Tilly.
Bishop’s body grew rock hard just thinking her name.
Annnnd then his stomach roiled because he remembered what Valor said to him just before he stumbled up the stairs and hit the bed. Bishop had almost taken her home. He almost took that beautiful creature home and fucked her to the point where she wouldn’t have been able to walk for weeks. He could have hurt her. He could have—
No, he wouldn’t have gone so far as to rape her. No matter what condition Bishop was in, he still had some sanity left. He wouldn’t have forced himself on her. Wait… would he have? Fuck, the threat was there, lingering in the back of his mind. No, he wouldn’t have… unless he went over the deep end and lost all control.
Shit, Valor was right. Bishop could have been a threat to Tilly the other night. Whether he would have stayed strong or not didn’t matter.
“Christ on a cracker,” he leaned against his dresser and scrubbed his face again. “That was too fucking close. Never again. Never again am I going to let myself get that fucking bad.”
He’d made that promise before though, hadn’t he?
Bishop looked around for a pair of jeans to wear. Everything he owned was scattered all over the floor in piles of dirty, dirtier, and dirtiest. He needed to do laundry. He needed to get his shit together. He needed a goddamn drink.
Scooping up as many clothes as he could, Bishop marched down the hall to the laundry room and started a load of darks. All he ever wore was dark clothes because it hid the stains from the sticky substance malanum bled.
Once he got the washer running, Bishop headed back into his room to clean up. He couldn’t wait to scrub six layers of skin off and be sanitized with scorching hot water. With the door kept ajar – because he couldn’t stand to be shut in – Bishop started the shower.
Precisely one hour later, he was clean, shaven, and ready to rock and roll. He switched the clothes and went back into his bedroom to wait. He had about an hour before the clothes would be dry. What could he do to kill some time? Get something to eat. Food was fuel.
With a towel wrapped around his waist, the Hound padded barefoot down to the kitchen. Valor was in his office with the door closed, so Bishop kept right on walking. He looked around the kitchen like he was lost. Marching over to the fridge, he opened the door and peered inside.
Damnit. There was nothing in here he wanted to eat. Annoyed, he grabbed an apple and bit down. It was something in his stomach and he didn’t have to cook it, which was good enough for now. Next, he snagged a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. Chugging, he went for two more refills then put his glass in the sink and snatched a package of flaxseed crackers from the cupboard. Seriously? Flaxseed? Who the fuck buys this shit?
His keen Hell Hound hearing let him know that the buzzer just went off on the dryer. He ran upstairs and quickly got dressed. The clothes were still warm. Ahhh, small delights. Bishop went back into his room to grab some blades, a gun, and a few more items. While stuffing his pockets, he looked down at the folded piece of paper on his nightstand.
Tilly’s address.
His heart lost its normal rhythm for a second just thinking about going to her house. Wait, was he going to go there? Valor said to get to know her better, but there was something super creepy and fucked up about knocking on a woman’s door like that. He’d just have to make himself bump into her on the street somehow.
Ugh, he was a creeper no matter what.
Stuffing on his boots and snatching his keys from the dresser, Bishop’s excitement kicked up a notch. He had to move, because sitting still wasn’t an option. Regaining some balance meant he was firing on all pistons like the wild Hell Hound he was born to be. Bishop rushed down the steps and knocked on Valor’s office door before peeking his head in, “I’m heading out.”
Valor sat behind his desk, his head buried in his hands. He didn’t even bother to look up, “Alright.”
Bishop quietly closed the door and left his Alpha alone. The two of them were so close with some things, and incredibly distant with others. He loved Valor, loved his pack, loved his life… but after what transpired when Bishop was possessed, things fell apart quickly.
They needed to find Baz and D. The sooner their pack was back together, the sooner they could put the past behind them. Valor looked like total shit. Bishop felt like total shit for it.
