Bishop

by A. E. Via

  “Our handsome boss is a bit shy you guys, let’s give him some encouragement. Come on, Edison.” Skylar boosted the crowd and they fed right into it, calling Edison’s name.

  Bishop took Edison’s hand and led him up on the stage. Whatever this bastard was trying to do, it wouldn’t work. Edison’s face was already turning red when he came to stand next to Skylar with a plastered-on smile. When the microphone was shoved into his face, Edison’s hand shook where it was gripping it.

  “No need to thank us,” Edison said meekly. “We do this because we love our community. You guys keep having fun, and good luck with the raffle.”

  Edison turned to walk away to the sound of more rambunctious applause when Skylar stepped between them. “And we don’t wanna forget to thank Mr. Bishop Stockley of Stockley Lawn Services for this amazing venue he’s created.”

  Bishop glared at Skylar and mumbled a stern, “thank you” when he shoved the mic so close to his lips, he almost made him kiss the fucking thing. Skylar laughed as if they were old friends, and hung on to his shoulder when he tried to walk away.

  “Don’t go just yet. We have a special recognition for Stockley Lawn Service from the Mayor’s Office located right here in Town Center!” There were ohhs and ahhs from the crowd as Skylar reached behind him just in time for Jessica to hand him a small eight-by-ten plaque. “And our firm is humbled that such a prestigious company as yours was willing to do all of this for our community.”

  Skylar held the shiny mahogany and black presentation in his hand and brought the microphone to his mouth. “This is so beautiful you guys. Listen to this… To Stockley Lawn Service. Thank you for your tireless efforts in building our community—” Skylar stopped. “Oh hell. I’m being rude, aren’t I? I’m acting like this is my recognition. I didn’t do any of this amazing work. Bishop Stockley did ladies and gentlemen.”

  Skylar turned to face Bishop head-on, staring him dead in his eyes, and shoved the thick plaque at his chest and let it go. “Please Bishop. Read it for all of us,” he said, handing Bishop the microphone.

  Bishop stood there stunned, realizing that once again he’d underestimated his enemy. The crowd was silent as they waited for him to finish the message. But his first glance at the fancy cursive writing and he knew it wasn’t happening. He didn’t realize he was squeezing the hell out of the award until he heard his knuckles popping and Edison calling his name faintly.

  Skylar stepped forward, feigning concern. “Is… I’m sorry is there something wrong?”

  This guy should’ve gotten an Oscar because Bishop had never seen such convincing acting. He knew that Skylar had read the transcript and found out exactly why Bishop had gotten a lesser sentence. And the crafty motherfucker had waited until the perfect moment to make that information public and to humiliate him all at the same time.

  “Oh no,” Skylar said slowly peeling the microphone from Bishop’s tight fist. “You can’t read it. Oh my god, I didn’t know. I’m… I’m so sorry, Bishop. I didn’t realize.” Skylar waved his hand to silence the hushed whispers. “Please, please stop everyone. There’s no shaming allowed here. No worries, all right. The Mayor’s commemoration will be hung on the wall in the lobby Monday morning for anyone who wants to read it.”

  Bishop’s vision hazed over and all he could see was red. His leg began to shake when he caught the shifty eyes of the crowd. Even Ms. Strollenburg and her grandchildren were all staring up at him with shock and pity. Fuck! Fuck me! He knew this had been a bad idea.

  “Bishop.”

  He was barely able to tear his eyes away from Skylar as Edison stood in front of him with a look of horror on his red face. “Is it…what’s…?” He was embarrassed. Bishop felt his forearm straining as he balled his fist up as tightly as he could. He was going to fucking kill that piece of shit.

  “Bishop, no! Don’t!” Mike yelled from somewhere, pushing his way towards the stage. “Trent!”

  At least he thought that’s what he heard. He could just make out his dad’s face, the scowl overtaking his features, as he struggled to get to him. Mike knew… knew he was about to throw the rest of his life away. Bishop cocked his elbow back just as Trent slammed into his chest and pushed him backwards until they were stumbling off the platform.

