DECEIT (B723)

by Hazel Grace

  “Philly steak and cheese sub from Old Tymers, and you’re on.”

  I hold out my hand for him to shake. “Deal.”

  Kyson takes it, then plops down between the girls and extends an arm over both of their bodies comfortably.

  Emmy glimpses over and away from her laptop for the first time in over an hour, giving him a smile at what my best friend just whispered before returning back to whatever she’s doing.

  Speaking of geeks, Kyson is beyond lucky that he’s shown no interest in my little blonde obsession.

  My wife.

  The woman I will not let go because I simply can’t.

  They’re so close that—if I didn’t know better—I’d think they were fucking, and she was coming back for more. She considers whatever he says, brings him lunch sometimes, gives him long hugs, and looks up at him with those glimmering browns.

  The thought alone drives me into a temporary state of jealousy sometimes. Then I remember that Kyson isn’t screwing my girl because she’s always too busy bothering me.

  Although he is everything that I’m not so, in all honesty, it’d make sense if they did.

  He’s fearless, honest, and generous. Three things that Emmy deserves and receives from my mellow-mouthed buddy, who has a severe soft spot for her.

  And he doesn’t know we’re married.

  No one is privy to it because my better half refuses to let everyone know.

  Literally demanded we kept quiet.

  Blue suddenly shifts off the couch, a devilish smile emerging off her features as she pointedly eyes Chuck sitting nonchalantly in his chair.

  “Boys,” she beckons, moving forward to place a hand on both Marty’s and Mills’s backs. “Take five...outside.”

  Marty grumbles something inaudible, smacking the top of Chuck’s head on the way out as Mills casually follows.

  Once the door slams shut behind them, Blue takes a seat across from Chuck, leaning back languidly and pushing out her tits.

  “Got any kids, Chuck?” she asks, fishing out her cell phone.

  “No,” he deadpans, stealing a glance at her from underneath his lashes. And when he does, he doesn’t bother to ignore her, showing pure interest in the vixen in front of him.

  Blue could talk a man into sucking his own dick if it meant being able to talk, sleep or kiss her. She has the sex appeal of a million women into one curvy body with the mindset of a man and the heart of a she-devil.

  She doesn’t care if she hurts your feelings.

  She doesn’t give a fuck about anniversaries or special dates, she just wants what she wants while continuing on her merry way whether she gets it or not.

  And normally the latter doesn’t happen.

  “Wanna do a line?” Out of the corner of my eye, Emmy’s chin snaps up, hinting that she’s going to be a pain in the ass yet again.

  Kyson catches my eyes, and I jerk my head for him to go so that he can watch Marty and Mills while taking Emmy with him.

  I mean…I thought it was definitely implied that I didn’t want her here.

  So when he begins to leave without her, to make sure the two assholes outside aren’t starting to rip people out of their houses for answers, I almost throw the hardest thing I can find at the back of his head.

  But I refrain.

  If Marty gets into a mood, he’ll have his hands full, and with it, Mills won’t be far behind if someone fucks with him.

  “Do you have any?” Chuck presses as I notice Em hasn’t taken her attention off the both of them.

  “A little—” She tosses a credit card on the table followed by a small bag of white substance. “—important conversations need a slight push sometimes.”

  “Are you fucking—” That coming from Emmy, but I cut her off by plopping ungracefully down next to her, purposely bumping into her little frame.

  Propping my left arm over her head, I lean in, smelling her floral perfume, and to whisper in warning, “Shut up, little Em. You don’t know how to work these streets like we do.”

  I feel her body cringe as she looks over at me, brown eyes narrowed in disgust at me or Chuck or both—no clue.

  She lifts a finger to point at the soon-to-be coke-snorters in the room. “You’re seriously gonna let her—”

  “Yep.” My right hand comes to land on the inside of her thigh, releasing a soft gasp from her full lips. “If she can get some shit out of him by snorting up some blow, I’m all for it.”