He opened the front door and froze when his alpha called out to him. Val stepped out of his office. Shit, he looked fucking terrible. His dark red hair was a mess, like he’d been running his hands through it over and over. “I’m going hunting,” Valor announced.
“Me too.”
Neither of them could sit still for long.
Valor swiped a hand across his mouth and sighed, “Keep your cell on ye and make sure it’s charged. Call if ye need me, alright?”
“Yes, Alpha.”
“Hey,” Val walked over and put his hand on Bishop’s shoulder, “We’ll find them. We’ll not give up until we do. But we canna unravel in the process.”
Bishop nodded once and turned to leave. He hopped into his truck and took off down the road to head into the city. Noise would be good. People. Places. Lots of hustle and bustle. He cranked up the volume on his radio and wound down his windows so the cool air would soothe his hot skin.
Too bad nothing would soothe his aching heart.
Tilly threw a pity party for herself. She sat on the roof of her building, wine in hand, and a hunk of cheese in the other. Her little portable speaker kept her company with songs from all her favorite bands. She’d called Vivian earlier to wish her a happy birthday and they’d been texting back and forth all day. It was almost like they were spending the day together, but not really.
It was okay. This gap between them was necessary. In the back of Tilly’s head, some little morbid voice reminded her that to have attachments was a no, no. She should really start making the moves to disconnect anyway. They say women have biological clocks that tick. Tilly didn’t have that. As a matter of fact, Tilly would never have children, she made sure of it by having her tubes tied when she was twenty-two. But Tilly had a clock of another kind ticking in her. A time bomb.
She took a long sip of her wine. This was a good vintage, it was from her father’s collection. After he died, Tilly and Vivian split up the properties, sold most of the assets including the boats, the home in Venice, the chalet in Aspen, and the condo in Palm Springs. The cars, artwork, and jewels went too. The last house up for sale was the one in Annapolis. It was their childhood home, which was why they’d saved it for last. All they kept were a couple pieces of jewelry, a storage room full of antiques to sell later, and the wine.
No one tosses wine on Tilly’s watch.
So now, here she was, sitting back with the cold evening breeze blowing her hair around her face. She didn’t even have a chair, not that she could sit very well anyway with her ass as sore as it was. From the tattoo to the bruises, she was a hot mess back there.
No matter, a few more glasses of this red wine and she wouldn’t feel a damned thing. She took another sip. Fuck this was good. She took two more. Mmmm.
Tilly checked her emails on her phone. There was an alert that one of her favorite bands was playing at The Blue Lizard next month. Shit, she took another swig. “I can’t believe I failed my number six.” Tilly talked to herself all the time. Answered herself, too. “You’re such an asshole. Why didn’t you just go for it? You already looked like an idiot for falling, you couldn’t have looked any worse on stage.”
She walked around the roof, pacing in a circle. She tossed her phone onto her blanket and swayed to the music playing on her little speaker. It was a beautifully sad slow song. Tilly’s limbs stretched and bent, she was all straight lines and easy movements – just like how she’d been taught long ago. When the song ended, she walked over to the edge of the roof and peered down.
She could jump. She could end it all right now and fucking jump. Tilly closed her eyes and imagined it. She
would turn around, face the sky, and fall back with her middle fingers up for whoever had cursed her and her family.
A gust of wind blew and she nearly lost her balance. With a yip, she rocked forward and stumbled back onto the roof. Her heart slammed into her chest and she half-cried, half-laughed.
Then she started to ugly cry.
Stupid wine, lowering her inhibitions and making her a big baby. Tilly shook off her sadness and rounded her shoulders. She wasn’t going to die yet. Not until her bucket list was complete, at least.
She closed her eyes and imagined being on stage. She imagined the crowds watching her, sipping their drinks from plastic cups and singing along with her. Then she imagined Bishop standing in the middle of the crowd, his eyes burning with a heat so bright they glowed.
