” she told the waves.
Furry Baby and Little Kitty were wonderful distractions. Vlogging and live chatting with Eco-Ella fans couldn’t be more fun. But pets could only do so much, and work was actually work.
The beach had always been her safe zone, even when filled with bastards who only thought about their bank accounts. What an adrenaline rush that had been and—
Sea grass swayed with a breeze. It shifted more than the dune weed should. She knew footsteps approached, and Ella’s toes dug deep into the sand. It wasn’t smart to be out there without a weapon. The second they’d arrived, Ella had dropped her bags and slipped out the door. Neither of her parents had called after her, maybe knowing that she needed to re-center at the edge of the water. Now that she barely came back, she hadn’t thought two seconds about what to do if she stumbled upon some of her old friends, the poachers and pilferers. Though the location was all wrong.
Her stalker couldn’t know where she was now. Right? Fear tickled the back of her throat.
“Sweet pea?” Her mom’s gentle nickname carried on a breeze from a nearby dune.
Relief crawled through her like the ocean gust off the waves. “Hey, Mom.”
She’d gone to a dark place, only serving as a reminder that it was good she was off the grid, trying to secure serenity.
Her mom’s sandy footsteps recalibrated, changing direction under the guidance of a faint flashlight. She stopped at Ella’s side. “Dad and I noticed you were gone longer than the last few times you checked in with us. I wanted to see if you were okay.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I lost track of time.”
Burdening her parents always made her feel as though she was a baby. Starting back when they’d first lost Brie, her parents, particularly her mom, made it their goal to make sure that Ella was fine. There was nothing they could do to lift the guilt. When they’d realized that, it hurt all of them.
Blogging had made her better. Smiling in videos made her mom trust that things were improving. Fake it ‘til you make it. Maybe that idiom had worked, because Ella had become a sunny person again, eventually. She’d climbed out of depression, gained weight back, slept more. There were so many reasons that Ella did what she did with the blog.
“Don’t be sorry.” Her mom clicked off the flashlight and gave her a shoulder hug. “That’s not the reason I trudged down here in the dark.”
“Oh, everything okay?”
“With everything going on, we realize that ditching your phone and not updating Eco-Ella has probably been hard.”
“It’s different, not informing the world of my every move.” She lifted a shoulder, snuggling into her mom, and offered a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m joking.”
“But you haven’t been blogging, and when you’ve had your phone, it…” Her mom leaned in, and together, they let the wind roll over them. “It has not gone unnoticed that you smiled in a way that a mother would want her daughter to smile.”
Heat crawled up her neck and flared into her cheeks. Thank goodness for the cover of the near-moonless night. “I wasn’t smiling long.”
“El, honey. You picked up your phone, you read something, and you smiled. I liked the way you smiled. I haven’t seen that smile in so long.”
Bishop had checked in. Not only had Bishop texted, but he had stopped by to see Manny, following up on her pets—the things that meant something to her, and that made her insides melt.
“What would you say if I met someone?” Ella asked.
Her mom patted her bicep, giving what almost felt like a hopeful squeeze. Only the waves hitting the shores responded, mixing with the sound of nature. It was a lyrical symphony.
Mom took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I would say that whomever this lucky person is, please give him a chance.”
“A chance?”
“Yes, honey, a chance. Work is a good thing. Your father and I both understand that. We wouldn’t have this life if we hadn’t worked hard. But more importantly, we had each other. That is worth so much more than a job.”
She stiffened. “It’s more than a job.”
“It pays the bills. It provides income. It puts a roof over your head. You might love it; it might be your passion, but it’s also work. Nothing wrong with loving your work; just respect what it is.”
“Understood.” Sort of…
“If somebody has you smiling, El, then think about the last time it happened. When was that?”
She didn’t have to guess, and it would be a lie to say that any of her time with Jay had produced any of the same feelings. “It’s Bishop, Mom.”
“Bishop?”
“Yes.”
“Not that there are a lot of Bishops walking around, but are we talking about Bishop O’Kane?”
“The one and the same.”
Mom pulled Ella around face-to-face and put both hands on her shoulders, manicured fingernails pressing into her skin. “Then I think some second chances are meant to be.”
