Page 77 of Renegade Ruin

“I don’t know how to be what they want me to be.” Every word is quiet, damaged, and dripping with pain.

“You don’t have to be,” I say softly.

Bishop scoffs and props himself up, so I can see the scowl painted across his face. “How can you say that? Even you want me to be the man I was before.”

My jaw drops open, but I quickly shake it off. “Is that what you think?”

Bishop nods and rests his head back on my chest. He brings his hand up and splays it across my hip, tracing circles around the bone with his thumb.

“You implied as much when you found me in the trashed locker room.”

Shit. I did. Even if it’s not what I meant, I was just as guilty of pushing him to be something he can’t be.

“I’m sorry.” My fingers stop running through his hair and coast down below his chin, tipping his head to meet my gaze. I need to ensure he hears me. “I want you to be the man I know you can be.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

Maybe there was a time when it was, but now I’m convinced it’s not. The Bishop I knew before was a glorified golden retriever. He was fierce and loved with everything he had—be it baseball, his team, his friends, or a one-night stand. The man before me still has those qualities, but fear has made him cautious. He holds on to the things he loves most with a death grip, and because of that, lashes out when he loses control. He might not be the same, but he’s still a good man. He’s shown me glimpses of that in the way he takes care of me and others. Evenif it is under the guise of our agreement. He buys me groceries and comes up with ideas to support the children of the crash and Renegade Hearts. There is no doubt in my mind that pieces of the man I knew are still in there, but now more than ever, I’m convinced that’s not who he is supposed to be. No, Bishop Lawson is meant to be a phoenix rising from the ashes. And when he does, he’ll be something more—something hardened by grief—but still the fierce protector he’s always been.

He just needs to realize it’s okay to not be the white knight. Pristine and perfect. Sometimes it’s the dark knight—hardened and damaged, but still honorable—who gets the girl.

Or in this case, the team.

“No.” I brush away a strand of hair from his forehead. “Because the man you were before was flawless. Now you’re not.”

Bishop blinks repeatedly before rolling away from me, fixating his eyes on the ceiling like the tiles are infinitely more interesting than anything I have to say. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does.” I prop myself up onto my elbows and give him a pointed look. “You think you need to be that perfect man again and you don’t. Screw whoever says you need to be. Including me. The only person you answer to is you.”

Bishop closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. “I can’t do it.”

I reach out and wrap my hand around his bicep. “You can. I believe in you.”

He doesn’t pull away but scoffs and gives me a side eye glare laced with the smallest hint of amusement. “And that’s supposed to make it all better?”

“No,” I admit, solemnly. “But it’s a start. One day you’ll get there.”

Bishop mutters something under his breath, and though I can’t be certain, it sounded a lot like “fuck one day.”

“Right now, you just need to be here. Be present. Be with me.” It’s a whispered plea, cut off by a groan from Bishop, which only serves to muddy my thoughts. While he might think I mean as a distraction, my heart wants so much more. It’s easy to keep those feelings distant and locked away when we’re lost in carnal bliss, but when he’s this close, looking at me like he can’t go on, the truth seeps out of the cracks in my walls.

I need him to keep fighting.

I need him to find his strength.

I need him.

I. Need. Him.

And that’s when my heart shatters all over again.

My eyes close, and I hope he doesn’t see the tears that threaten to fall. I won’t put this on him. He already has enough on his plate without my heart coming into play. We promised no feelings, but I lied from the start. I might be the queen of fake it till you make it. I might thrive in the distance I create to keep myself safe. But the truth is, I never stopped caring for him.

“I’m here, Kitten. Always here.”

Kitten. That damn nickname I’ve loved since the moment he gave it to me, only to have it taunt me when I can’t have it mean what it once did.

Bishop swallows hard past the thick lump in his throat and continues. “But I’m still?—”

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