Bishop

by A. E. Via

  “So he got a cheap shot in.” Trent pfft’d. “So what.”

  “‘So what’? He played me for a goddamn fool, man, don’t you see that? And I fell for it… like a goddamn idiot!”

  “Hey!” Trent yelled.

  Bishop put his hand up, stopping Trent’s usual speech. His stomach rolled and he felt bile rise in his throat, making him want to gag. His best friend and Mike were the only two people he could be real with and if he didn’t let this out, he knew it’d drive him insane all night. “I fell for it… because he’s smarter than me, Trent.”

  “Ugh,” Trent growled. “He is not. The only reason he one-upped you this time is because you weren’t paying attention. Edison has your fucking nose wide open, man. That’s all. Now you know what’s up. And we’ll be ready for his sneaky ass next time.”

  Bishop shook his head. “I always knew what was up. I caught that asshole’s scent a month ago and I did nothing about it, Trent. I saw how he treated Edison, and the way he looked at him. But I thought what I had to give Eddie was enough.” Bishop had damn near broke his back working two jobs, his day job and then putting in hours each night on Edison’s backyard. He was almost done, but he guessed he hadn’t been quick enough. Or maybe his grand design wasn’t as spectacular as he thought because Skylar appeared to have done a fantastic job with his appreciative gesture. The tie suited his boyfriend perfectly. Bishop clenched his aching fists against his thighs, his voice sounding dry and brittle to his own ears. “I felt so damn stupid standing there, T.”

  “Look Bishop. I’ll admit… that was some foul-ass-underhanded-dick-headed-trickery that that Skylar-bitch pulled on you, but it looked like he also did it to Edison.”

  Bishop turned his head away from the window, staring at the side of Trent’s face. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean. Edison looked clueless. I don’t know why he took the tie and put it on but… I ain’t never seen a guy look that damn sad, man. I don’t even think Edison knows Skylar’s making a play for him. Or maybe Skylar doesn’t want your boyfriend, and just can’t stand you because some men are just fucking haters.”

  Bishop scoffed. “Oh no. He definitely wants Edison. The way he taunts him, teases him, fucks with him, is all classic bullshit that closeted guys do. He’d love to have Edison to work out his inner issues on.”

  “Then why’d you leave Edison standing there alone?”

  Bishop swallowed roughly. “I told you already.”

  Trent pulled the truck into their driveway and put it in park.

  “I felt like a fucking fool.”

  ~

  Edison

  Edison came to a screeching stop in his driveway. He knew Bishop’s truck wouldn’t be there, but he’d been praying it would. He gathered his things and hurried inside with his cell phone in one hand which he kept checking for missed calls. Edison shoved his jacket off and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, then sat at the breakfast bar. He didn’t bother going around the house opening the windows, he didn’t turn on any lights or soft music. He didn’t even bother going to his bedroom to change out of his suit and freshen up. He just needed to take a few moments to calm down first. He knew he could fix this. He and Bishop had had a misunderstanding, that was all.

  Edison drank half his bottle down, his throat feeling like he’d been chewing on straw all day. He glanced around his home, the solitude and loneliness already trying to swallow him whole as he thought about Bishop and the fact he was supposed to be in his shower right now. He still can be. Edison picked up his phone and called him. He held his breath until he damn near passed out. It didn’t cross his mind that Bishop wouldn’t pick up. He always answered… always. He hated texting. Never had he not answered Edison’s call, no matter the time. Edison’s hand shook when the automated voice mail message began to play in his ear. He set the phone down on the counter wondering what the hell he’d done.

  He sat there until his ass started to go numb. He didn’t know how long he’d been staring out of the patio doors at his beautiful backyard that was already looking like the drawings Bishop had shown him. There were stacks of cinderblocks along the fence that’d been delivered for the inlaid grilling station. Besides unwrapping the new patio set, hooking up the fire pit and stringing the overhead lights, Bishop was almost done. It was so beautiful. His man was beautiful.