Joy bubbled up and out of Tilly with the image. She tilted her head back and howled. Then she laughed and howled even louder. Damn did that feel good. She did it a third time, even louder, then rocked back laughing and hit her head on the rooftop.
As she lay there cracking up at herself, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end...
A howl answered her.
What the fuck? Tilly slowly turned towards her bottle of wine and eyed it suspiciously. That’s it, she’s cut off. Once you start hearing things, it’s time to quit.
Another howl echoed in the night. This one was louder… closer… A shiver ran down her body and she got goosebumps. Carefully, Tilly crawled to the ledge of the rooftop again. There weren’t wolves in Baltimore, right? That would be crazy. But, it was definitely an animal that responded to her. Holy fucking shit, what the hell was in that wine?
Tilly leaned over the ledge and peered down.
Her heart slammed into her chest again. “No fucking way.” The air rushed out of her and she scrambled back.
Bishop was here.
Chapter 9
What’s the fastest way to sex Bishop up? Howl. Howl like you own the motherfucking moon.
He hadn’t planned to go to her house. Hand-to-God, he had no idea how he even got there. Bishop went into the city with the intention of hunting. Next thing he knew, he was parking on a side street and walking towards the address written on the piece of paper he clutched in his hand.
He tried to talk himself out of it. Tried to convince his body to stop and head in the opposite direction.
Then she howled. It was so glorious it could make the Angels weep.
At first he thought it was his overactive imagination. Then it happened again and his pace quickened down the street towards that beautiful sound. The third one had him so fired up he automatically responded with a howl of his own.
When he reached her building, Bishop looked up and saw the crown of her strawberry blonde hair peeking over the ledge of the roof. For an instant he freaked out, scared she might fall. That fear was dashed away once she disappeared from sight again.
Bishop didn’t bother going into the building and taking the fire escape to get to her. Fuck that. He used his Hell Hound powers and scaled the side of the building, reaching the rooftop in record time. He stood behind Tilly and smiled. His dick was rock hard. He growled low in his throat, an automatic response when he saw something he liked.
Tilly turned her head. Their gazes locked. Her breath hitched and he growled again.
“How did you get up here?”
“Climbed. You?”
“I…” she shook her head like she was trying to clear it. “I’m drunk. I’m so drunk right now I’ve gone and hallucinated the guy at The Blue Lizard. Jesus, Tilly, you really are a piece of work. You are soooo cut off.”
Bishop’s eyebrow arched as he watched her take the wine bottle and dump the rest out. There wasn’t much left, which meant she had nearly a whole bottle in her system at the moment. For a Hound that was nothing, but for a human, it could mean she was buzzed or smashed. He’d find out in a moment which category she was in.
Bishop took a step closer. Then another.
“Holy crap. You’re actually coming closer. And you’re…” her eyes widened. “Gorgeous. Well done Tilly, your imagination is seriously on point tonight.”
He chuckled at how she talked to herself. He did the same thing all the time. “So I’m a hallucination, huh?”
“A damn fine drunken fantasy, that’s what you are buddy,” Tilly grabbed her glass, which still had a little bit of wine left in it, and she toasted him before downing the last drop.
He took another step closer.
“You’re not wearing what you had on the other night though. I must be picking you out new outfits. The shirt suits you.”
Bishop grinned. The shirt was a run of the mill t-shirt. Black, of course.
Tilly took another sip of her drink and frowned because her glass was empty. “Fuck. I’m all out. How am I gonna keep this fantasy going without the wine? Why the hell did I waste what was left! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”
Bishop closed the gap between them. “How about you let me take care of your fantasies?” He wrapped his arm around her waist and held the nape of her neck, massaging it.
“Oh… My…. God.” Tilly giggled, “I am sooo good at this.”
“Bet I can make it better,” Bishop slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her senseless before she could say another word.
