Bishop's Queen

by Cristin Harber

Bishop rolled his tongue along the inside of his mouth. “This is what you want, Jay? Me to look at camera?” He waved. “What else you got, man?”

  “Want to know something?” Jay asked.

  “Not really, dickhead. But shoot.”

  “The second that the hydrogen peroxide dissolves through the layer in the bracelet’s clasp—kaboom.” Jay’s fist splayed and his fingers wiggled overhead. “You should know a thing or two about that from your military days. One of those things suicide bombers put in their vests.” Jay chuckled. “It doesn’t take a lot, does it?”

  No, it didn’t. Bishop’s gaze dropped to Ella’s hand and back to Jay.

  “Now that’s worry on your face.” He checked the phone. “Everyone agrees.”

  If what Jay said was true… “Don’t move, El.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Babe. Don’t move.” He pulled a breath through his teeth. There couldn’t be enough chemicals packed in that bracelet to blow up the stage. But it would be enough to kill her.

  Where was the bomb squad? With Tara? Bishop wanted them upstairs. Was he going to ask that of Titan? When there was a camera on his face and the world watched?

  “Ella, babe.” With each punch of his heartbeat, Bishop teetered on the edge of destruction. “Careful as you can, walk off-stage with Locke.”

  “You want her moving?” Parker asked. “It’s unstable.”

  “You want this playing out on TV?” Jared demanded.

  Parker’s keyboard clicked in the background. “Network cut broadcast already.”

  “What the fuck are people watching?” Jared snapped.

  “Fucking hell, I don’t know. There’s at least two cell phone feeds from the auditorium livestreaming onto the Internet.”

  “Cut them!”

  “We’d lose our connection. And I can’t magically make a jammer appear where there’s not already a device.”

  Bishop couldn’t listen to the back and forth at HQ. His pulse tumbled in his throat. Sweat soaked his tuxedo shirt. How much longer would she have before whatever bullshit liner completely dissolved?

  Jay stared at his phone. “Definitely some complaints about the use of the word babe.”

  “And no complaints about the bombs?” Bishop spat. “Isn’t that interesting?”

  Jay smirked.

  “Ella, go,” Bishop calmly tried to urge.

  “No.” Her hoarse voice damn near killed him.

  “I love you, Ella, and I’m telling you, I need you to walk off this goddamn stage.” Sweat trickled down his neck. “Now.”

  She sobbed. “Bishop, not without you.”

  “Please don’t move like that,” he begged. Sobbing and crying and shaking caused too much movement with an unstable compound on a device already lined with a chemical corrosive.

  “Or else kaboom,” Jay whispered.

  Bishop was going to murder the fucker.

  Locke came to Ella’s side. “Come on, El. We need to do this.”

  Hatred flashed in her eyes. “I hate you, Jay. Right this second, I’d rather die.”

  Bishop growled, terrified as soon as her lips closed. “Goddamn it.”

  “So be it.” The coldness in Jay’s voice had never been scarier.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  “Go,” Jared demanded in Bishop’s ear. “You have a go!”

  “Take down your target,” Rocco ordered.

  Bishop went high, his right hook swinging hard and making contact as his left hand connected with Jay’s, transferring the remote. Locke dove behind Jay, ripping his free hand behind his back. If they did this wrong, and there was a dead man’s switch, Tara was dead.

  But they wouldn’t do this wrong, because he and Locke were in step. What had happened at Seneca Park was a fluke. They were a team. He might not be able to see Locke eye to eye, but he had to trust his brother-in-arms.

  “Got the bastard,” Locke grunted.

  Bishop had the remote, fumbling and gaping. Best he could tell, there was a detonation trigger and no dead man’s. The next seconds lasted a lifetime. He waited for the report of a blast, braced for the reverb.

  It didn’t come. Thank fuck.

  Bishop advanced. “Let him go.”

  “I made her,” Jay spat.

  Locke let go, and Jay bound to his feet.

