Page 127 of Pawn's in the Bishop's Game (Checkmate 1)

Jess is one. Jay is the second. Flynn isn’t the third.

“Flynn.” My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I don’t take it out. I don’t show my weakness. “You ready?”

“We still have time.” He steps up in the dark. A black ski cap sits heavily over his eyes, and an arrogant smirk plays on his lips as he studies me. “Abel wants us to set up on the north side. A B-double named Betty is coming in a couple hours, so he wants us to bunker down and wait.”

“Why’d you get us here so early?”

Shrugging, he digs his hands into his pockets the way I do and turns toward the picnic area on the north side. He’s as packed down with firepower as I am; with a shoulder harness under his coat, two Lugers resting against his ribs, a bulge under the denim at his left ankle, and I have no doubt another tucked in to the back of his jeans.

As I study the small pistol strapped to his thigh, Jess’ face flashes through my mind.

I miss her already.

My addiction eats at my gut. I want her. I need her.

And I might never have her again.

Dread sits low in my belly, because I know tonight’s gonna suck.

“Abel touch down safely?”

Flynn walks ahead and gives away his nerves with a jerky shrug. “You’re his pet,Bish.You’d know his whereabouts more than I would.”

I take the knife from my pocket and flip it open. Closed. Open. Closed. “Are you sad because I’m on his Christmas card list and you aren’t?”

“Fuck you, asshole.” Walking deeper into the darkness, his shoulders bunch with anger. “Don’t talk to me. We’re here to work.”

“But we have a whole hour before we’ll see anyone. No doubt Abel has this whole place under surveillance, so we have time to chit-chat. That’s a whole hour in the dark; we could really bond, Flynn. Get to know each other. Learn each other’s secrets.”

“I already know yours, so you better back your arrogant ass up.”

“Yeah?” Smirking on the outside, shaking on the inside, I picture my beautiful Jess in bed right now. Pink underwear. Ugly stitches that still tie her skin together. Her eyes watering with worry as I stand out here with this asshole who wouldn’t hesitate for a single second to put a bullet in my brain. “What do you think you know about me? You didn’t find my diary, did you? I used the little lock it came with and everything.”

“Cute.” He rolls his eyes. “I found your girl, Bishop.” Turning just his head, his smug grin sets my blood on fire. “Not just her social media, buther.I know where she is right this second.” He lifts a brow. “I know which bed she’s in. I knowwhoshe’s in bed with. I know she’s hugging a dog right now, and I know she’s crying into her pillow because she’s worried about you. I also know she’ll never see you again.”

“You planning on killing me tonight?” I take my right hand out of my pocket and slide it around to the gun at my back. “I’m fast, and I don’t much like you. Maybe we’ll play a game of tag. Winner gets Abel. Loser gets tossed in the diesel tank.”

“Nah, I won’t kill you tonight. Abel gave me strict instructions not to.”

“You asked him if you could?”

“Of course. I don’t like subtleties. And Ihatemissed opportunities because of a stupid miscommunication. I got something for you, though.”

Stepping onto the concrete path leading to the rickety wooden table, my shoulders brush against his when he stops. “You get me a gift, Robin Hood? Steal from the rich, give to the poor?”

My finger slides along the barrel of my Glock when he reaches into his breast pocket. I’m not going down yet. I’m not going down without a fight. I might’ve accepted that I can’t have Jess, but it doesn’t mean I’m just gonna lay down and let him fuck me.

“Stand down, boy. No need to shoot me.” He pulls out a single white envelope. “I told you; a gift. From me to you.”

Stopping at the half-rotted picnic table, I step onto the seat and sit on the wooden tabletop. This place stinks of gas and body odor, days old fried food and bathrooms that haven’t been cleaned this decade. I concentrate on stilling my shaking hands before Flynn gets comfortable and takes notice.

He can’t know he has me spooked.

He can’t know he’s got the upper hand.

Elbows resting on my bent knees, shallow breaths to fight the nausea this mysterious envelope causes in my gut, I know whatever’s in there won’t be good news. There’ll be no Christmas cards or gift vouchers.

Flynn wants to hurt me. He wants to fuck with my head before we go into this shit tonight.

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