Page 61 of Rise of the King (Checkmate 5)

“It’s the Bishop genes, Ginnie. Women can’t resist us.”

“Bishop?” She stops on her side of the counter and leans on her hip. “Boy, that’s not the last name you used when you flirted with her that time.”

I have a moment to panic that I just blew my cover with one tiny little slip. My sex-fogged brain and hunger-pained stomach have me spouting off at the mouth and forcing me to make mistakes. But the worry comes and goes like water over rocks. Ginnie isn’t selling me to anyone, and I’m taking Soph away in a matter of hours.

“Just a nickname, Gin. Don’t worry about it.”

“Sophia know your secrets?”

Our eyes meet across a red and white counter. “Yes, ma’am, she does.”

“Then that’s all I care about.” Smiling, she turns to the coffee machine and takes out a gallon of milk. “Want some cocoa to take back to your lair? I bet that sweet girl needs a little energy right about now.”

“Thank you, beautiful. Times two.”

“Of course.”

I sit back at the counter and take out the sugar packets that stand in holders every few feet. Counting out the packets, I line them up and think back to a time when the white substance in a line wasn’t sugar. Back when I hardly knew which way was up anymore, when I thought the dirty batch Abel tested us with would be the end of my miserable life.

I was so miserably sick, I wished for death.

I crashed on my cop friend’s couch and spewed until my stomach felt inside out. I wept for peace and fought off my friend’s hands when he was only trying to fish my tongue from my throat and save me from myself. Riley Cruz saved my life, and according to the reports I requested from Ace – from Soph – a month ago, Riley was injured in the line of duty and now walks around minus a leg. He almost died because of his heroic actions, but I nearly died because I was a junkie who took hit after hit without checking the quality anymore.

So fucking stupid.

The loud crash of glass outside has my head snapping up. My stomach jumps into my throat when squealing tires skid in the street, and Ginnie spins with a gasp, but I spring from my stool and send it whipping to the floor as I sprint across the empty diner and outside.

Black clouds of smoke billow just one block up.

“No!” I sprint against the tide, passing people running from the old Benson building, away from the inferno that engulfs the old façade and turns it to a crumbled pile of bricks.

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