  God, he wanted Bishop there with him, he needed his touch, needed to hear his voice. Dangit, he wanted to read to him while he was held tightly in strong arms and kissed all over the back of his neck. Edison’s eyes watered. Had he lost all of that already? He’d barely had a chance to enjoy it. No, he wouldn’t accept that. Edison called again. He chewed on his jaw as the rings continued until it went to voicemail once again. Shoot. Was Bishop trying to figure out a way to tell him it was over?

  “Please just answer, Bishop. Please.” Edison rubbed his palm over his dry lips. He dialed for what felt like the tenth time and when the voice mail picked up, he left a message. He had to clear his throat a couple of times before his words sounded half-way intelligible. “Um. I was just calling to explain about what happened. I hope you’re not real mad.” Edison rolled his eyes. That was dumb. Of course, Bishop was mad, if he wasn’t then he’d be there. God what could he say? He should’ve practiced first. “Not… I mean, I know you’re mad, but…” Edison’s voice cracked. “I’m really sorry. But, I can explain if you just come over. Can you answer when I—”

  The voicemail cut him off before he could finish. “Dangit!” Edison yelled, ending the call. He pushed his thumbs into his eye sockets, trying to relieve the tension building behind them. He was so exhausted he could hardly see straight. Which didn’t much matter because he’d been sitting his dark kitchen for hours. He’d waited and waited for a call back from Bishop but it never came.

  His stomach began to growl around nine o’clock and he knew he needed to do something besides sit there in silence to take his mind off the fact that he may have just been dumped. But he didn’t want to cook. Why, when he was no longer used to eating alone? He didn’t want to read because he enjoyed his books better when he had Bishop to read them to. Cleaning his grooming kit wasn’t even going to cut it, because he was sure to start thinking of his pops if he did. Edison brushed his trembling hand over his mouth. Why was it so hard to keep the men he cared about in his life? He got up and went to the cabinet over the stove and pulled out the bottle of Jack Daniels he kept up there for the rare visits his uncle made to his house.

  With a glass of ice and the bottle of whisky, Edison sat on his living room couch, choosing to keep the lights low since his head was aching behind his swollen eyes. Alcohol probably wasn’t going to help that, but Edison didn’t know what else to do. He just wanted to sleep. He just wanted this day to be over. He had no friends to call and talk anything out with. His uncle would only grumble at him for taking the damn tie in the first place… which was stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did I do that? He checked his phone.

  Nothing.

  Edison poured himself a full glass, figuring he’d be flat on his back by the time he finished half of that. He put the glass to his mouth, the harsh scent stinging his nose. He held his breath and took a large gulp, swallowing it fast so it didn’t linger on his taste buds. He wasn’t a drinker, not even a beer while watching a game, so he had a feeling this might be a mistake.

  Edison hissed through his clenched teeth as the cool liquid burned the heck out of his chest, then settled in the pit of his empty stomach like lava. How do people drink this all the time? Edison coughed and hacked, then took another even bigger gulp. “Euugh. Gosh.” Okay, he figured that had to be enough to knock him out. He hoped so, because he didn’t think he could stomach any more.

  Edison set the glass beside him just in case and waited for some kind of feeling to hit him. While his stomach churned unhappily, he removed his messenger bag from where he’d tossed it on the couch and set it at his feet. He was about to lie down when the silver material of the
Armani tie hanging out the side of the bag caught his eye. Edison jerked it out of his bag, scowling down at it like it had done something to him personally. He freaking hated it now. It was the ugliest darn tie in existence. Edison gripped the soft fabric in his hands, wanting to rip it to shreds. His eyes widened. Shred… good idea.

  Edison got up and swayed on his feet, having to brace himself on the back of the couch to clear the dizzy spell. He shook his head, his limbs feeling heavy as he trudged towards his desk on the short wall in the living room. It wasn’t anything close to his executive desk in his office, it was just a corner unit to store his few reference books, office supplies, printer, and his one desktop computer he never used. He always sat at his dining table and worked on his laptop so he could look outside, but his shredder was underneath the desk. He sat in the chair and turned on the machine. Before he began to feed the wide end inside, a thought popped into his fuzzy mind, and he hoped it was a good one. But if it wasn’t, he guessed he’d learn in the morning.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Bishop

  “If you were gonna be this distracted lil homie, then you should’ve just answered one of his calls,” Mike grumbled from beside him. His dad had been giving him another laptop lesson, and discussion on the wonders of modern technology, but Bishop’s mind kept drifting. Not to mention he hadn’t stopped drinking since he finished his crappy dinner of over-cooked chicken wings and mushy Kraft Macaroni n’ Cheese.

