“Byrd didn’t say that,” Cash pointed out.
Roman raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t not say that.”
“It’s either the crazies—” Nic volunteered.
“Or the ex-boyfriend,” Beth finished.
“My money is on the ex-boyfriend,” Bishop volunteered. “Dude’s a gallon short of a full tank.”
Rocco gave Bishop a hyper-questioning look.
Screw that. Bishop’s certainty wasn’t based on his past with Ella. Even if the FBI agent had said that Jay’s schedule was solid and his alibi airtight, Bishop’s gut said that was bullshit.
“The guy is possessive; that’s for sure.” Locke eased their team leader off Bishop a bit.
Roman leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “Maybe if the cops took her seriously from the start…”
Around the room, everyone nodded.
“We don’t deal in coulda, woulda bullshit.” Jared cracked a knuckle. “We deal with problems.”
It wasn’t as if Titan wouldn’t continue the protective detail. “We keep at her side,” Bishop said.
Jax laughed. “Bet you’d like that, huh?”
Bishop’s gaze swung to the asshole across the room. “What the fuck is your problem? Lay off the woman.”
“Chill out,” Rocco ordered.
Jared’s ice-cold glare brought the room down a dozen degrees. “Rocco.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your thoughts?” Boss Man asked.
“They are no closer to figuring out how to end this than they were when we first made contact. We agree with everything they explained: the situation is spiraling. It’s becoming more chaotic.”
Spiraling chaos. That upped Bishop’s anxiety. He rolled his lip into his mouth, having nothing to offer to the conversation and hating that fact.
Jared’s jaw flexed. “Parker is working everything he has to augment their data.”
That should have helped alleviate some stress, but it didn’t.
Jared rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s a matter of time. Mistakes will be made. They’ll figure it out.”
“I think they know,” Beth said. “I think they don’t have shit for evidence, but like Jared said when she left, they aren’t telling us. That was a woman who gave us everything she could show us except for what she couldn’t.”
Boss Man nodded.
“Bishop has a feeling,” Beth continued. “Locke noticed something. We heard the profiles of Jay and Tara, both who give me the heebie-jeebies.” Beth paused. “That agent doesn’t know us from anyone else. But she does know we’re going to sit here and tear apart what she says the second she leaves.” Beth pointed her finger around the room. “Like hell would she tell you guys what her gut says, when not one of you asked her about it.”
Bishop raised an eyebrow. No, they hadn’t.
“We remain the course,” Jared grumbled.
Then his intense glower rested on Bishop. “We’re still loyal to the job, to her, to her family for however long this takes. This is our new normal. Bishop, Locke, you’re still primaries. But depending on how this shit show continues to roll, consider yourselves all her white knights, dead set on ensuring her long-term survival. Understood?”
“The Knights of Titan,” Cash murmured.
Good thing Cash could drop humor when it was most needed because Bishop wasn’t sure how much more of Jared assessing him he could take while staying quiet.
“It’s the boyfriend,” Beth said.
“Or that batshit crazy publicist,” Winters countered.
“Doesn’t matter. Don’t care.” Jared stood up. “Keep our woman safe. Do what it takes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Losing Jay from the team was a nightmare. Not because Ella missed him, but because he did a lot of work with content, running with ideas, and controlling hers. Right now, she had a thousand ideas and was running short on time for her project. Her anxiety was at an all-time high, and it wasn’t even past breakfast time.
“Bishop’s about to swing up here,” Locke said. “I’m headed out.”
“Thanks for pulling an overnight guard duty. I know there’s a thousand things more fun than patrolling my front door and couch.” She liked him. Sometimes, Locke said a lot when he said nothing at all. “I made fresh, non-wheatgrass smoothies, if you didn’t notice me take tons of pictures to post later.”
“No big deal, and”—he laughed—“I did notice. Very red-looking.”
“I’m going to be insulted if you don’t try one sometime soon.” The door opened, and Bishop walked in, accompanying Manny. “Hey, guys!” She turned back to Locke. “Now you’re off the clock. Go try one.”
