by Hazel Grace
My tongue darts out and licks a trail up to the mushroom head and Bishop’s hand finds the back of my head, forcefully guiding me to take him in.
My teeth purposely scrape down him and he growls, hardening his grip on my hair. He thrusts inside, hitting the rear of my throat and I gag. Tears begin to build as he slowly withdraws and moans while my wet lips glide over his width.
His grasp loosens and he allows me to suck him off at my own pace.
Bobbing my head around his thick shaft, I work the bottom with my index and thumb, using my saliva to lube him. My tongue licks and tastes him and he twitches needily in my mouth. I hum in appreciation and Bishop’s fingers tighten a bit.
He doesn’t speak, just feels, and the time spent on my knees on the hard kitchen floor begins to punish me too. It’s easy to ignore than the reality in front of me and Ledger I have to face tomorrow.
Taking him deeper, I’m careful not to scrape my teeth against the intrusion in my small mouth but I don’t on the way out. I purposely allow my sharp whites to abrade a tad along his dick again.
He grabs another batch of my hair. “Do it again.” I follow his order and then he drags my mouth off his shaft to peer up at him, way up to practically the ceiling from what it looks like down here. “You look so pretty down there, wife.”
My body blazes at the name—the one he gave me and wanted.
“I want you to file for the divorce.” His crystal blues penetrate through me and I strain to breathe. “I signed them for a reason and now I have even more of one.”
My jaw trembles and my heart cracks into a million shards but Bishop’s grip is unrelenting.
“Open up wider.” I glare at him before one of his hands wrap around my jaw and squeezes. “There you go. Always fiending for me no matter what.”
I jerk my head but his thumb runs gently down my cheek, mixing my anger with remorse.
With one palm in my hair and the other under my chin, Bishop fucks my mouth without mercy. He groans and drops his jaw, never straying his focus from me as he watches me take his dick.
My cell rings in my room, and I mindlessly begin to rise to grab it, but Bishop’s hold keeps me with him in my mouth.
“Finish me off first,” he commands. I shake my head and look up but he shows no sign of giving a shit. “You better hurry then.”
I deepthroat and squeeze, punishing him now and within another minute or two, he’s coming warm strings down my throat and makes me swallow every bit before releasing me.
With shaky legs, I somewhat sprint for my room to grab my phone, hearing Bishop mess with his zipping up his pants. The call was from Marty, and when I go back to tell Bishop—for some stupid reason—I expect him to be waiting for me.
But instead, I find his body halfway out of my apartment before the door clicks closed behind him.
I can’t get her out of my head and how she feels and smells around me. I’m not able to shove this aside and truly mean what I say because Emmy is alive and well.
And currently getting her ass chewed out by Ledger behind the closed door of his office.
Standing beside my best friend, Kyson remains silent with his arms crossed along his chest, staring into space and into his own thoughts.
Mine are just as muddled and worn out because we grieved her and came up with our own personal plans to get through this. I punched my brother in the middle of the night just because I believed that the woman I loved was dead from alleged birthing complications.
Then everything quickly went downhill and my actions could’ve caused another missing person from B723.
I should regret almost taking out Mills more than I do. He was faithful and always has been to Emmy.
However, he saw everything we were enduring in our own simple and fucked up ways, and I didn’t think I’d make it another ten years without her.
It got that dark.
I even looked up a place to retire because killing random assholes and saving the country only reminded me of shit I didn’t want to ponder about every two seconds. The job that I began with the red-headed freak next to me was ruined because she died and then lied.
“I’m going to go…” Kyson trails off, causing me to glance over at him raking his hand through his hair, and looking completely beside himself.
“You didn’t see her yet.” Why should he give her the satisfaction of an out? “Actually…there’ll obviously be plenty of time for that.”
“She looks different?” He looks over at me, worry and sadness clouding his gold eyes.
“Yeah.” I nod. “She dyed her hair and cut it. She looks a little thinner, but she’s…still Emmy.”
“What are we gonna do?” He means Alexander because there would be no way I’d be doing this alone now. Not after Marty learned the truth and Kyson broke the drywall downstairs with his fist when he confirmed the story with me that he got from Lucien.
“Make it hurt.”
“Don’t keep her out of it,” he justifies. “This started with her.”
I scoff. “She needs to learn a lesson.”
“And you’ll be the lesson if you don’t let her be the one to give him his final breath. He tried to kill her and her children.” Just the imagination that I’ve created of how he did it and where she was, plays and fucks with my head since I found out. “It’s her revenge…you were collateral damage for sticking your nose in where it shouldn’t have been.”
“Something felt off like I said.” I lean more against the wall and stare at a painting that Emmy gave Ledger a few years back for some reason or another.
It’s the silhouette of a couple, close together and dancing in browns and reds. People stand in the background but the way the man and woman stare at each other, that’s the end game for them.
Each other.
“Because you love her,” Kyson lays out. “More than any of us.” His tone is light and unaccusing but it still makes me feel cornered and like a piece of shit myself.
