Tacet a Mortuis Page 12

  “Brantley and Nate against Bishop.”

  “What!” I screeched, my feet picking up speed.

  “Chill, baby sis, they had to be held accountable for their actions.”

  “But Nate fights as a sport! And there’s two of them.” Just as I was babbling off, the crowd parted more, and the scene played out in front of me. Bishop reared his fist back and slammed it right into Nate’s, a loud crush vibrating through the air, and then he roundhouse kicked Brantley in the stomach. I swore I heard the crunching of his ribs from here. I wanted to interrupt, I wanted to scream and stop it, but another part of me knew that this wasn’t my place. These boys had rules and rituals. Even if I may not understand them, it didn’t mean that they didn’t exist. And besides, I had a feeling this had everything to do with me.

  “They’ll kill each other,” I whispered to Hunter, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the fight, even when Nate’s blood sprayed through the air. Right before he tried to attack Bishop with a left hook, it got blocked by a massive hand, and then Bishop laid into him one more time. A loud, yet silent, “oh…” sounded out through the crowd, and I froze, the blood pulsing through my veins turning to frost.

  “Nawww,” Hunter grinned. “They’ll just play around for a bit.” Then his eyes came to mine. “Hope you weren’t hoping for your stepbrother to be all jiffy with you again.” Then he returned his attention back to the died down brawl. “Because he just got a huge wakeup call.”

  I couldn’t watch anymore, so I sunk into the crowd and backed toward the way I came, spinning around and pressing through the doors. The silence that broke through from being in that loud room made my ears bleed. There was no one out here now, I guessed everyone was in that room watching Bishop as if he was a lion in a circus. This was his circus and those were his monkeys, and Bishop Vincent Hayes was most definitely the ringleader. This place was far more extravagant than I would have ever thought. I knew Bishop had money, and his family had money, but this was extreme—even for him. Making a beeline for the elevator, I press the button anxiously and then press it a few more times. If it could not decide to come slow today, that would be great. Where the hell was Tate, too? She just disappeared.

  “Leaving so soon?” My finger stopped an inch away from hammering at that little circle button again.

  Without turning to face him, I shrugged. “You have enough company here to keep you occupied, Bishop.” I realized how sober I was at this point, which was very unfortunate considering the drinks I consumed were for the sole purpose of once again, coming face to face with my high school nemesis-slash-first love. Bishop was my kryptonite, but I was no Lois Lane, and he was no Superman. What he was? Was an addiction I couldn’t break. No amount of time spent at a rehab clinic could help me, because I didn’t want to help myself. I was addicted to the burn that crusted over my vulnerable heart every time he broke it, because sometimes, the very few times that I have seen another side to Bishop, made all those pieces worth breaking for. Made him worth it. I was a junkie chasing my next high, and just hoping, that this wasn’t the time I overdosed on a love so toxic, and so far out of my reach, that I would damn near kill myself just to know how it feels one last time. I wasn’t afraid to die, I was afraid I’d never feel the heat from his hand wrapped around my heart, right before he’d shatter it into millions of pieces. I was, in short, a lost cause.

  So, even though I heard the doors to the elevator ping open, I turned to finally face him, pinching my lips together when I saw the cut below his right eyebrow and the blood slightly seeping out from his bottom lip. He still had no shirt on, and his tank, I could see, was tucked into his back pockets. He only wore his military boots on his feet, and sweat glistened off each and every tight muscle he had. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to seeing Bishop in all his glory. He was just too magnificent for the average eye. Finally, my eyes collided with his, and I was waiting for a cocky comeback. Maybe something funny. But I got nothing. I got a blank stare that gave away nothing. I hadn’t received this impassive look since I first met Bishop.