“Working didn’t keep me from trying one, Ella.”
Having chosen the pictures she wanted to post and rereading the recipe, she tossed her phone on the counter. “Now I’m insulted.”
Locke’s eyes widened a fraction, and dang it, he was too nice to screw with. That she would leave for Bishop. “Kidding. Kidding.”
He smiled, which didn’t happen nearly often enough. “All right, I’ll try one.”
Ella beamed that finally she had worn him down. Bishop was next on her list, though her goal was to get him to drink something with wheatgrass in it. That would be considered a trophy-win.
“Hey, El.”
Two words, one reaction. Swoony-smiley. That was how Bishop made her feel when he turned his green eyes on her. “Hi.”
Locke spun toward her blender and poured the strawberry power blast into a glass as she picked her phone back up and scheduled it to go live later.
He stirred the cup. “Smoothies of champions.”
“Cheers.” She prayed he would love it. Surely he would. Right? Who in their right mind wouldn’t?
“Ella!” Manny pointed his thumb. “So me and Muscles—”
Bishop glared. “Excuse me?”
“What? If she can call you that, why can’t I?”
Locke choked on his smoothie, laughing, covering his mouth, and heading for the sink.
Bishop’s eyebrows almost hit his hair. “Muscles?”
“What?” Her cheeks were on fire. “You’ve heard me say that before.”
He glowered. “I didn’t know this was a common thing.”
Locke howled in laughter, not that he was finished choking on her smoothie, which he had spit in the sink, dang it.
Manny tried to help. “Oh, come on. You’ve got big muscles. What other nicknames should we call you?”
Locke rejoined the conversation, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, still chortling. “Yeah, Muscles.”
“Screw you.” Bishop shook his head, trying not to laugh, but Ella could see that he could at least appreciate the entertainment value.
“He calls you Crazy,” Locke offered.
“Still?” Ella sobered. “That’s not fair. Or nice. At least Muscles is nice.”
“And true,” Manny said. “Ella’s not crazy.”
“She’s had a few moments, Manny.” Bishop clapped as though he were done and signifying that everyone else should be too. “What’s on the agenda today?”
“I’m not crazy.”
“She’s passionate,” Locke offered.
“Unorthodox,” Manny added.
Ella smiled. “I’ll take those.”
He smiled and winked. “They’re not as fun to call you.”
“O-M-G, Bishop, please,” Manny begged and fanned himself. “God, have mercy.”
“I can’t handle this shit.” Locke laughed. “I’m out, folks.”
“You didn’t finish the smoothie!”
“Well, I—it was good.”
“Make a to-go cup,” Ella ordered.
“Definitely good enough that I’ll do that.”
“Thank you.” She pointed at Bishop. “You should take notes, Muscles. He’s better at this than you.”
“Crazy, your nickname’s going to morph into batshit if you’re not too careful.”
God, she hadn�
�t laughed and had fun like this in so long. Just relaxed and—an idea sprang to mind. “Manny, want to do a video with me?”
He could do the bees-and-herb vlog with her. Then she could get it all finished and be done with it. In production, she could chop it up and make it into several short vlogs, maybe a webinar or something. Tara could work with that.
“Are you joking?” Manny’s mouth hung open. It was a big task. Manny touted to everyone and anyone that he was personal assistant to the stars and an Eco-Ella super fan, but this was way more than that. His head bobbed, accepting before he even knew what the task would incorporate.
“You know that gorgeous park over in Seneca?” She pulled the pieces together on the fly, turning to Bishop. “Where we were the other day?”
“Um, yes,” Manny answered for him. “Your favorite spot in the whole world.”
“Not the hut, but the park, that big hill.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah!”
What a beautiful treescape that would make in the background. “We could set up a tripod and just talk. Do a few candids into the phone. I want to wrap the lavender and mint project up and pimp the urban beekeepers. It’s such a good thing, but I’m losing the focus right now.”