  “Okay. Does everyone have those raffle tickets out? Come on now, we have a ton of stuff to give away and you don’t want to miss out!” Mila said with enthusiasm as she tried to pry the curious eyes away from his and Edison’s drama.

  Bishop didn’t know how she’d stolen the show from Skylar, but it’d taken Trent, his dad, and Manny to get Bishop away from the bastard as he stood there with the most victorious grin he’d ever seen. Mike hustled him into the truck in the parking lot and yelled for Trent to get him out of there.

  He didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye to Edison.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Edison

  “Edison, wait,” Presley called after him as he ran through the parking lot as fast as his legs would go. He had to catch up with Bishop. He heard the sound of her sandals clicking across the asphalt but he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. “Edison!”

  He fumbled with the handle before he got it open just as Presley rushed to his side, hanging on to his door as she caught her breath. “Edison wait, please. Oh my god. I’m so, so sorry that happened. That was—”

  “Fucked up!” Edison barked, glaring at his boss.

  Her eyes widened but she didn’t say anything about his language. “Yes, it was. Where are you going?”

  “I have to go after him… I have to tell him it doesn’t matter. I can’t believe…” Edison rubbed his forehead. How had he not put those pieces together? Now that he’d taken a second to think about it, it all made sense and he knew it was true.

  “Edison, what can I do?” Presley asked, appearing sincerely apologetic.

  Edison looked up with sadness until he saw Skylar strolling towards him. “Fire him,” he said before he realized it.

  Presley glanced over her shoulder then turned back to Edison. “Done.”

  Edison blinked. Was it really that easy? If he’d known that he would’ve had Skylar fired ages ago.

  “I’m not firing him because he hurt your boyfriend’s feelings, Edison. I’m firing him because he used my community outreach event to air a personal vendetta. He embarrassed me and my company. If it wasn’t for Mila’s quick thinking it would’ve ruined the rest of the day.

  Skylar was almost to them and there were a few nosy stragglers from his office still watching him. “I have to get out of here.”

  “Take the week off, Edison,” Presley said.

  Edison gapped up at her from his driver’s seat. “What? No.”

  “It wasn’t a request. Take the week and let me clear all this mess up for you, okay,” she said, leaning in and pecking him on his cheek. “It’s gonna be okay.”

  “Thanks, Presley,” he said. Edison felt his chest loosen a fraction as he peeled out of the parking lot and got onto the Boulevard.

  Edison drove as fast as he dared—five miles over the limit—and turned into his court. His heart rate was high, and his hands were damp on the steering wheel as he swerved into his driveway. He raced up the porch steps, unlocked the door and barreled his way inside.

  “Bishop! Bishop, honey are you in here?” Edison yelled, racing to the patio doors and flinging them open. When he didn’t see anyone, he hurried to his bedroom, “Bishop!”

  Bishop wasn’t in there either. Edison’s heart sank. Had he run from him again? Bishop’s duffle bag was still open on the side of his bed and Edison went to it, remembering their conversation while they’d gotten dressed together. He’d mentioned making some shelf space for Bishop’s stuff, so he didn’t have to feel as if he was living out of suitcase. Edison took a deep breath, he didn’t just want to make some room in his dresser. He wanted to make more room in his entire house. He wanted Bishop to move in.

  He picked up the bag and went to set it on the
floor when a wide brown envelope sticking out of the side pocket, caught his eye. Edison frowned when he saw Adult Learning Center in bold letters along the top. He didn’t know how long he stood there staring at the envelope but the moment he reached for it he heard the front door slam. He jumped up and ran out of his bedroom and down the hall.

  “Bishop, I’ve been so worr—” Edison skidded to a stop, almost stumbling into the back of the couch.

  “You got me fired. Did you know that?”

  “Skylar, what the hell are you doing in my house?” Edison scowled.

  “Your door was open.” Skylar said, standing close to his dining room. He clasped his hands behind his back and glanced around as if he was at an art exhibit. “So, this is your home.” Skylar shrugged and made a ‘meh’ expression, “It’s not bad. Could use a hint of my style though.”

