Page 35 of Renegade Rift

Yet.

Bishop on the other hand, may have some answers I need.

I shift my weight behind the bench, and in a spectacular bout of word vomit, sputter, “You played with Tyler, right?”

“Your brother?” He exhales a harsh breath as he raises the bar. “Yeah. For a couple seasons.”

“What was he like on the team?”

Bishop’s brows knit together. “Why do you ask?”

“Honestly? I’m trying to piece together what happened between him and Juliet.”

“Did you ask her?” He grunts, lifting the bar up again and thankfully missing my grimace.

“I’m not exactly someone she trusts.”

“And was that before or after you paid off a million-dollar debt?”

“Fucking Willow,” I mutter.

“Hey.” He growls. Replacing the bar, he snaps up and faces me. “That’s not only your team owner but my future wife you’re cursing.”

My jaw drops a beat before spreading into a genuine smile. “You got plans to ask her something?”

“Not anytime soon.” A mischievous grin tips the right side of his lips as he reaches for his water and takes a sip. “But when you know, you know.”

“Can’t relate.” I chuckle.

“You will someday.” He says it like it’s a fact, but honestly, I’m not so sure. As much as I’d love to have what he and Willow have—because frankly, it’s sickening how perfect they are for each other—I’m not sure that’s in the cards for me.

“But to answer your question.” Bishop gets this far off look, like he’s glancing into the past. “I hate to speak ill of the dead…”

“But…”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he prefaces. “Tyler was a great first baseman, but as a teammate and overall human he was the worst.”

A guttural “Ha” bubbles from me. If only he knew.

“No, what I mean is—” He rubs the back of his neck and I’m hanging on his every word. “Fuck, I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”

“Believe me, there is no love lost between me and Tyler. I’m just trying to understand.” I swear if he leaves me hanging, captain or not, he’s going to get a piece of my mind. “This isn’t about me. It’s for Juliet.”

Bishop hops off the weight bench and stands, jerking his head in a “follow me” manner.

We walk in silence out of the weight room toward the clubhouse showers, stopping in a deserted hallway. “I can’t prove anything, but Tyler was the kind of player who lived up to the notion of hoes in every area code.”

“He—” My words die on my lips, rage striking like lightning through my veins. I instantly regret leaving the weight room. At least there I could punch something without it being a cement wall. Then again, punching things is how I ended up where I am now.

“Whoa, McCoy, take a breath.”

It takes five before I’m able to speak. “He was cheating on Juliet?”

Bishop’s face twists as he nods.

Shit. Does she know? Do I have to be the one to tell her now?

These are questions for when I can think past my need to hit something.

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