  “But, Bish, that’s—”

  “Shhh…” I let my fingers trail upward, attempting to loosen her up like I always used to do, but I haven’t touched her in months.

  From time to time, I can’t help myself. I’m deathly attracted and slightly plagued with my wife.

  An ordinary person would say that’s slightly normal.

  A decent human being would give me some sort of advice to carry her close and work out our kinks.

  But I’m a walking fiasco of closed-up feelings, pent-up anger, and a raging hard-on for the blonde at my side.

  I’m a fucking nut job to put it bluntly.

  And with Emmy being here, in my old home, where the memories flood in and drown me, I also need something to keep me grounded.

  And the fucked up thing is she’s it right now.

  “Tell me what you’re doing on that laptop, Princess.”

  “Stop calling me that,” she half-ass snaps through a glare, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “It’s Em or Emmy. Emmy Lou, if you want to go—”

  “You like to argue too much with me,” I retort flatly, studying her bottom lip way too intently. “And since you were so adamant on helping, what have you been doing?”

  “Get away from me, and I’ll tell you.” She spits the words out like they’re going to do something.

  I’m not Crackhead Chuck. I’m definitely not Kyson and his sweet-natured persona that plays out for her non-stop.

  I’m her asshole husband who likes to piss her off to the point of blacked-out fury because make-up sex with her is off the charts.

  Except that was before she and I blew up, and then I proceed to fuck it up with Blue.

  “I’m comfortable right here,” I answer truthfully. Having Emmy pressed up against me and the side of the couch has my body responding to some bodily desire that I’m solely going to need to obtain on my own tonight. “Well?”

  “Holy fuck!” Chuck suddenly slams his palm on the table, causing Emmy to jolt in surprise. The dumbass leans back in his chair, wiggling his nose, clearly just taking a line of whatever the hell Blue has. “Fuck, man, that’s good shit.”

  “Wait until it kicks in.” Blue pulls down on the side of her nose and wiggles it. “They call it ‘seduce’.”

  Chuck’s brow slowly rises over his glasses. “Yeah?” Licking his thin bottom lip, the dorky appearing fucker straightens his spine and puffs out his chest. “I mean…I might not be a big dude, but I have a pretty pleasing cock.”

  Emmy promptly snorts outwardly, drawing the attention of both Blue and Chuck.

  “What are you laughing about?” Chuck pipes up, furrowing his brows as if that was the worse kind of insult she could’ve thrown at him. “You wanna see?”

  “Oh, God, no,” Emmy replies dramatically. “I’ve seen all I need to tonight.”

  “Such as?” Blue presses, raking her red locks back with her fingers. “Oh, I forgot we’re in the presence of Hampton royalty.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” Em seizes through her teeth. “Your backstory doesn’t conclude for you to have to act like a whore.”

  Blue smirks at her. “Because I like sex, I’m a whore?” She purposely flicks her eyes to me. “I’m okay with that. Your man doesn’t seem to mind either.”

  Emmy slams the screen of her laptop down before it’s suddenly hurled into my gut. I grunt from the corner of it, and before another second goes by, she’s on her feet. Her perfect ass next comes into view covered in those tight as fuck blue jeans.

  It’s like
forbidden fruit. I just want to sink my teeth and cock in it.

  “You’ve been on that kick for a long time, Blue. If you want him, have him, no one claimed shit.”

  My attention slices up to the back of her head. That comment promptly irritating me when it clearly shouldn’t.

  Emmy’s right she didn’t claim me.

  She kept me fucking hidden as if she was ashamed of me.

  “Ah, right,” Blue voices slowly, continuing with her taunting that will do nothing but keep her within the scope of Emmy’s uncontaminated hatred. “You like men with titles and fancy suits. If he doesn’t drive a Porsche or a Benz, little Emmy Lou isn’t interested.”

  My body promptly reacts before Emmy’s does because Blue’s pressed almost every button she could to get a reaction.

  And I know Emmy.

  Rising, I tuck the laptop underneath my arm and grasp her bicep to guide her outside.