“I love what you’re doing with that, though,” Manny gushed.
“Which is why you’re the perfect guy to help me.”
“Ella, I would be so honored,” he prattled. “I will do everything. I’ve always wanted to be your helper bee. No pun intended. Yes, pun intended! Oh, my gosh, I’m going to die.”
“Sweet! We’ll go do that today. That’s our to-do list.” She tilted her head to Bishop, questioning if he was onboard.
“Nice.” Locke nodded. “Seneca is gorgeous.”
“You should join us.” Manny clapped. “Like a big team event. It’s my first on-air production.”
“I gathered,” Locke added, letting Manny have his moment.
“He’s off work,” Ella explained.
Manny rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to hang out with us.”
“I think it does.” Not putting Locke in a super-awkward spot would be awesome. “He probably has other people to save and protect.”
“Eh.” Locke shrugged. “I’d be down to see what you guys do.”
“Yes.” Manny put his hand in the air, searching for a high five from Locke. “You will love this.”
“Or not.” Ella worried that Locke had been guilt-tripped into a yes, and that Manny was maybe idealizing this more than he should. “It’ll be a little boring. We’ll map out what we’ll say, shoot the video, probably have a few bloopers. It’ll be cool—”
“Nothing with Muscles and ol’ Locke and Key over there will be boring.”
Shit. Her cheeks flared again.
Bishop tilted his head. “Lock and Key?”
Manny nodded. “You know, for the strong silent type.”
“I like it.” Locke slapped Manny five.
“How often do you two talk about us?” Bishop’s inquisitive look bounced between her and Manny.
“Never,” she said.
“All the time,” Manny countered simultaneously and giggled as though he wanted the nickname Crazy. “You two are the best thing to come along since the camera crew for Under the Roof.”
***
An hour later, Bishop and Locke were posted on the side of a steep hill, far enough away that Ella felt confident their voices would not be picked up by her video recording. Whatever supersonic speakers she had on her audio set were a bit much, but far be it for him to question the process. At the base of Seneca Park’s longest hill, the woman was on a mission with a tripod, a boom speaker, and two video recorders for different angles. And apparently, it required a significant amount of distance, as he and Locke watched from afar.
“Boring,” Locke said.
“Yup,” Bishop agreed.
“I like it here, though. Good to get out of the condo and into fresh air.”
“Amen.” Bishop thought her place made him feel like sardines packed into a tiny container, especially when the four of them had been standing in her living room.
Manny had driven his van, which apparently was outfitted with everything FB and LK could dream about needing—food, water, snacks, poop bags. Who knew pets needed so much? Brick didn’t need shit. When he was home, Bishop let his dog run around outside then threw some scoops of chow in a bowl and filled up another bowl with tap water. When he couldn’t get home, Bishop’s neighbor did what he would’ve done on his behalf. There was never a plan, certainly not a van stocked full of necessities.
Locke and Bishop had driven separately, Ella with him, and their vehicles were lined up in the lot on top of the hill. Somehow, all this had happened without much of a carbon footprint lecture.
The gray sky was scattered with angry clouds.
Locke tore at a piece of grass, and Bishop watched a trail of ants on the bench that they’d kicked back on, choosing to rest with their boots on the seat. They both leaned forward, elbows on knees, watching Ella and Manny gesticulate, smile, and laugh. They would hold up the plants and pass them back and forth.
“Man, they are super into it,” Bishop muttered.
“Yup.” Locke reached down, tearing out another long piece of grass, and went to splitting it.
Watching Ella work, while not riveting, was pretty cool. Just as cool as the bikini video from Costa Rica, because her passion bled through even from over here.
Manny and Ella donned headsets, sitting on the ground, pointing back and forth between the screen and something, almost as if they were disagreeing, or maybe searching for something on screen. Who knew? They were into it in a major way.
“I don’t get it,” Locke said. “Have you ever been that excited about anything in your life?”
Maybe about getting her back into bed again soon. “Nothing that I’d share with you.”