  Edison squinted at Skylar, noting that something was off. He was acting strange and eerily calm, even though he’d led with the fact that he was now out of a job. And if Presley had anything to do with it, completely out of the law field in Hampton Roads. It was going to be almost impossible for him to find work after word got out that he wasn’t afraid to humiliate the company he worked for.

  Edison stayed at a decent distance as Skylar moved into his kitchen, running his long fingers along the surface of his marble-top island. “If you knew what happened on that surface this morning, you wouldn’t be touching it,” Edison said spitefully.

  Skylar jerked his hand away as if he’d been burned then shot daggers at Edison with those envious green eyes. He didn’t care if it pissed Skylar off, Edison wanted him to pay for what he’d done to Bishop. No one should be made to feel like that, ever. Edison had suffered bullying all of his life, he knew what Bishop must be feeling. Defeated. Mortified. Ashamed. Edison couldn’t imagine battling through life not being able to read. However that happened, it couldn’t have been Bishop’s choice or his fault. And with all those challenges, Bishop had still turned out to be a talented, remarkable, accomplished businessman.

  “I didn’t want to have to do it this way, Edison. You should’ve listened to me when I tried to warn you about his history,” Skylar reasoned.

  “I don’t care about Bishop’s past and I never will.”

  “You don’t realize I did it for your own good. You deserve someone who’ll make you look good. Me and you together, we could be the best executive management team our field as ever seen. And after you leave Presley Alfred as well, me and you can brand ourselves and apply to one of those mega-firms in downtown.” Skylar unbuttoned the second button on his white Polo shirt. “Now that Bishop’s gone, you’ll see that me and you make a lot more sense.”

  Edison could only stand there and gawk for a few seconds before he sputtered, “Have you lost your freaking mind? You’re delusional. Bishop isn’t gone. He’s not going anywhere!” Edison yelled. “Don’t you get it? Idiot. Finding this out only makes me love that man even more.”

  Skylar came out of the kitchen looking just as shocked and appalled as him. “Edison, you don’t love him. You just don’t want to be alone. You’re an intellect. I’ve seen you read Ulysses at least five times. Do you really want a man on your arm who can’t even read Dr. Seuss’ Green Eggs and Ham?”

  Edison stiffened as he felt the temperature rising in his chest and neck. “Get the hell out of my house.”

  Skylar crossed his living room and was in Edison’s face so fast that he didn’t have a chance to retreat. “Hey!” he warned inching as close against the couch as he could.

  “I’m trying to be a decent guy here, Edison. Trying to do the right thing. That Bishop is bad news and he’s not for you. Think about your career. Think about me,” Skylar said softly, his eyes dropping to Edison’s jaw. “I know you didn’t know I’m bisexual.”

  “I don’t care,” Edison gritted out, still trying to make some space between them.

  “You’ve lost a lot of weight over the past couple of years.” Skylar said, his voice husky, completely ignoring Edison’s discomfort. “You don’t think I’ve noticed. But I have. I’m proud of you.”

  “I’m gonna say this one last time. You’re. Freaking. Delusional. I don’t want you. Not then, not now. Now, get out of my house!” Edison barked in Skylar’s face.

  “Edison.” Skylar sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m gonna get you to wake up, one way or the other. And then you’re gonna get Ms. Alfred to write me a glowing letter of recommendation for the amazing job I did in her firm.”

  “What job?” Edison growled. “You don’t do any work. All you do is boink the attorney you’re supposed to assist because you have no clue how to do the work required for your position.”

  Something resembling rage flashed in Skylar’s eyes, and Edison knew he needed to get away.

  “Do you let him fuck you, Edison. Hmm?” Skylar said, inching closer. Edison felt Skylar’s thighs press against his.

  “I said back off,” Edison warned again. He didn’t have anywhere to go, so he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Don’t make me call the police.”

  Skylar snatched Edison’s phone out of his hand and tossed it onto the couch, then grabbed him in a tight hold, pressing his arms at his sides when he tried to reach for it. “Why are you doing this?” Skylar grunted as Edison fought to get loose.