  Bishop let his right hook fly. The resounding crack of his fist into Jay’s jaw didn’t feel a tenth of how good it would feel to get back to Ella, but damned if he wasn’t glad to have taken the punch.

  Locke snagged the still rebounding Jay, and Bishop didn’t look back. Those precious seconds he’d taken to hit Jay were selfish. Fuck it. They were needed, but selfish.

  Ella stood semi-frozen onstage, her arm hanging awkwardly, her face twisted in pain as shocked, sad tears mixed with her makeup. Bishop sprinted to her, immediately stabilizing her arm.

  “Babe, please stop moving.” He ignored Jay’s muffled shouts in the background.

  “Ella needs to stay put. Bomb techs hustling ass up the stairs,” Parker reported. “A minute, tops.”

  “Bishop,” Rocco’s low voice warned. “I’ve got to tell you to walk away from her.”

  “Fuck that, boss.”

  “Understood.”

  Ella shook in pain, and Bishop tried like all hell to keep her arm still. If this bracelet was blowing up, he was going with her. That minute was the longest sixty seconds of his life.

  Finally, two people in bomb suits rounded the stage corner. Ella’s lips chattered with nerves and pain.

  “It’s almost done,” he said. “Then we can go get Furry Baby and Little Kitty. Take them to hang with Brick. They’ll have fun.”

  “You said their names,” she whispered hoarsely.

  Because Lord knew he was trying to do whatever the hell it took to keep her still and thinking happy thoughts. “You picked up on that.”

  The techs assessed the situation as they took the remote detonator from him and pulled out their tools. “You need to move, sir.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “We don’t have the time or equipment to protect you.”

  “I give zero fucks. Get this off of her.”

  A man holding a tool grimaced. “It’s going to hurt like hell considering what her skin looks like.”

  “Do it.”

  “Fast,” Ella whimpered. “Please.”

  One tech cut the bracelet, while the other readied a box for the device.

  Ella’s screams curled Bishop’s toes and brought tears to his eyes as the men manhandled her raw, blistered flesh. Then it was done. They moved fast, and so did he. Up and into his arms, he took her, moving quickly as Parker directed him to an ambulance—then a gunshot rang out.

  Ella jolted, and he twisted his head, not slowing, but wondering. “Locke?”

  “What the hell?” Rocco demanded.

  “Goddamn it!” Locke shouted simultaneously.

  “All right,” Parker interrupted. “Locke’s fine.”

  “What happened?” Bishop asked.

  “Jay got his hands on a service weapon while in NYPD’s custody. Blew his brains out.”

  “Shit,” Bishop whispered, downing the stairs toward the receiving bay, where the ambulance waited.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “Nothing but a checkmate.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Ella rubbed the sleep from the corners of her eyes with her good hand, sure that she had accidentally double-dosed her pain medicine.

  Gone was the constant noise of the hospital. Too much of her time had been spent in that room. She really didn’t do well in medical facilities, but the outpouring from the public had been overwhelming. Even Vamanato had sent her flowers, and that made her smile while dealing with the burn treatment.

  But she wasn’t there anymore, and unsure of what she’d just seen, Ella tried to open her eyes again, only to find herself face-to-face with Brick. He could stand on the ground and rest his head on the bed.
>
  “Good morning,” Ella whispered, letting the scent of coffee pull her further awake. Brick licked her face, and she wrinkled her nose, using her good hand to wipe it dry. “Yup. I’m awake.”

  Confident that she was not “on” painkillers, she shifted to look away from Brick.

  Bobbing across from the foot of the bed was a ginormous balloon with the words “I’M A DICK” printed in bold lettering. It was also shaped appropriately well, given the message. “I was not dreaming.”

  She had to laugh, and Brick licked her face again.

  Bishop walked in. “Hey.”

  She angled toward him and propped herself up. “Hey.”

  She bobbed her eyebrows, not pointing to the big floating cock balloon in the room, but letting it speak for itself. “That’s an interesting way to wake.”

  “I was told that maybe I should say I was sorry.”