  The doors closed, and the longer our eyes remained connected, the more it felt as though all of the oxygen was being sucked out of the room. The walls were closing in, everything in my peripheral fading black, and all that I could see was him. His frighteningly vacant eyes. The kind that holds your interest and has your thighs clenching together, all while sending chills down your spine. His lips. The curve of his upper rim and how it dipped in the middle, while his bottom one seemed plumper. The sharpness of his jaw, that was as though Greek gods had sharpened it with a magical fucking sword of beauty. With that, you had Bishop, who had you second guessing all biblical and scientific history lesson you ever got as a kid, because there was no way someone this perfect was created out of sheer genetics.

  I cleared my throat out of my daze when everything came back into real time. Stepping closer toward him, I reached for his cheek, and his eyes dropped to my mouth.

  “I’ll clean you up before I leave.”

  He didn’t answer, and I searched his features for a clue or any kind of reaction, but again, was met with the same vacant, hazy look. So I hooked my index finger around his, testing the waters to see if he was going to allow it since he hadn’t said anything before then. I felt him still, and then his eyebrows pulled together, and just when I thought he was about to tell me to fuck off, his finger tightened around mine and he pulled me into his chest. I ignored the spraying of blood that was strewn over his flesh as his other hand came to my face. His fingers grasped my chin as he tilted my head up toward him.

  “I. Don’t. Share. Madison. Ever.”

  I swallowed past the massive lump in my throat. So it was still about that. “I—”

  He shook his head, his finger squeezing my chin. His eyes pierced into mine, as his lips lightly brushed over my mouth. “Ever.”

  I gulped and then nodded. “Okay.”

  Then his lips crashed down onto mine and all senses inside of me exploded everywhere, unlocking the latch that kept my legs up. His arm hooked around my back as his tongue dipped into my mouth, sliding against my own before he pulled away slightly, taking my breath away but leaving the soft tang of metallic slipping down my throat.

  “I’ll get these fucking people out of my house.” He pressed his lips to mine, so softly, so gently, giving one peck of a kiss. That, against all of the other kisses I had been owned by from him, this was the one that seized my heart. I was putty in his hands. He took me out the kitchen, catching Jase’s eye. “Tell everyone to fuck off.”

  Jase stared between the two of us and then grinned. “How long is this little cute act going to last this time?” Bishop’s arm, that was wrapped around the back of my neck, tensed. I thought it was from Jase’s remark, but then he tucked me under his arm farther and kissed the top of my head.

  “Has it ever really never been her?”

  Jase’s grin deepened, his eyes continuously going between the two of us. “I guess not.”

  My heart felt swollen in my chest, but my legs and muscles ached from fatigue, so I was thankful when Bishop led me to the stairs that were in the sitting room. I thought the room I went into earlier was the master bedroom, I guess not.

  “Hey!” Jase yelled out, just as my hand landed on the railing. We both turned to look over our shoulders to find Hunter, Nate, and Brantley, all now smiling with eyes sparkling with adrenaline, grinning at us. It was the first time since before Bishop had found out about my shenanigans that there had been any sort of air of peace surrounding us all. I understood now. Why Bishop had to do what he did tonight. It was not only to make a point but to restore the peace within the group. The trust. They were like brothers, and unlike girls, they weren’t catty. They took their shit into a ring, punched it out, and then got over it. I guessed in their world, it was the only way they could live to survive amongst each other. It made sense.

  “She’s still my little sister!”

  “—Our…” Hunter added, whac
king Jase.

  “—Our plus me, fuckers,” Nate added, giving them a dirty look as he pulled open the fridge, taking out a drink. People were slowly pouring back into the main living areas now, the silent space slowly being filled with soft chitchat.

  Bishop scoffed. “Don’t give a fuck. She’s Bishop’s, her eyes say so, her body says so, her” —he lifted my shirt so they could see his initials on my ribs— “skin says so—”

  I interrupted, sending them all a wink. “Her heart sort of says so, too…” It was no secret to Bishop how I felt about him, I knew that, and I’m pretty sure everyone else knew that too, so it didn’t bother me with how forward I was with my wording. His grip tightened around me anyway, and then he led me upstairs.