  She’s being a damn distraction again and Blue’s working Chuck into talking. Not have a girl fight in my trailer.

  “What?” Emmy complains, lightly jerking out of my hold. “She fucking started it!”

  Shoving the trailer door open, Marty, Mills, and Kyson are busy smoking a blunt when I lightly shove Emmy down the steps and to her car.

  All three pairs of eyes fall on us briefly before returning back to their conversation. Seeing Emmy and I arguing is a common occurrence when we’re in close corridors of each other. It’s not something that needs rectifying or any human interaction to break it up.

  Blue might be a vixen, but Emmy is a little wildcat, and she shows it when she spins around, rips her arm out of my clutches, and glares up at me with pure violence in her honey irises.

  “Why do I always get in trouble?” she angry-whines, pointing to herself. I try my damnedest to ignore the black spaghetti shirt she’s wearing. The way it v-line dips and hugs the curves of her breasts. How easy it would be to push away the thin straps off her shoulders and see what kind of lacey assemble she’s wearing tonight.

  “Because you started it,” I counter back, letting out a sigh and letting my frustration become audible now. “Go home, Em. I don’t want you here, you happy now? I used my words to express my feelings. I don’t want you here.”

  She completely blows off my comment and lifts her shoulders weakly. “Sorta. How painful was it?”

  My nostrils flare, but she doesn’t back down.

  No, she straightens her spine, her forehead only coming up to the middle of my chest but my height has no weight against her pride and the simple fact that I could pound her into the ground.

  Emmy is a small thing with a huge mouth and an even bigger ass. I wish I could talk to it more than her lips. However, if it were my dick or lips keeping her silent, I’d be alright with that too.

  “Go. Home.”

  “Or what? Are you going to brood around and glare at me? Are you going to pretend I’m the biggest pain in your ass? Oh, wait, I already am, and I’m going to—” Swooping down, I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, getting a perfect view of what I spoke about prior.

  Emmy’s little fists immediately slam into my spine, causing nothing but a small smile to creep up my lips. “Bishop, let me down!”

  “You need some help walking apparently.”

  “Mills!” she bellows in the dead of night while there are people trying to sleep. “Get him to let me go!”

  “Shut up, Em,” I growl out, digging my fingers into her thigh. “It’s late.” She attempts to kick her feet, struggling against my hold, and my cock imagines her doing it underneath me, naked, with her long blonde hair wrapped carelessly around her head.

  “Tell him to—oof!” Letting her fall abruptly to the ground, I steady her with my hands before quickly releasing her.

  And like a fucking gentleman, I open her car door.

  “Home,” I stress out through my growing hard-on.

  Making another move on Em would mean hopping on the merry-go-round of our relationship.

  She makes me believe for a second that there’s a chance for us sometimes with the way she looks at me as if she misses me. That we can tell our friends that she and I married each other a long time ago and I’m in love with her.

  Because I am.

  I never stopped.

  However, those pondering thoughts don’t last long. I remember how it felt to believe her embarrassed by me and how I can’t just blurt my emotional state out every two seconds whenever she wants me to.

  The woman has known me for over six years, I’m not an easy egg to crack, and I sure as hell wasn’t all rainbows and gumdrops. But if she would’ve let me, would’ve considered that we’d work as we are, I would’ve been more trusting that she wouldn’t break my heart.

  “Damn, Bishop, if this is what it’s like being your wife, I can’t imagine why women aren’t lining up to take my place.”

  I grunt because no one else will ever be my wife. I’ve never wanted to own and be owned by anyone else in my life but Emmy Lou Rhodes.

  And that shit hasn’t changed in years.

  I don’t think it will anytime soon either. I just want to rest in pieces and be left alone.

  “I’ll try to do better,” I quip mockingly. “You’ll have a room full of pink flowers and your favorite—“

  “Fuck you.” She rips her laptop out of my grasp and hops into her car.

  I don’t bother waiting for her to start it, but she makes sure to express how pissed off she is because she peels out of the trailer park.

  I was kinda serious about the pink flowers.