So I lay all my cards on the table, so I’m not added to the list of fuck-ups with Emmy to the group.
“I better,” I vouch through my clamped jaw. “I’m married to her.”
I’m fully expecting Ky to stand in front of me, foaming from the mouth and looking like a ramped dog wanting to kill me for touching the precious Emmy Lou Rhodes. But the painting still remains in front of me, and silence shrouds the room.
“But not for long,” I add on to calm down whatever crazy emotions might be sprinting through his head. We don’t need both of us out of sorts and emotionally unstable.
“Why?” His simple, one-word question is more complicated than just that.
It makes no sense to want to divorce Emmy just when I have her back. When I found out about the so-called Mills father bit, I still wanted her.
But now that she’s someone I can scream and hate for making me go through all those uncomfortable things, I don’t want anything to do with her.
All lies.
Everything was a fucking lie.
“There’s no reason to be married to her anymore,” I reply.
Kyson bristles but doesn’t press any further. “I’ll call you later. I need some fucking air.”
He takes off, and I wish I could go with him, but I can’t pry myself from the wall.
I’m not able to physically remove myself from a football field from Emmy when I know she’s going to go off and kill Alexander.
And try to do it before I do.
It’s not that she wants to perform the act, I don’t give a fuck about that but because Kyson is right, it started with her.
So I remain in my spot so that nothing else can happen to her. My nightmares warn me that I have a second chance and she’s still meddling in danger right now.
And not just her—her twins too.
Twins, twins…twins that aren’t mine.
How would it feel for a mother to have to kill the father of her children? The betrayal that she laid at my feet hurts enough but the man who was
supposed to be at her side to raise not just one but two children? Who turned on you and decided you didn’t deserve to walk the face of the Earth anymore.
I’m sorry. I missed you…so much.
She doesn’t know what her words did to me yesterday. How they upset me because I missed her too.
How I kept reliving all the things coursing through my head in the time she was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Now I can.
And I don’t know what to do with it.
I want her out of my life and I want to punish her for breaking my heart. I need to feel her against me and kiss every inch of her skin and claim her as mine.
She’s my wife.
She’s the woman I’ve wanted for years.
She’s the only thing that doesn’t make sense but everything I want.
This woman has a hold on me that is past the meaning of aggrieving but my love for her is so strong that it's willing to push past and deal with it.
The door to Ledger’s opens and out comes a defeated and teary-eyed Emmy Lou who looks like she just battled through a wall of words and straight bitching from our commander.
Her browns fall on me immediately within seconds of clearing the doorway and she wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. Ledger appears behind her and meets my gaze, then nods.
He doesn’t want her out of anyone’s sight.
Emmy walks to the elevator and I follow, not that I wasn’t going to whether Ledger silently asked me to or not.
When Emmy pivots to press the button to the bottom floor, she tenses and suits up for me. “What the hell do you want?”
“You didn’t think you’d get to walk around freely, did you?” I press up into the back wall, watching her burrow herself closer to the corner where the buttons are.
She doesn’t respond, resting the side of her forehead along the wooden paneling and sighs.
When we reach the bottom floor, I allow her to step out first and act like her overly-sized shadow.
She doesn’t stop nor bothers to hold the door open for me when she escapes the building. And when she gets to the driver’s side of her Jeep, I pluck the keys out of her hand.
“Give them,” she seizes out, pivoting to snatch them out of my grip.
It’s cute how she thinks her little five-foot-four ass is going to get shit that I barely have to stretch my arm out to keep from her claws.
“I’m driving,” I deadpan.
“You can drive the fuck out of here with your own vehicle, Bish.” Her red-rimmed eyes stand in challenge to mine and she doesn’t move from the door.
In fact, she barricades herself in front of it like I can’t just pick her up and remove her myself.
Yeah, that’s Emmy for you.
No one ever told her that her small stature was a disadvantage at times when she needed some strength to go at someone bigger.
I think someone gave her a little too much confidence in that area and I know it wasn’t me. I liked her the way she was, easily removed or positioned into all sorts of ways.
“Keys,” she instructs, holding out her palm. “Now.”
“Or what?”
Yeah, I should’ve seen it coming.
Emmy is emotional and angry as fuck right now. And after using her mouth to get off then in the middle of it telling her I wanted a divorce because I was pissed, I’m more than likely the last person she wants to see right now.
Her fist slams into my side and a surprised grunt escapes my throat.
That’s what.
“Get in the car, Rhodes,” I leer. “Or I’ll put you in myself.”
A mirthless laugh escapes her lips. “Or what?”
I roll my eyes and wrap my arm around her, lifting her off the ground and open the back door.
Tossing her inside like a duffle bag, I close it and hop in the front seat, listening to her continue to bitch and complain.
I quickly get out of the parking lot but don’t even hit the road before Emmy’s forearm wraps around my neck.
“Get out of my car. I’ve had enough of you for the week.”
