“Hey, hey!” he called, trying to break up the fight, but Bishop put his arm out to block him. “Bishop, what the fuck?”
“Aw, come on… Let the man get a few good hits in,” Bishop said, jerking his chin toward the spectacle. “He put his hands on Josie.” There was a smirk on his face as he watched Ellis try to break out of Lincoln’s hold. I didn’t know why, or if there was even a reason, but he hated the fucker almost as much as I did.
And maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was adrenaline, but there was something about that simple move that was stupidly hot.
I was clearly not in my right mind, because there was no way I was letting myself daydream about Bishop Bryant.
“Can’t risk the bar being sued, dumbass,” Davey muttered, barreling through Bishop’s blockade. Lincoln stepped back with his hands up, welcoming Josie as she wrapped her arms around him. Two other men grabbed Ellis, trying to drag him out, but he broke free and made a dash toward my sister.
Lincoln tried to break their fall, but they both landed in a tangle of limbs. Ellis lunged forward, calling my sister a bitch and shouting promises of lawsuits from the top of his lungs.
Fuck that.
I stepped between them, reaching Ellis before Davey even had a chance. Without another thought, I shoved the toe of my brand-new boots into his balls. “Piece of shit,” I spat as twolarge arms wrapped around my middle. The scent of sage and honey and very bad decisions filled my senses as I was pulled tightly against a warm, broad chest.
“Easy there, killer,” Bishop chuckled. His deep, throaty tone sent shivers down my spine. “I think you’ve done enough damage.”
I watched Davey pick Ellis off the floor and drag him through the front doors. The crowd parted, some laughing and clapping the moment his wailing faded away. Josie pulled Lincoln to the corner, fussing over him like he’d been in a knock-down, drag-out brawl when it could barely be classified as a bar fight.
“Lemme go,” I said, struggling in Bishop’s hold.
“Have it your way,” he said, untangling himself from my middle and letting me drop.
The sound I made was somewhere between a yelp and a squeal—I couldn’t be sure. I wasn’t in the habit of making it.
I spun around, ready to dig into him for letting me drop, when I saw a smile on his lips. An actual smile—not that fake, public shit some people put on. No, this had wrinkles forming near his temples, his eyes full of a weird playfulness. He covered his mouth with a hand, shoulders shaking with restrained…laughter?
“Was that a laugh?” I asked, peering up at him. He dropped his hand and tucked it inside the pocket of his jeans. “Like, an honest-to-Godlaugh? Oh my god. Who are you?”
Bishop closed his eyes. “Why do you have to be so weird about shit?”
“Because I don’t know if I’ve ever heard that sound from you. Should I be worried? Do we need a doctor?”
“It was just a laugh, Lennox. Nothing to make a fuss over.”
I crossed my arms. “You’re not programmed to laugh, so this obviously means one of two things.”
He leaned his elbow on the table. “Alright, let’s hear them.”
“One,” I said, holding up my pointer finger, “aliens have abducted you. This is some kind of body double situation.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Or two, you’ve been possessed. I’d wager it’s a demon, given your overall dislike of, well, everything, and your grumpy disposition.”
Bishop shook his head. “Where the fuck do you come up with this shit?”
I shrugged. “Unlike some people—and I’m not naming names, of course—I read books withwords, not just pictures. I know it’s a crazy concept. Maybe if you tried it some time, you could learn a thing or two.”
“Are you saying I can’t read?” he asked. He seemed offended, which was weird because that was exactly what I was saying. I’d never seen Bishop read anything besides whiskey bottles and feed labels.
“I already told you I wasn’t naming names, Bish,” I said, raising my hand to mimic zipping my lips tight.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Cleo walking up. She placed her hand in the crook of my elbow. “Let’s go check on Josie,” she said, chewing on her cheek. “I want to make sure she’s okay.”
“Yeah, I guess we’ll need to settle our tabs. Davey doesn’t call the cops but has a no-bullshit policy. Lincoln’ll be kicked out for the night,” I said.
Bishop stuck his hands in his pocket. “Well, are y’all wanting to stay? There are plenty of familiar faces here tonight. We could probably catch a ride if you wanted to.”
