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“Now, bruh, I can explain.” Nate quickly gets to his feet, stepping backward with his hands up. “That was not how….” Nate looks to me, his stare evil. “Why you have to open your fucking mouth?” he grounds through gritted teeth.
I smirk.
Nate looks back to Bishop, who is looking directly at Nate with so much hate it makes what he was giving Damon seem like child’s play.
Rolling my eyes, because I actually love Nate and don’t want to plan his funeral—just yet—I interrupt. “Calm down, Bishop. It was a hard night, and you can’t say shit.”
“Oh really?” Bishop looks to me. “Because I don’t remember the last time I was sucking face with another girl since you, Mads, so fill me in here. Is that what I need to do? Start fucking around so you fucking get where I’m coming from?”
“Bishop,” I stand to my feet, “you’re being ridiculous. We’re not together. Never have been! You’re the one who said all that ‘no labels’ bullshit at the lake.”
“Didn’t know I had to outline ‘don’t be a slut,’ Madison.”
“I’m not a fucking slut!” I yell. “I haven’t slept with anyone but you, so fuck you!”
Bishop shakes his head. “Nah, you just like making guys think they can fuck you.”
“Fuck—”
“Enough.” Damon walks in, shoving his hands into his pockets, still wearing the pants he wore earlier, which reminds me why I’m actually in this room. I turn back to the closet and flick the light on, pulling Nate’s clothes out and tossing them over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” Nate asks, coming toward me. I fight down the tears that threaten to surface. Truthfully, I had no idea Bishop thought of me in that way. I knew he cared, but not so much that he’s willing to use it as a weapon during an argument. My heart feels like it’s been shanked with a blunt steak knife and then ripped up to my throat.
Swallowing my emotions, I swipe the stray tears that fell off my cheeks. Fucker made me cry, but I probably asked for it. When you fall for the devil, make sure you don’t land facedown with his horns stabbed through your heart. “I’m getting something for Damon to wear.”
I feel Nate crouch down beside me, leaning over my shoulder. “Hey—”
“Leave me alone,” I whisper, grabbing some sweatpants and a plain white shirt. Admittedly, Nate doesn’t have much else aside from assorted ripped jeans and tees.
“No, fuck that. What’s wrong? Bishop?” he whispers.
“Everything, Nate. None of this shit makes any sense to me. I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind.”
Nate chuckles, and I don’t know how, but it takes a little dark smoke out of my feels. “We’ve all lost our mind, baby, but that’s how we all found each other. We’re all lost, but we’re all lost on the same road.”
I look to him; Nate actually making sense. I giggle, sniffling. “There are not a lot of times you’ve made a hell of a lot of sense, Riverside. But you did just then.”
“We’re pirates, baby. It’s what we do. Now get your bad self up, take whatever you want, but make sure that fucker doesn’t ruin any of my clo—For the record,” he interrupts himself, “I still don’t trust him. But I’m going to trust you, on one condition.”
I nod, gripping onto the clothing and internally thanking whoever is listening that he has agreed. I mean, I would have done it anyway, but having Nate agree just means I get to go make something to eat before the sun comes up.
“Our doors are to stay open. He sleeps on the floor, and later today, he is to sit down and tell us all he can.”
I look over Nate’s shoulder at Damon, who is watching Bishop closely. Bishop, who hasn’t taken his eyes off me. I ignore him, looking back to Nate, and nod. “Deal.”
Nate gets to his feet, holding his hand out to me and helping me up. “Grilled cheese? I can hear your stomach from here.”
I exhale, leaning my head on his shoulder, feeling every muscle loosen. “Yes. Fucking God, yes.”
Walking out of the closet, I toss Damon the clothes. “Go and get changed. I’ll bring you something to eat.”
He smiles, taking the clothes and disappearing back into my room. I look at the alarm clock Nate keeps beside his bed, noting the time is 2:00 a.m. Damn, we were really talking that long? When my eyes connect with Bishop’s, I mutter, “I’ve lost my appetite.”
Nate pulls me into him. “Naw, don’t mind him.” He sends Bishop a wink. “He just doesn’t like others playing with his toys.”
“I’m not his toy.”
“I’m right here,” Bishop grunts.
“Really?” I say sarcastically. “Because I don’t see you.”
“Okay, Kitty,” Nate chuckles, tucking me under his arm. “You’re not you when you’re hungry. Let’s go.”