  It’s Emmy’s favorite color, and the look on her face when she received them is—the only way I can describe it is grateful and turned on. I’ve got my dick sucked as she rode my face once when I got her an assortment of every shade of pink.

  I didn’t expect it, but I wasn’t going to turn it down either.

  Our relationship might not be conventional in the least, but Emmy is mine by law and vice versa. I just have to get my mind and dick to agree that letting her go was for the best.

  Back inside, I find Blue on her knees about to wrap her lips around Chuck’s small cock—Christ, I didn’t want to see it—and I stand in front of her, careful not to touch body parts that I particularly don’t wish to.

  She pushes that bar too fucking far. In no world would I want her to suck off some piece of shit just to get information for me.

  “Dude, what the fuck?” Chuck censures behind me.

  “Pull your fucking pants up, peckerhead. You and I are going to go meet my dog.”

  Ten minutes.

  They have all but ten minutes before I bust into that daycare and pop a cap in everyone’s ass for making me sit here.

  The other kid’s name that Bishop was looking for is Mad Dog, and with hours of skimming security footage from traffic lights and local businesses, I used a face recognition program to pin us here.

  Mad Dog went to school with the little Chuck prick, and it made sense. So, we’re at Sunny Side Up Daycare, where the plans and specs allude to a basement which Chuck said—after God knows what Bishop did to him—that this is his place of business.

  An establishment where children play during the day and cocaine is distributed at night.

  Cute.

  After gathering all the information with my baller-ass tech skill, Bishop told me that we were coming here to check it out.

  I thought he meant we would breach the operation together as a team.

  Not me getting babysat by Blue of all people in the front seat of Kyson’s blacked-out SUV.

  I’m going to kill him.

  “Take a hit and chill,” Blue asserts calmly, holding out her lit blunt between her dark blue nails. “You’re fucking with my high.”

  “You being this close to me is fucking with my composure to not hit you.”

  “Maybe that’s why you’re always worrying so much about everyone. You overthink everything, Em.”

  “Someone has to,” I
mutter, rearranging myself in the driver’s seat.

  Because you’re sure as hell not.

  “Was there a role for mama bear and you jumped at the opportunity, or do you just like being the annoying little sister?” I slowly turn my head to look at the woman I’ve wanted to throat punch since almost day one of her working at B723.

  I can get with the whole I don’t give a fuck attitude, or I have zero feelings because they’re useless.

  However, I won’t deal with the way she encourages the boys to make dumbass decisions.

  Like when she allowed Marty to walk through a crowded marketplace in Morocco to take out an influential leader who wanted another genocide. He was surrounded by men with assault rifles, yet she let Marty shank him in the neck and kill the rest of the armed guards alone.

  I mean, do I need to say he could’ve been killed?

  Or the time she told Mills to flirt with some random woman at a party and didn’t tell him she was the wife of a drug lord.

  Let’s just say he broke his leg trying to jump out of a three-story window to get out of that one. Then I punched her in the face the next time Blue, and I were in the same room.

  “Bitch, I’ve helped run a whole country,” I snarl through my teeth. “What have you accomplished besides smoking with the boys and urging them on with their impulsive ass ideas?” Blue’s perfectly pink shadowed eyes flick over to me, filling in a silent meaning of what else she’s done.

  She’s fucked Bishop.

  And she knows I want to rip her throat out for it.

  And for what?

  Honestly, good for her. She can share the title of sleeping with the man who believes emotions are scary and that he’s going to be big and bad forever.

  And he thinks I’m an idiot for believing in fairytales and unicorns.

  Besides, in the long run, Bishop isn’t someone that would go for a woman like me anyway. Blue is edgy, beautiful, dangerous in her own right. She might be a little slutty, but who am I to cast stones?

  If I enjoyed sleeping with randos, maybe I’d love to be her in another life. Except I’m not a fan of people in general, so the odds of me getting down with a few one-night stands aren’t going to happen.

  However, with the way she keeps taunting my ass, she’s gonna get herself hit again.