  Ella propped herself against his backboard. “You saved my life, while I basically refused to leave.” Where did she get a balloon that said she was a moron? “You almost died in the process.”

  “Not even close,” Bishop blustered.

  “You could’ve.”

  “Titan strong, baby.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “Am I going to hear that a lot?”

  “Yeah, probably.” He threw himself on the bed, flopping down. “More than that, I’m sorry.”

  Now fully awake but with a sore wrist, she could carefully snuggle against him. “Don’t apologize but apology accepted.”

  “Good. Because this is what I figure.”

  “You’ve been figuring?” she teased.

  “Babe? Once you work at a place like Titan, with ladies like Sugar and Cat? Nic and Beth? When they drag you to a place that has cock balloons and don’t blink when you ask to put ‘I’m a dick’ on it? Yeah, I’ve been figuring.”

  Ella snort-laughed. “Oh boy.”

  “Once in a lifetime, you meet a person who changes everything. Tell me I haven’t changed everything for you. Because you have for me.”

  “You haven’t.”

  “Bull, Ella. Bull a thousand times over.”

  “Bish—”

  “You’re supposed to fall in love with the person who forces you to enjoy your craziness, Crazy. And woman, I enjoy it. Need it. Love it. I love you, babe. Don’t you get that?”

  “You didn’t change everything. You set the bar. And when you weren’t there, the world fell apart. Now that you’re back, everything, for me, has gone back to as it should.”

  “Well…”

  “Does that work for you too?” She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “It’s kind of the same thing. What’d you say once? Potato, po-tah-toe.”

  His hand threaded through her hair. “Same thing, then. Works for me.”

  “Good,” she sighed. “Because being with you feels like a million butterflies high on the sun and racing through the air.”

  “Yeah, babe.” His thumb rolled strands of her hair between his fingers. “Nothing like I ever would’ve said, but… me too.”

  “Bishop.” Ella propped her chin on his chest, letting his fingers slide down her cheek. “Do you love me?”

  “Always. Never stopped. Not for some stupid argument. Come here.” He tugged her up and let his lips brush hers. “I see you and know you’re mine. But, El, when I kiss you?” He teased her mouth, lingering. “It’s more. It’s the future. The next, what? Fifty, sixty years of our lives.” His whisper tickled her sensitive skin. “But if you keep saving the world and making it a better place to live, maybe longer than that.”

  Ella stared into his deep-green eyes and believed every word he’d just said. “What’s bigger than love?”

  “Us.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Bishop had his first real Titan job under his belt—the first one outside of Ella. It had felt like coming home. But the second that helo had touched the ground and they’d loaded up their gear and debriefed, Bishop hauled ass home. That felt like coming home too. Even though he knew today would be rough.

  Ella had been fine while he was gone, handling the fact that he’d gone dark for days in a danger zone surprisingly well. Now, there they were. He shifted his truck into Park and glanced at Ella, who had her fingers tied in knots, much like his gut.

  He pulled the keys from the ignition, nervous. “I always liked how this place looks.” Some folks went about getting approval to get engaged in a more traditional fashion. He and Ella weren’t traditional, so there they were, walking into a conversation that no one could prepare for.

  She fidgeted. “Mm-hmm.”

  “Are you ready?” Because he certainly wasn’t.

  Ella had her bottom lip tucked between her teeth and was rolling a piece of hair on her fingers. “Are you?”

  “I don’t think anybody’s ever prepared for this type of conversation, but this is—” He shook his head. “Let’s do it.”

  They opened their truck doors, jumped out, then let them shut. The thud echoed in the very quiet afternoon. The peaceful day had little more than a slight breeze as Ella joined him at the front of the hood, letting her fingers wind with his. Her long flowing skirt picked up on a gust and brushed against his legs.

  Trees swayed. He hadn’t been back here in years. So much time had passed that it almost looked like a different place, having grown up as he had. The landscaping was the same, but the bushes and trees had matured.

  His stomach was in his throat. Nerves, emotions—things he hadn’t felt in a very long time—jumbled. He didn’t have the words as they walked on a path, until they came to a stop.

