Page 129 of Pawn's in the Bishop's Game (Checkmate 1)

I flip through dozens of photos of her private parts, but for the first time ever, I don’t grow wood from seeing them. These images, purely pornographic in nature, don’t turn me on. They make me sick. Images of his dick in her pussy. His dick in her ass. Hand prints on her flesh. Hair fisted and her head tugged back so far, tears glisten on her cheeks.

These aren’t consensual.

These aren’t even a BDSM lifestyle with two consenting adults.

These are rape.

These are the bad screams.

Flipping to the final few images, I stop on one in the street. The fact they’re dressed shocks me. Long platinum blonde hair cascades down her back from a high ponytail. Jeans. Sneakers.

Her hand tucked in another man’s.

Her eyes – looking into his.

Her lips – on his.

“No.”

“Yes.” Giddy with power, Flynn knocks my shoulder with his. “Look at the date. I took these for you, Bishop. Just today. Tonight.”

I look at the timestamp. “You could’ve manipulated this. This could be from any time.”

“See…” Sitting back with a childish laugh, he flicks his fingers. “I knew you’d say that. I knew you wouldn’t believe. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, like you’re her hero or some shit. I knew you’d call foul, so I ran up the street and got a newspaper. Double timestamped. Next image, please.”

Don’t do it. Don’t do it, Bishop. Don’t let him break you.

I flip to the next image and experience my first ever heartbreak. His tongue in her mouth, his hand – that same tattooed hand from the beginning of the stack – squeezing her ass to the point of pain.

Then Flynn. With a fucking newspaper in his hands, standing in the foreground with a stupid grin on his face.

The next image, the same as the last, but the couple separating. Her eyes staring straight into the camera. Straight into mine. And guilt splashed all over her face.

Her hand in his; her walking toward the camera, but him tugging her toward the office building in the main street.

He doesn’t know they’re being photographed.

But she knows.

She knows she’s been caught.

“Kinda stings a little bit, huh? She left your place, said she was going to work, but instead, she met her man at his office. But the best part is… are you ready for this? Are you ready?” Giddy to the point of giggling, his chest bounces with glee. “Guess what he does for a living?”

He’s a real estate agent.

“He’s a real estate agent! Ain’t that just a bitch?”

I tuck the wad of images back into the envelope and breathe through the feral rage simmering in my blood. I don’t even know who I’m mad at.

Unbelievably, I don’t even think I’m mad at Jess. I’m hurt that she didn’t tell the truth, but I’m not mad she’s looking at regular guys. Notguys like me.Not guys like him, either, if he’s the one hurting her at the club.

I’ll deal with him before I die.

I have a list of men who’ll be coming to Hell with me, and that man, the one hurting the girl who has my heart, will die.

She can try again. With someone else. Someone better.

Not in that club.

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