  Bishop downed the rest of his fourth beer then stood to get another when a heavy palm cupped his shoulder. He grunted as his dad slammed him back into his chair.

  “That’s enough,” Mike growled. “Are you gonna drown in those fuckin bottles or are you gonna man-the-fuck up and call him back?”

  Bishop dropped his head into his hands. Each time his phone had vibrated on the table had felt like a bullet to his heart. He could only imagine how Edison was feeling, since he had to know that Bishop was ignoring him on purpose. But it didn’t stop his Eddie from trying repeatedly. Bishop just hadn’t known what to say. He picked up his cell phone, wanting to go in the bathroom and listen to that voicemail again, but he knew it’d cut just as deep as when he’d listened the first time.

  “I thought you said he was different,” Mike said, closing the laptop.

  “He is,” Bishop snapped.

  “Then why was he letting that other guy touch him?” Mike cocked his head to the side, challenging him.

  Bishop clenched his jaw. “He didn’t… because he…”

  “Because Edison’s not the freshest cigarette in the pack, that’s why. That Sky-bitch fooled both of them.”

  “Shut-up, Trent! Before I come in there and head-butt the shit out of you.” Bishop barked at Trent where he was reclining in the chair in the living room with the PlayStation controller in his hands.

  “It’s true is all I’m saying,” Trent mumbled.

  “Just shut up and play your damn game. I’m not taking advice from somebody recently single.” Bishop cursed. It was times like this when Trent felt like an annoying little brother instead of his best friend.

  “Fine.”

  Mike waved his hand at Trent. “Ignore him. He’s just mad he’s back on the couch again.”

  “By choice,” Trent chimed in quickly.

  “No one wants to leave a woman’s bed and sleep where another man sits his naked ass by choice,” Mike quipped.

  Bishop laughed when Trent paused the game and scowled at both of them. “Oh come on, man. Don’t tell me you’re still doing that shit, Mike.”

  Bishop laughed even harder.

  Mike nodded slowly, a sly grin forming on his face. “Only when it’s real hot and my ass gets sweaty.”

  “Fuck man.” Trent grimaced. “I hope you guys got some clean sheets around here.”

  Bishop was still listening to his dad and Trent go back and forth when his phone buzzed with another notification. It was a video message. Bishop stood and knocked his forearm with his dad’s. “All right, man. I’m out.”

  “Love you. See ya in the morning.” Mike yawned, then said to his back, “Good luck at your orientation tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.” Bishop stopped on his way down the hall. “Trent, I’ll be ready at seven thirty. Don’t make me late.”

  “I know, I know,” Trent droned. “You told me twice already. Stop nagging me…. I’m not Edison.”

  “Fuck you,” Bishop bit back.

  “Just go in your room and finish crying about it, you big fucking baby.”

  Bishop slammed his door. If Trent wanted clean sheets, then he knew where to get them. Bishop was tired, he needed sleep. He took off everything except his briefs, turned off his one lamp, and got into bed, feeling sluggish from the numerous beers. At least he had the entire day off tomorrow to do his school shit. He’d meant to have a talk with Edison about his new Tuesday night obligations after they’d had dinner and romanced each other… but obviously that hadn’t worked out.

  After Bishop was settled, he lit up the screen and clicked the play button on the video message. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Edison sitting in his living room, at his little desk with his head propped in his hands. The phone looked as if it was braced against something, since Bishop was able to see both of Edison’s hands as he wove them through his messy hair. Fuck. His eyes were puffy and red, matching his cheeks, and Bishop noticed that Edison was still in his suit at eleven-thirty at night. That wasn’t like him at all.