“Get your arm off me, Emmy, or I’m going to fuck you into learning to keep your hands to your fucking self.”
“And I’m just going to choke you out at twenty miles an hour as to do minimal damage to my car. Followed by the aftermath of the tuck and roll you’ll be doing out of it will only result in some road burn.”
“I’m taking you home.”
“I know the way.”
“And packing your shit up.”
“No thanks,” she retorts, then tightens her hold a tad. “I’m a big girl. I can do it myself when I’m ready.”
I meet her eyes in the rearview mirror when we get to a stoplight, and thank fuck, the windows are slightly tinted.
“Yeah, baby, you’re a big girl that can take a big cock in your mouth, but you also made a massive mistake that no one on B723 is going to forgive and forget right now. You’re not leaving our sight until Alexander is in the ground. And, then…you can do whatever you want.”
She stares at me, realization exposed on her features that she’s not in this alone. Everyone knows now.
“I want to be alone,” she mutters, and I swear I hear the hopelessness in her words.
“Can’t.” The light turns green and we’re back on our way to her temporary place.
I want her to stay with me, but I don’t want the heat on her back to come to my family.
I already did that myself.
I’m sending them to Disney World to not spook Scarlett and Hardy agreed that it’d be a good idea.
After a few more minutes, I hit another light and that’s when the overhang light turns on in the SUV.
Then the back door slams shut.
Looking to my left, Emmy is sprinting across the street, making this a hunt now because this woman just can’t make anything simple for me.
Blowing the light, I turn left and almost plow into an oncoming vehicle. It doesn’t take long to catch up to Emmy pounding the pavement as she focuses straight ahead. I half-ass park the car and bolt from the front seat.
My stride and height work to her disadvantage yet again, and there aren’t any people around to call the cops at my throwing her over my shoulder and back to her Jeep.
Emmy’s fists mercilessly hit my spine. Her legs kick and flair in no particular direction before I get her into the backseat and crawl in next to her.
“Emmy Lou fucking Rhodes,” I growl in her general direction. “You’ve gone and pushed the wrong button this time.”
Everything is a fucking mess, and I have no one to blame but myself. Ledger is beside himself with relief and pointed out that I was practically Judas to the whole team.
Judas, in the sense that I’m a scheming liar who only thought of myself and how I was going to handle Alexander when I had an entire squad that I still slightly believe would get in my way.
And to make matters worse, Bishop has hired himself to be my fucking babysitter.
Or he thinks he did.
“Emmy Lou fucking Rhodes,” he snarls through heavy panting of my making him run through the streets. “You’ve gone and pushed the wrong button this time.
“Yeah—“ I release a shaky exhale. “—I don’t fucking care.”
His arm wraps around my middle then, and I’m straddling his wide lap in the next second. “You’re getting too impulsive for my liking,” he grounds out. “And we need to get your fucking hearing checked.”
“We’ll go together.”
His hand on the base of my spine pulls me forward so that my chest is pressed against his. “I would’ve helped.”
My brows knit because I know what he means, but that was the whole point of not asking him to help.
I’m aware that I wouldn’t have had to ask twice, and I’m tired of explaining the why’s and how’s of my previous plan.
Were they stupid, obviously, but I can’t change them now.
“Emmy�
��” I peer down at him, finding that his expression has softened a tad, but it does nothing because he can flick his crazy back on at any given moment.
“What?”
“You promised.” His tone is gentle and almost pained as he stares up at me with a defeated look.
I did promise.
I told him I’d take care of myself and the babies. That I’d be happy.
But how can you go to someone who broke your heart and expect them to help with other things? How could I trust that?
He’s never hurt you any other way before other than the one you wanted him to delve in—my heart.
“I can’t take back what I did,” I emit. “I did it to protect my children and me. You never would’ve let me do it. Your ass would’ve been in the car and raced into God knows what at the time. You’ve seen what’s around him. Alexander is no dummy.”
“Maybe. But you have ways of calming me down.”
“You weren’t there.”
“Because you called Mills.”
“We weren’t talking anymore, and you were avoiding me. I didn’t—“
“I would’ve never of abandoned you, Emmy.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” My jaw twitches from the beginnings of a forming sob. “He was my best bet. The one that I wouldn’t have to argue with the longest. I was kinda bleeding to death and shit. I had kids to get out of me.”
“You didn’t give me a chance.”
“I gave you plenty of chances in my life,” I counter, steeling those words into my brain so I don’t feel so bad. “All I did was lay myself out there for you to trample on and you did. Maybe not intentionally, but I needed a guarantee, and Mills was it.”
“Are you going to hold that against me for the rest of my life?” His fingers splay against my back, and I’m not sure if he notices, but he’s brushing my spine in slow and gentle movements.
“Yes—maybe. I haven’t thought about it, I’ve been too busy. I didn’t want you getting hurt, and I had a lot on my plate. Trust me when I say…I don’t know how I would do it if it happened to me again.”