Page 43 of Shadowed Whispers

I glare at Bishop. “What fucking game are you playing?” I hiss.

Bishop leans back, a smirk playing on his lips as he casually drapes an arm over the back of the booth. “So we’re dropping the act?” he asks, his voice tinged with mock curiosity. “Fascinating. Tell me, is my cum still in your panties?”

I’m going to kill him.

I’m going to sever his balls using a rusty scalpel after tying him down to a rock where the ocean batters the shoreline. Then, I’m going to watch him bleed out, each wave taking more and more of his blood.

Yes, then I’ll cut off his?—

“I guarantee she’s imagining killing me.” Bishop smirks. “Tell me, did my balls come off first this time?”

“Fuck you,” I hiss.

His laugh rolls over me. “Oh, firefly, I did that already today. Are you that needy?”

“Hey, kids, what can I get you to drink?” Saved by the waitress. He’s lucky.

“Chocolate shake and fries,” I say and glare at Bishop. “His tab.”

“Sounds great, I’ll have the same.” Bishop continues to wave that stupid smirk in my face.

“For us as well,” Leo says, and I swear he’s trying not to laugh.

“You are making this awkward,” I hiss to Bishop as the waitress walks away. My hands clench the table to keep me from throttling him.

“I don’t think I am, firefly,” he whispers. “In fact, I don’t think I’m making it awkward enough,” he says darkly. “I want you to prove you three are dating.”

Matteo’s hand squeezes me once before his thumb continues to make soft comforting circles.

“I don’t have to prove a damn thing to you,” I spit at him.

“I don’t want you to make out with them.” He tsks under his breath, leaning closer, his voice barely a whisper over the din of the diner. His eyes gleam with a hint of challenge. “No, baby, I want them to make you come.”

Chapter 15

Matteo

The dull drone of chitchat fades as a hum intensifies in my ears. An all-consuming blackness lurks at the edges of my consciousness, but I fight against it, steadying my hand, my expression, and my breath as I withdraw from its allure.

Frankie’s muscles twitch delicately beneath my fingers, pulling me back from the edge just in time for Bishop’s words to invade my eardrums, and she stiffens beneath my touch.

There’s an undercurrent here, a challenge he keeps issuing to her. It’s a power play that continues to disturb Frankie, who might not technically be our girl but has inadvertently become the center of our universe.

I don’t like it, and I’ve given him three chances.

“Matteo.” Leo’s voice draws my attention. Ever so slowly, I adjust my head and peer at Leo over the top of Frankie’s hair. He gives me a discreet shake of his head, but his lips twitch.

Is that a no to hurting Bishop?

I want to hurt him and make him bleed. I want to taste his blood, turn his body to ash, and then let the wind scatter it to all four corners of the world.

Ignoring Leo, I dip my head to her ear, savoring the way her breath hitches as I inhale her scent—coconut and vanilla. She’s sweet, so fucking sweet, and there is just a hint of darkness that creeps in like a crisp breeze. It reminds me of home.

Not home in Maine, but home in New Delhi—a time from long ago that I’ve almost forgotten. Almost.

“Tell me now, and I’ll kill him for you,” I whisper for her ears only.

Frankie gasps, turning to look at me, but I haven’t moved, so now our lips are dangerously close.

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