Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
“What do we both know?” I can’t believe I’m hearing this, and I guess that’s on me. I should know better.
Her cheeks go as red as her hair, though her clear, green eyes hold my gaze without blinking. “Don’t make me say it.”
“I want to hear it. What are you thinking? What do you think I’m capable of?”
“No. You will goad me into a fight about this. I… I need to think.” She pushes her way past me into the bedroom and throws open her closet door.
Coward. “Don’t walk away from me,” I warn, following her.
“I’m getting dressed, not walking away from you.” She won’t look at me, though, will she? Hiding her face in a rack of shirts.
“I think I’m starting to understand,” I tell her, blocking the doorway so she can’t get around me this time. “You can fuck me, but you still think you’re better than me. Do I have to remind you of what you’re capable of?”
“Don’t do this,” she whispers. Her fists tighten around the sleeves of two sweaters.
“When it came down to it, Allie, you were just as vicious and deadly as any Bishop has ever been. So don’t act all high and mighty now, like your hands are clean. They are just as dirty as mine have ever been. And if you think Emma would never do something like that,” I add, “I think you need to wake the fuck up. She was going to sell you to the highest bidder.”
“You’re not going to turn this around on me.” She whirls around, red-faced, eyes watery, and jabs a finger into my chest. “You’re not going to make her sound like—” She cuts herself off, mouth hanging open.
My chin lifts. “What? Go ahead. What were you going to say? Who did I make her sound like? A Bishop?” I whisper, watching her flinch. “A filthy, murdering Bishop? They’re good enough to fuck, but not good enough to trust?”
“That is not what I said! Stop putting words into my mouth.”
“It’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? You’re still better than us. Better than me.” I don’t know where all this comes from, but it spews up, and I can feel it melting all the goodwill I’ve earned with her lately.
I know when she snarls that something broke between us. I don’t think it can be fixed. Right now, I don’t care, either. Not when we never had anything real. How could we? How could she care when she can’t accept who I am?
“You wanna hear what I’m really thinking?” she snaps. “What I’ve been wondering about all this time?”
“Let me have it.”
“How the hell could I have brought that lamp down on his head, hard enough to kill him, when I was lying pinned under him? How about that? And how the hell did you just happen to be there when I woke up? Why don’t I remember doing it?”
“Obviously, you have an idea about it.”
She’s trembling. Her whole body is flushed when she barks, “You’re fucking right I do! I think you did it.”
She finally said it. I wish I could say I’m surprised. “It wouldn’t be the first thing you’ve ever been wrong about.”
“Wrong? I’m starting to wonder. Don’t act like everything you’ve done has been for me, either,” she whispers fiercely, almost spitting the words out in my face. “Who walks in on a situation like that and immediately thinks about how he can use it for himself? Only you would do that. Right away, you figured you would use it as leverage. So now, I’m supposed to believe you wouldn’t have those guys killed to make sure we knew how much we need you?”
“Why wouldn’t I tell you if I did?”
“Maybe for the same reason you won’t admit you killed Jackson.”
Unbelievable. She is still this fucking deluded. “You know what? If that’s what you need to tell yourself, go right ahead. I killed him. I’m the reason for all of this. Because that’s what Bishops do, right? Murder comes naturally to us.”
I need to stop. Need to stop this now. But I’m too pissed to think straight. “Because you’re still so fucking high and mighty, you think you’re above all that,” I snarl close enough to her face that she has to lean back. “I hate to burst your bubble, but you aren’t. And let’s face it. You love rolling around in the dirt with me when it’s fun for you. But as soon as shit gets real, you make sure I know we aren’t the same. And you know what? You’re fucking right, we’re not.”
I need to get out of here. Now. How could I have been so fucking stupid all over again? Who am I trying to kid? I’ve always known what she thought about me, what she really felt, and I tried to make myself believe something different. This time, I have nobody to blame but myself.