  “Let me go, Skylar! Get off me!”

  “Calm down, Edison. I’m not gonna hurt you,” Skylar said, trying to control him. “I just wanna talk, alone.”

  Edison was panicking because even though Skylar’s words weren’t threatening, he still hadn’t let him go. He had his head reared back as Skylar leaned in so close, he was able to drag his long nose over his throat.

  “Don’t freaking touch me!” Edison hollered. His heart was beating so hard and he was breathing too fast to think rationally. He was scared. He wasn’t a fighter. And before he knew it, adrenaline had flooded his body and jolted him into survival mode. “Let go!”

  “Not until you agree to call Ms. Alfred,” Skylar grunted, squeezing Edison tighter.

  He inched like a worm trying to get his arms free, and when he couldn’t he reared his head back and snapped it forward with all of his might, slamming his forehead into the bridge of Skylar’s nose, head butting the fuck out of him… just like Bishop had told him when he and Mike were wrestling. Skylar screamed, releasing Edison and clamping his hands over his busted nose.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Bishop

  Bishop and Trent were quiet in the truck while his friend drove him around awhile until he’d calmed down.

  “You all right, Bishop?” Trent asked.

  “Yeah, man,” he said, his voice rough. He shook his head thinking of everything that’d happened in the last twenty-four hours. He’d taken Skylar’s threat seriously, but he’d put his and Edison’s lovemaking first. He should’ve told him last night, but he didn’t regret the love he’d received instead.

  “You ready to go home?” Trent asked after making a U-turn.

  “Take me to Eddie’s,” Bishop mumbled.

  “That’s where I meant.” Trent pressed the gas harder. “You’re never at the trailer anymore. Neither is Mike, really.”

  “Is that… are you—?”

  “Naw. I’m good,” Trent hurried to say, glancing at him before darting his eyes back to the road. “I’m enjoying the place all to myself, ya know. Connecting with myself.”

  “Well don’t connect with yourself to much on the couch, dude.” Bishop smirked.

  Trent threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck you. I’ll bust off on your bed too if I’m in the mood.”

  Bishop’s smile was half-hearted, “You won’t be alone for long. Wood should be out soon. He’ll do six months in the halfway and then me and Mike said he could stay in the trailer until he gets on his feet.”

  “Well shit,” Trent said. “So, it’ll just be me and him.”

  Bishop rubbed his temple. “Yeah I guess.” Or it’ll be the
three of us if Eddie sends me packing. “But Wood is cool. You’ll like him.”

  “Is he gay?” Trent asked suddenly.

  Bishop frowned. “What does that matter?”

  “It doesn’t”

  “Okay then.”

  “Did you all mess around when you were locked up?”

  Bishop gave Trent a tired look. “No, Trent. What part of celibate don’t you get? Besides, I don’t think I’d be his type.”

  “What does that mean? He has a type?”

  “You can ask him anything you want when he gets there. But let me warn you, Wood is hard to read, and difficult to sucker,” Bishop said. That was the best advice he could give his friend. He’d really have to experience Wood firsthand. There was no describing him.

  Trent didn’t look pleased.

  Bishop punched him in the shoulder. “You know you can come over to Eddie’s anytime, man. He always tells me to invite you and Mike for dinner or whatever. We’re not always up under each other or no shit like that. He works on his laptop a lot, and I kill time in the yard or playing my video game when he’s cooking.” Bishop’s voice started to trail off as he thought of the comfortable life he and Edison had been living together. If he’d lost that, he didn’t know what…

  “Sounds good, man. I’ll come over and eat… you don’t have to ask me twice. I love Edison’s food.”

  “Me too,” Bishop whispered.

  “You and Edison are gonna be all right, B. He’s fucking head over heels, man. He ain’t going nowhere.” Trent tried to reassure him like always.

  “Yeah, and I think I know that, but once again… it’s hard as hell to face him right now. He’s so fucking smart and I’m sure he’s wondering how the hell I’ve managed to survive being this damn stupid.”

  “B,” Trent growled.