Page 13 of Bishop

Chatter and laughter filled my ears as my sister Diamond ran to greet me followed by Summer.

“We got them crawfish simmering round back sis,” Diamond’s arms squeezed me into her warm embrace and her perfume that smelled of vanilla and warm sugar engulfed my senses.

“Stop hogging her,” Summer beamed at me from over Diamond’s shoulder.

By the time we wound up round back, I saw everything had been set up nice and neat. My brother Benny was just dumping out the crawfish boil into a steaming red pile.

“I ain’t had no bugs in a long while,” I hugged my momma who had on a cute little apron.

“We’re so happy you’re home Emmy!”

I was just about to reply when a motorcycle’s engine cut through the music and fun. Everyone stopped and got up to peer into the front yard.

A sharp gasp caught in my throat at the sight of Zane Bishop in my yard.

“Who in the world is that?” My mother had her hand over her eyes, trying to shield them from the sun that was sinking lower and lower.

I couldn’t even reply, just watched as the man who’d bullied me in high school got off his bike and sauntered up to me with a bouquet of roses.

“Evening, Emmy…”

ZANE

The fact that Kirk Zillerman had ever thought this was going to go to trial, fucking amused me. There was no way in hell I was going to jail when the man deserved to have his ass kicked for what he’d done.

And it wasn’t’ that I didn’t trust Emmy’s fine ass to do her job. I knew she was more than capable; I’d looked her up on Google. My curiosity had gottten the better of me and I’d seen that she had a relatively great record. She’d even gotten a man out of prison as recently as six months ago.

Quietly, along with Bo and Butch, I’d parked my bike down the road from Kirk’s house. He was going to figure out what it meant to play with a Sinner.

“You think his wife’s home?” Bo asked casually.

“Nope, she’s at her Pilates class,” I said, confidence filling my gut.

While I’d been doing my Google search on Emmy’s delicious ass, I’d also gone on Zillow. Kirk had recently bought the dump he and his wife were living in three months ago. It was a small bungalow style house on the other side of the Treme at the end of a road with no way out.

I’d memorized the basic layout and knew there was a set of French doors in the back.

I led the way with Bo and Butch flanking either side of me. We crept through the neighborhood, quiet as mice. By the time we reached the back of Kirk’s house, a dog had started barking next door through a fence.

The neighbor hollered at him to shut up and Bo chuckled low and deep. The anticipation to beat the fuck out of Kirk was palpable.

Coming to the back doors, I found them slightly ajar and looked back at the twins who shook their heads.

People were constantly wondering how in the hell they got robbed in broad daylight.

We crept in, careful not to be discovered too soon. The house smelled like old bacon grease and there was a faint sound of the television playing in the other room.

Easing my gun out, I whispered over my shoulder. “This is just a good old fashion ass whoopin…y’all keep an eye out.”

The twins nodded in unison and I turned away from them. Surveying the living room, I found no one there but then sounds hit me coming from the bedroom.

The faint sounds of moaning…

I stopped in my tracks because I was more than sure that his wife was at her Pilates meeting tonight and then she’d grab a meal from the supermarket. It was all over her social media. The woman lived by a schedule.

“Fuck it,” I mumbled softly.

Strolling down the hallway, I found myself kicking the bedroom door open.

---