Locke laughed. “Right.”
Bishop rubbed his face. When she had come home, he’d spent all night with her. Every minute of that time had been spent wide-awake, reminding her that she had been missed.
Something moved in his peripheral. He turned as Locke did too.
“What the hell?” Bishop jumped up, and Locke muttered the same as he bound up also.
Manny’s van moved in the parking lot at the top of the hill. Slowly at first. Enough that both he and Locke stared, stupefied. Then the slow roll turned into a rush. The hill was steep, and Ella and Manny sat in the van’s path with their backs to it, staring at a screen and wearing big fuzzy headphones.
Bishop and Locke sprinted forward. Bishop’s mind was racing. “Ella!”
“Who’s in there?” Locke shouted.
Bishop’s eyes narrowed, but the angle made the windshield hard to see. “No one!”
He veered toward Ella and Manny, who were still oblivious. “Move!”
Neither did. What were those fucking headphones? Noise cancelling? How loud was their audio?
“Go,” Locke shouted, but Bishop was already pivoting downhill. Locke angled toward the van as it gained speed. What was Locke going to do? Climb in and divert?
“Ella!” Bishop charged down the hill, arms pumping and thighs burning as he hollered for them to look up. How did Ella not see the commotion in her peripheral? That screen in their laps—they were glued to it. “Manny, move!”
But they were too far away. Fuck it. Two choices: get them out of the way or make them move. He pulled out his sidearm and fired into the air. Ella and Manny startled and spun, seeing the van.
They froze. Fuck it. They froze.
Flight or fright, and those two chose the wrong fucking thing to do.
“No!” Bishop powered as fast as he could. “Move! Move, now!”
His heart was in his chest. His lungs pounded. He couldn’t run any faster. Locke stopped short out of the corner of Bishop’s eye. His teammate had his gun in hand and—bam, bam, blast—the back tire blew out, trajectory and speed on
ly slightly altered and not enough.
That shocked Ella to stand up, but Manny didn’t. She clung to him, was right by his side, both of them shouting and yelling.
These had been the longest seconds of Bishop’s life, and the last two were an eternity. Bishop wanted to scream, “leave him,” but neither he nor she would.
Bishop threw his arms out, praying to God, and dove for them. He caught Ella by the waist, twisting and spinning, throwing her out of the way, grabbing Manny by the shoulder, and—slam.
Bishop went down. Cold metal hit him like a football team clad in armor. He spun, losing his grip. Losing himself. His face hit the ground, dirt and grass in his mouth. When he realized where he was, he opened his fists—and his hands were empty.
Rolling over—hell, that hurt—his head spun.
“Don’t move,” Locke said from somewhere to somebody.
His elbow reached behind him, pushing up, and a splitting headache made the skyline tilt sideways. “Eloise—Ella?”
“Stay down, Bishop,” Locke ordered.
No, thank you. Fucking hell. His head spun, and his stomach roiled. Where was she?
Hands cupped his face. “Bishop? Are you okay?”
Relief rolled through his confused mind. “Yes.” Thank fuck. He dropped back, needing to catch his breath. Now he could stay down. Now… Panting, he just needed to know she was fine.
“Promise me!” Ella demanded.
“Yes, babe. I promise.” Bishop wheezed, catching the breath that had been punted out of him by a van grill. “Give me a minute.”
Squeezing his eyes shut once more, all he could remember was Ella’s scared face the microsecond before the impact. All he could see was his world coming to an end as terror screamed in her eyes and her mouth gaped silent.
Bishop blinked away that nightmare, and she was gone when he opened his eyes again. Ignoring the soreness around his ribs and hip, he gritted his teeth and propped on an elbow to push up. Ella and Locke were perched next to Manny.
Shit.
“Locke, help him,” Ella said.
“I—uh,” Manny sputtered. “Oww.”
Manny’s eyes were closed, and Locke stood with his phone to his ear. “We need an ambulance.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he explained and gave their location.
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