  “We’ve decided we’re too young to be uncles!” Nate called out from down below. Bishop flipped him off over the railing and I laughed, shaking my head. That would be a nightmare. Then it started to sink in…did I ever want kids? Right now wasn’t the time.

  “Wow.” I took in the bedroom and all its glory. Where his room back home was all black and disturbed young teenager, his room here was an off-white. White enough to know it’s white, but a tint of cream stirred in to accentuate the pearl trimmings. It was an attractive and clean contrast that was warm and inviting, regardless of the bareness of it all. His bed was to the far left side of the room, so whoever was on one side got a full view of the city while the other could see downstairs. I loved it. I watched as flames from the gas fire licked up the wall opposite the bed, sending out hues of burnt orange to fill the dimly lit room. I let out a soft sigh.

  “This place is truly beautiful, Bishop.”

  When I didn’t get a response, I looked directly at him, only to find he was already watching me. An interesting look pulled over his features. It wasn’t something I had seen him display before, and made me a little nervous and jumpy. He still managed to make me feel fear, and I think he always would because that was just who he was, and who he was to his core. It wasn’t a front, it was just Bishop. He was real and would never put on a front to make someone more comfortable. You either took him as he was, or you didn’t. Either way, it would never bother him. No one bothered him—and that was half of the charm and half of the fear.

  “What is it?” My fingers laced with my hands nervously.

  He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, slightly leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees.

  I followed, sitting beside him on the mattress, silently waiting for him to say something. Anything. For so long, I’d been wanting, praying, for him to open up to me a little. But every time he did open up, it seemed like all It would do is crack open more dark corners of his soul. It was an endless game of hide and seek where the counting was limitless.

  “Goddammit, Madison,” he whimpered with so much emotion, it damn near almost knocked me flat on my face.

  “What’d I do now?” I mentally began sifting through my memories with the help of my good pal anxiety, flicking through those pages to make sure I hadn’t done anything else wrong.

  “Stop.”

  There was that one morning that I had said some bad things abou—

  “Madison.” His hand came to my cheek and he turned my face toward him. His eyes pierced into mine. “I said, stop.” Then his thumb brushed softly over my bottom lip, his eyes watching the movement. “Stop overanalyzing and overthinking my move, for once.” He paused and then continued. “Usually, this would be the part where I’d say ‘you can’t figure me out, so give it up,’ but I’ve come to the realization that…” he grinned. “I’m a fucking liar.”

  “A what?”

  “A liar.” His thumb stopped moving and instantly, I missed the caress of his rough touch. “It’s fucking you, Madison. You’re the only person walking this earth that could ever figure me out. You’re the only fucking person walking this earth that I truly know I’d kill a motherfucker for, and you’re the only fucking girl walking this earth that has me.”

  “Has you?” I whispered, tears threatening to surface. I wasn’t sure how to fully take in this side of Bishop. I had seen snippets of it in the past, but as quickly as I had seen it, it had been ripped away from me again before I could fully comprehend, or even enjoy, what I was feeling. “I have you?”

  A small smile tickled his lips. It wasn’t a cocky smile or a smug smile. It was genuine. “You’ve always had me, Madison. You know that.”

  Do I?

  Pulling my bottom lip into my mouth, I take my gaze off him and look to the floor to ceiling window in front of me, this would be my side when I was staying. I didn’t want to risk the chance of breaking whatever moment we were having right now, but I needed to know before I took another step in the direction of what was Bishop and Madison.

  “Can I ask you something without you flipping your switch on me?”

  “Anything,” he expressed, his voice low and soft.

  I took a deep breath. “I know about your deal with your father.”

  Pause.

  I continued, “So I need to know one thing, and I will only ask you once.” Then I finally let my attention go back to him. He was watching me, and I him. “Is this real, or is this a game?”

  He searched my face. “Madison, does this—what we have, the connection and everything that we’ve experienced since we met—does that all seem fake to you?”

  There was no second-guessing that answer. “No. But I never second-guessed my feelings, it was yours I was unsure about.”

