Page 129 of Bishop's Queen

Her bottom lip trembled. “That wasn’t an answer.”

“It was, babe.” And he was dying inside. “Locke’s not far. I’ll get him back here. I can’t handle this right now.”

“You’re an asshole.” Ella’s voice had changed—still heartbroken, butangry. She was as mad and as ready to fight as he was. “You never make mistakes, Bishop? You never do things to blow off steam with the guys? Your job? That’s somethingwe’venever talked about.” Flames shot from her narrowed, tear-reddened eyes. “That same job, where you run around with agunon your hip, and who knows what you’ll do next after you’re done working with me. You act like I’m the only person who has to be perfect not to die! You ran from Brie straight into awar zone. Now here you are, working for some company that still might kill you. Screw you for not admitting that too.”

His fingers went numb as her truth hit him like a sledgehammer. His body followed suit, and last to go was his mind, suffering at her argument. “I’m out.”

“That’s the truth.”

Ella is right…Bishop rubbed his face. The entire time he’d been on her job, he craved the adrenaline rush that put him in danger. He’d been trained, disciplined. Though at the moment, it would be impossible to tell.

“You know what?” Didn’t matter if she was right or wrong; he still refused to watch her walk a gangplank of stupidity. “Forget it. You, me. We don’t work. This is done.”

The heaviest steps of his life took him out of that room that millions of people had now seen.

He trudged through her condo, and damn, the grip on his lungs was enough to crumble him to his knees. Or infuriate him to the point of punching a trail of holes in her wall. That would shout how much she meant to him, and she couldvlogthe shit out of it.

He just couldn’t watch her self-destruct.

Bishop dragged his hand over his mouth, throwing open the front door. Locke stood, waiting. Thank fuck for his buddy, who knew what might happen and stood ready and waiting as backup without even having been asked.

“Man, you good?” Locke asked.

“No.”

“You leaving?”

“Yes,” Bishop growled.

“It’s going to be okay, brother.”

Bishop turned around, sweeping one last look over Ella’s condo. He didn’t buy Locke’s line of bullshit for a hot minute. He let the door slam. Whatever else Locke had to say would have to wait. There were less than twenty-four hours until they needed to be in New York City for the Capri Awards with Ella and Tara, and the thought of wearing one more tuxedo was enough to make him lose his mind.

---