***
Brick lay on the floor, running in his sleep, probably chasing a squirrel. It’d been a good day at GUNS. With Locke’s words in his head, Bishop sat in bed, propped against the backboard with his cell pressed against his ear, because fuck it, texting wasn’t doing the job anymore.
“Hello?” Ella answered groggily.
He should have said good night. Her mumble had been sleepy and soft. “Hey. Just checking on you. Go back to bed.”
“I don’t want to.” Her voice rose, waking. “Don’t hang up.”
His stomach jumped, and fucking hell, he dropped his head back, because when she said that, he was stoked. “Beach treated you well today?”
“Not too bad. I went snorkeling and went to a wildlife preserve.”
“Fun.”
“There’s this place back at home. It’s honestly my favorite place in the world, at Seneca Park. There’s this little hut.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I guess that’s it. It’s just a hut. But it reminded me of here somehow.”
“Nice.”
“Maybe I could show it to you.”
“Sure.”
“Nah, that’s silly, actually. You’d be bored out of your ever-loving mind.”
To this point, none of their excursions had been boring. Even the boring-sounding ones, which were all of them. If it was her favorite place in the world? “Likely won’t be boring. Add it to our to-do list.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “I will.”
“You need to go back to sleep?”
“I… I talked to my mom about you.”
“Oh?” He faltered at the unexpected conversation twist. “Talked, how?”
“Mother’s intuition or something. I don’t know. She wondered if maybe I was… seeing someone? Or interested in someone.”
Ella was work. They hooked up. They had a past. Her parents were the reason Titan had the Eco-Ella job. One phone call from her dad, and his ass was out of a job. But fuck it; he didn’t care. What was her answer? He shifted in his bed, repositioning a pillow behind him. “What did you say?”
Ella didn’t respond. What did that mean? What did he want her to say? Kissing the girl and making her come as though it was his God-given talent was one thing. But seeing someone, seeing him… dating him—that was an entirely different level.
“Ella.”
“I told Mom it was you.”
Whoa. That wasn’t just admitting to someone. That was a different level and then some, the weight of which hit him broadside in the chest. There might be serious repercussions, to which he planned on strenuously defending himself and lobbying to keep his damn job. “Good. Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, babe.”
“Good.”
Goddamn, there was that cute, sleepy voice again. He wanted to hear it while she was plastered against his chest. “How did that go?”
Considering he was the asshole that had walked away from her years ago, there was no telling what her folks thought of him. They were good people. He’d always admired them, even after the time her dad had nearly killed him in high school for getting too serious with Ella. But her dad’s intentions were spot on, and from this vantage point, so many years later, he could absolutely see his perspective.
Fabric swished on the other end of the phone. “You know.”
“No threats of violence?”
“It was never like that.”
“Maybe once or twice.” He laughed. “The way things ended with us before—”
“I don’t want to talk about that,” she said.
“No worries.” Not a conversation he wanted to have either. Considering they were both pros at not tackling important topics, they might never have to talk about their non-breakup where he had walked off the face of the planet.
“My mom said something interesting.”
“And that was?”
“Oh.” Ella giggled in his ear. “It was all said in the secret confines of girl talk. I can’t let you in on specifics.”
“Not fair, babe. You brought it up.”
“Are you curious?”
“Everything about us has me curious.”
“I like that you said us.”
He grunted a non-answer.
She let that hang in the air. “Do you think it’s peculiar? The way we ended up back in the same orbit together when we are so…”
“Complete and total opposites,” he offered.
“Ha! I wouldn’t call it that!”
“Maybe not total and complete. I’m digging those flowy skirts and dresses you’ve got going on. The hippie look suits you.”
“Maxi dresses and my skirts aren’t a hippie look!”
“Looks it to me.”
“More like romantic chic. Beachy boho.”
“Whatever you want to call it, El, you grew out of the T-shirts and mesh shorts that, don’t get me wrong, I used to totally appreciate.”
She laughed. “Shut up.”
“You look good no matter what you wear.”
“Thanks.” She paused. “Bishop, I missed you—and I wish you were here right now.”
“Yeah, babe. I wish I were there too.”