  His arm snaked around my waist as he lifted me up, placing me down on his lap so I was facing him with my legs straddled around his hips. His hands fell to my ass and he squeezed. “I may not fully understand my own feelings when it comes to you, and I never have, but when I do, you’ll be the first person to know about it.”

  I smiled, my hand coming to his face. If that was as close to a ‘I love you,’ that I was going to get for now, I was happy. I wrapped my arm around the back of his neck.

  “Now, can you ride on my dick for a few hours so we can sleep.” My head tipped back as I laughed, just as he pulled me down onto the bed and tore off my little dress. “This is sexy as fuck, Mads.” His fingers traced the mesh material.

  “You like?”

  His eyes flew to mine. “It’s a favorite for sure, but right now, it needs to be on the floor.” Then he threw it across the room before his hands came to my back, and he pushed my chest down onto his face.

  “Wait!” My hands came to his chest. “I almost forgot.” I arched my back so I could access my back pocket and took out the 10kt heavy white gold curb chain. The shotgun bullet shell that dangled off of it was lightly engraved. BVH + MMV. It was cheesy, and I was scared.

  He took it, his eyes searching mine and then going back to the chain. “Baby…”

  “Happy birthday.”

  He kissed me hard, wrapping the chain around his fist. He leaned back. “Put it on?”

  I nodded and got up, taking the chain from him. When it was securely around his neck, he turned around quickly, shoving me back onto the bed. My laughter was cut short by his teeth catching my nipple. He bit down, and I moaned, my head tilting back. I could feel his hardness pressing against my clit and I slowly rubbed myself over him. His hands fell to my hips and he squeezed tightly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his tongue slid out and wet his bottom lip. Sexy. As. Fuck. He caught my smile, narrowed his eyes, and then flipped me onto my back. I screamed out in shock, then his head dove into my neck while his knee hitched my leg up, pressing himself into me while his tongue licked over my collarbone.

  I guessed he liked his present.

  “I want you to think of a wall, a bulletproof one that no matter how hard any weapon hounds on it, it could never break.” Rob had said, pacing up and down in front of the seven of us. We had been close all our lives, whether by family or by choice, they were my brothers. I chose to care for them, no amount of family influence co
uld have forced the kind of brotherhood we shared—which made us the most lethal Kings created. The generations before us, my father had said they always fought or struggled to get along sometimes. Whether it be by girl or just by personalities not being compatible, it never happened. They never had a generation that flowed fluidly like we did, so they had big plans for us.

  “A wall?” Nate snickered. “You brought us here to teach us about a wall?”

  Rob waved him off diffusely and continued his army march backward and forward in front of us. “I want you to start building this wall inside of your brain, but before you do so, I want you to make sure there are six seats there beside you. Not eight, not two, not any other number but seven total,” he paused, looking down at me. I wasn’t a short kid. For a ten-year-old, I was pretty tall, but staring up at Rob in this moment, I felt two-feet. “I want you to start building this wall today. Work on it, I mean really train your brain to build it, because by the time you initiate in, I need that wall to be solid. To be unfuckwithable. This”—Rob gestured around—“was who you trusted. No one else.”

  “What about my dad?” I argued, looking at the guys who all glared at me like “shut the fuck up.” Rob was scary, but I didn’t scare easily.

  “Even your dad. He went through the same when he was your age, and so will the next ones who come after you.”

  “What, as in we have to have kids?” Hunter scrunched up his face.

  “Yes.” Dad interrupted, walking around the back of the cabin dressed in one of his fine suits. “You will have kids one day.”

  “No, I’m good. I don’t want kids.” I knew at a very young age that children didn’t appeal to me, and I doubted that would change in the future. Call it the only-child curse.

  “Oh I bet you will, I bet you and Khales will have kids by the time you’re sixteen,” Eli snorted, only no one joined him.

  “No. I don’t want them.”

  My dad kneeled down in front of me, searching my eyes. “You will, son, and lucky for you, I have someone lined up.”