  “Here we are,” Ella said quietly.

  Thank God she could talk because standing at his sister’s grave killed him.

  “Hi, Brie.” Ella paused, losing her composure. “It’s been too long since the three of us were together.”

  Tears pricked Bishop’s eyelids, and he had to stare away at the sky. It wasn’t just that it had been too long since the two of them had been there; it had been too long since he had. Years had passed since he stood there, and how awful of a brother did that make him?

  Ella squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back.

  “Hey, sis.” Because that was about all he could manage.

  “I guess you probably see this already. Us,” Ella wondered aloud. “Or maybe you don’t. Who knows how it works? But Bishop and I found our way back together.” Gently, she swung their hands.

  Somewhere, a bird carried a tune, and Bishop took a stabilizing breath, standing stoically for Ella and Brie. They might never know that right now was one of the hardest moments of his life, but he would sooner fall down and die than let them both down again.

  “Brie and I knew that it would always be like this. Right, Brie?” Ella laughed quietly. “It took Bishop some time.” Ella tilted her chin, a gentle smile waiting for him.

  “Not that long,” he offered.

  She gave him a side eye, and it made him laugh—which he tamped down. Laughing at a cemetery felt wrong. Everything about this was weird. They had talked about closure. Ella felt very strongly about having this conversation with the three of them. But actually talking out loud? And laughing? While Brie was gone? This was a place of respect.

  Hell. This was what Ella wanted and maybe he even needed. Either way, he still found his way back to his sister, who loved to laugh and smile with them. They were the three musketeers.

  “I think…” Bishop studied the grave. Brie O’Kane. “That girls figure these things out before the guys do. But I figured it out.” He held Ella, pulling her in front of him and wrapping her to his stomach. “And I’m gonna marry El one of these days. That’s one of the reasons why we’re here.”

  “All those years of doodling his name in a heart paid off.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “I promise not to be such a stranger anymore.”

  Bishop leaned on Ella in so many ways as the breeze picked up her skirt, brushing against his leg as it always seem
ed to do. She leaned back, and they stood, letting time float by, until he gave her a squeeze.

  “This is good,” he said. “I think we’ve done more for us and Brie today than we have in years.”

  ***

  “Well, look at you.” Bishop couldn’t hide his smile as Ella pulled his truck in front of his house. “If I knew any better, I’d assume you were a natural-born, diesel-driving, road mama.”

  Ella rolled up the window and opened the door, hopping out. “Ha, ha. Let’s not get carried away.” A quick whistle, and Brick followed her out of the truck’s cab. She reached in and helped out FB and LK. “We had a video to shoot, and I thought it would be best by that creek.”

  He met her halfway down the front path. “You’re using Brick for his good looks and charming personality.”

  “Brick stole the show. His ratings compete with mine.”

  Bishop grabbed his dog’s head. “Don’t become a celebrity,” he said to his dog. “I can only handle one at a time.”

  “Oh, shut up.” She jumped up for a hug.

  “Sure, sure. Boss all your people around. FB, LK, Brick, get the talent something for dinner.”

  Ella kept her arms wrapped around his neck. “You’re horrible. If I weren’t starving, I’d say that was just mean. But since I am, I’m wondering if Brick has amazing vegan dinner-making skills.”

  He pulled away from the hug. “All right. Go inside; do whatever you have to do. I have the rest of the day planned.”

  Ella’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

  “Yes. Go.”

  She scooped up her cat and went inside, with Brick and FB following suit. They’d swung by her condo after stopping by Brie’s grave, and he’d directed her to pack a bag—which in reality meant bags, but that was all part of the process. And today was a hell of a process. Bishop waited patiently, crushing cans and chucking them for Brick, who was less patient. He had given up and returned after thirty seconds. Eventually, despite however hungry she claimed to be, Ella popped out his front door.

  She twirled at the top of the stairs, letting her skirt swirl around her waist. “I’m ready for my date.”