She sighed. “I always missed you…”
Silence ticked the seconds away. Was this the entry she wanted into that conversation about how he’d left her? That was a conversation better had in person. She would cry, damn it. He’d hurt her. But he’d never meant to… never meant to.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later, maybe.”
Maybe. This was where their conversation would be lost. On the battlefield, except this was a phone call, and he didn’t know how to handle it. He couldn’t get a read on the past and didn’t know how to deal with her feelings.
“G’night, Bish—”
“Ella, I missed you too.” Too simple and not enough. “I promise. Everything about you. Every day, I missed you too.”
“Thanks,” she whispered. “I needed to hear that.”
Ella hung up, and who knew if his response had done any good, but hell if it wasn’t the truth.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Jay couldn’t stop watching his clock app as he sat in his car catty-corner to Ella’s building. He tried to play chess on his phone, but all he could do was beat the game or wonder if Bishop would know the difference between chess and checkers. Likely not.
Ella’s flight had to have landed hours ago, and she should have been home. Her vague schedule said she would be home today. The last flights from all the local airports were mostly in. Where was she? And since when did he not get specifics on her travel?
People say the best relationships could make you a better person. Over the years, Ella had pushed him to dig deep. Jay was a better conservationist for the cause, a better evangelist for the environment, and now he was more focused, more logical, more studious. All because of Ella.
Growth wasn’t easy, though. The more she tested him, the more he had to remember what was important. Them.
Jay snorted. One more minute had dragged by and—was that Bishop’s truck?
Did Ella have that Neanderthal in his gas-guzzling behemoth pick her up from the airport? What, she was too good for the metro or rideshare now?
He leaned closer, his ears aching to hear through the two vehicles’ steel frames. What was happening? They just sat there! Idling! Ella idled? In what world did she allow fumes to pour from a tailpipe?
Pounding tension crept down his neck, cramping his shoulders. The Bishop situation had gone on long enough. For crying out loud, Jay would call her father tomorrow and explain that he would be personally responsible for Ella’s security and safety.
No one would get to her! No stalker!
Of course,
there would be no stalker. He was the man behind the confusion. Why did it feel as though they were two different people?
Jay rubbed his temples. This mass hysteria was his creation. There was not another person to actually protect her from. Think. Remember.
Titan could go to hell, and Bishop could disappear to the fringes of everything that Jay and Ella hated.
But still, that truck idled. Its red taillights mocked him. “She hates you!”
But shouting did no good when the truck didn’t move.
Helpless rage made Jay nauseated. The passenger door opened, and Ella slid into view. Ah, there she was. He could breathe better now. The streetlights cast an amber hue, but despite the orange glare, she radiated.
Jay wrung his hands on the steering wheel, happy to have her close again. “Happy to be home?”
Wait. The taillights went out. Had the truck shifted into Park? Because Bishop wasn’t pulling away. Jay’s stomach churned and—what the… Jay growled. Bishop got out.
Okay, it was just to remove her luggage. That was okay. He could handle that.
Maybe.
Maybe not. Because Bishop didn’t head back for the driver’s door.
Jealousy scored through his body as Bishop moved the bags to the sidewalk but didn’t let go. “Leave!”
Jay wondered if Bishop had a gun holstered on his side, and wild, wonderful fantasies danced. The different places that Jay could place a bullet. Different things he could say to Bishop before ending the problems that had cropped up with Ella recently.
In all of the years that Jay and Ella had teamed up, together they had outmaneuvered protesters, outsmarted poachers, and outplayed corporate assholes. This one man had become more dangerous than all of those other encounters.
Bishop put his arm around Ella.
“No!” Jay growled. “She’s mine!”
Neither turned around, and Ella didn’t flinch at Bishop’s touch. Far away, across the busy street, Jay pushed out of his car, choking on the stale air and desperation. Hours of waiting, for this? No. He stalked several cars closer, obsessing over Bishop’s hand on her back.
A sliver of space separated Bishop and Ella. Finally. Jay took a ragged lungful, gasping in relief as sweat trickled from his hairline. Exhausted, he propped against a stranger’s car, watching from a perch on the street as they disappeared into her building.
Bishop's Queen Page 20