Satan’s beasts, this woman tasted like sex and sin and cabernet sauvignon. With a growl, Bishop braced his body and deepened the kiss as he held her tighter. His tongue swept inside her mouth, tasting her, drinking her in. His entire soul ignited into a five-alarm blaze. When she moaned against him and met his kiss with fervor, it rocked him to the core.
Bishop spun her around, marching the two of them towards the fire escape door while he kept the kiss going. She went right along with him, happily. Tilly broke away from him long enough to say, “I’m on the top floor,” before crushing her mouth to his again. Then she pulled away again to say, “I don’t even know why I just told you that, you’re not even real. Fuck, Tilly, shut up!” she went whole hog and kissed him harder.
He knew which apartment was hers, but he’d play innocent to get her there easily. Bishop guided her inside. With her lips still locked on his, Tilly slammed her back into her apartment door and fumbled with the doorknob. “It’s fucking locked!”
He took a step away and debated on smashing the door down. That wouldn’t do, though. He needed to behave if he wanted to get in.
“Hang on!” Tilly slithered out of his hold and tumbled forward, half-drunk, half-giggling, and ran back towards the exit door again. With a loud squeak it opened, then slammed shut. Standing in the hallway, Bishop’s heartrate kicked up a notch. Breathing calmly, he stood in front of her apartment door, his body rigid, hands fisted, and waited. There was a shick, click, shnuck, and her door flew open. “You’re still here!” Her smile was gigantic and her cheeks were flushed.
Bishop walked in and surveyed her space.
It was so… small. She lived in a studio apartment and there wasn’t much to it at all. A bed, a futon for a couch, a tiny kitchenette, a small flat screen hung on the wall and there was a bathroom. She lived in a goddamn shoe box.
The sound of the door shutting behind him caused Bishop’s body to stiffen again. He quickly went over to a window, fumbled with the lock, and opened it.
He needed an escape. He couldn’t be closed in anywhere. When he drove, the window was down, when he slept, the door was open at the very least. Sometimes he just slept outside.
“Bishop?” He turned at the sound of his name on her tongue. She wasn’t the hot hellcat she’d been just moments ago, now she looked like a scared kitten. “You’re… this is real, isn’t it? I’m not drunk, am I?” She lost some of the color in her cheeks.
“I’m real. And I’m here.” He slowly moved towards her, “but you’re probably still a little drunk. How much wine did you have?”
She bit her lip and her eyebrows knit together. “Not enough to make me reckless.”
He laughed.
Bishop cocked his head to the side and tugged the lapels of his jacket, “You mind if I take this off?”
“Uh, no?”
He shrugged out of his leather coat, carefully placing it on the futon.
“Why are you here?”
“You howled, didn’t you?” It was the only answer he could give that didn’t make him sound like a creeper, because saying Well, my alpha has a crazy weird feeling about you and asked me to tail you for a while, so he gave me your address, really wasn’t going to score him brownie points. Besides, she did howl. And whether he knew where she lived or not, if he was within earshot of her howl, he’d have come running regardless.
Tilly swiped under her eyes, instantly fixing her smudged mascara. Jesus, her eyes were incredible. Green as clover and sparkling bright. Bishop felt like he could stare into them for days… weeks… forever.
Yeahhh. No. What the fuck. Bishop cleared his throat. “I was heading out to see a friend and heard a lovely howl.” He smiled when her cheeks turned red. “Imagine my surprise when I look up and see you staring down at me. I thought you saw me, recognized me from the other night and that’s why you did it.” Not a lie. Just not exactly the truth. He got a little closer to her, “You did howl, right, Matilda Jane?”
“Tilly,” she whispered, “Just… Tilly. And yeah, I… I howled.”
The vibes in the apartment shifted a little. Bishop couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Suddenly, they were staring at each other with a lot of unexpected vulnerability. She was hurting, he could see it. Not that he had any right to pry into her personal business, but he wanted to know what was wrong. That’s twice now, that they’d met and she wasn’t her happiest.
Hard to Find (Hell Hounds Harem Book 4) Page 6