  “I tried calling you Bishop, but you wouldn’t answer me. I left you a message too… I… I don’t know if you listened to it.” Edison bit his bottom lip when it started to tremble.

  Oh damn. Bishop knew this video was gonna gut him. He already wanted to swallow his wounded pride and call right now to beg for Edison’s forgiveness for walking away and then ignoring him half the night. Edison’s voice was low and raspy… and a little slurred. Bishop squinted and brought the screen closer. “Are you drunk, baby?” Bishop whispered, shaking his head. He also knew that Edison wasn’t a drinker. He guessed they’d both had the same idea tonight to dull the ache.

  “I didn’t text you because I know you hate those… and… and the voice mail cut me off.” Edison dug his fists into his sockets so hard it looked painful. When he brought his hands down, Bishop noticed Edison’s eyes had welled up, but he never saw any tears fall. “So, I thought to do a video so I can explain. I just wanted a chance to ’splain, okay”

  Edison sat straighter and Bishop saw his white dress shirt was twisted and had a couple of light brown stains in the center. “Today was Boss Appreciation Day.” Edison cast his eyes upwards as if he was thinking, then continued sadly, “I hate this damn day. Always have. Because no one in my office likes me. Can’t stand me, actually. They think I’m boring and…”

  Bishop swallowed at the discomfort in his chest at seeing Edison this way.

  “And anyway, Mila, my assistant kinda forces everyone to participate.” Edison pulled at his hair, his voice sounding far off as if he was speaking to himself and not Bishop, “But, Skylar put on this whole thing about me being such a great example and a good mentor, and leader. And I deserved more than a measly greeting card from the staff. Everyone was eating up the words of his little speech. And um… I guess I did too. I should’ve known better because Skylar’s never done that before… but… but I guess I wanted to believe that maybe some of them did think that way about me.” Edison laughed humorlessly, “I should’ve known it was all some hoax. Skylar hates me and wants my position, and I wish I could figure out this weird freaking game he’s playing because then I wouldn’t… I won’t fall for his crap.”

  Edison wiped at his face. “I promise. I’m gonna threaten Skylar to within an inch of his life tomorrow. And I’m never gonna take anything from…” Edison stopped, then backtracked. “No, I’m just staying away from him. Okay, Bishop. If that’s what you want me to do.”

  He hated how dim Edison’s bright eyes had gone… because of
him.

  “I don’t want anything from him, okay. I just want to be your boyfriend. I won’t mess up again.”

  “Fuck.” Bishop groaned. Trent was right. Edison had been duped as well, but what made it worse was that Skylar had made Edison doubt that he was a great boss. In Edison’s head, Skylar’s motives had had nothing to do with the man’s obvious suppressed attraction to him, but all about embarrassing him at work and wanting his title. Edison still couldn’t wrap his pretty head around the fact that Skylar wanted him so much that he was acting like an ass to try to get his attention. Like a damn juvenile.

  “This is how I feel about this… goddamn tie, honey,” Edison said through clenched teeth.

  Bishop smiled at hearing Edison’s first curse word… and his first term of endearment for him. Honey. He watched as he held the gorgeous tie up then slowly started to lower his arm. At first Bishop had no clue what he was doing, then he heard a loud whirring sound and realized just what was happening. The best part about that entire scene wasn’t that Edison was destroying the tie but that he had a real look of satisfaction on his face after he let the tip disappear.

  Edison picked up his phone. “I’m really sorry, Bishop. I’ll see you tomorrow,” was the last thing Bishop heard before Edison disconnected.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Edison

  “Edison, do you want another coffee?” Mila asked gently from just inside his door.

  Edison rubbed at the throbbing in his left temple. He’d gotten to work an hour early hoping to speak to Bishop, only to find out he’d taken the day off. Edison hadn’t been able to sleep more than a few hours last night after he’d passed out around one in the morning, so it’d taken him longer than usual to make himself presentable today. He’d woke on his couch with a piercing headache and the worst taste in his mouth he’d ever imagined. Worse than when he’d eaten a bad piece of monkfish.