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“What the fuck!” I slam my fist against the wall and kick up from my seat. I don’t know what the fuck is going on between the two of them, but whatever it is, they need to sort it out before I lock them both in a cell on Perdita and throw away the key.
Actually, that’s not a bad idea.
Brantley and I both fly down the hallway and jog down the stairs from the third level, down to the second, and then down to the first. My feet hit the foyer when I hear Madison screaming from down the main hallway—coming from Luce’s office.
Brantley stills when he realizes that they’re in there, but then Tillie’s voice comes through and we both rush forward.
“What the fuck, Bishop! You selfish fucking—”
“Enough!” I snap, entering the room, my heart erratic and my eyes checking over Tillie quickly to make sure she’s not hurt. Be awfully unfortunate to have to turn on a brother…
Madison runs toward me, her arms wrapping around my waist.
“Shut the door,” I order Brantley, even though this is his fucking house and Bishop is the leader. But the leader is damaged right now, so naturally, I’m going to have to step up.
I press my lips to Madison’s head, my fingers curling under her chin to lift her face to mine. “Who do I need to kill?”
Tears pour freely over her swollen cheeks. She’s always so painfully beautiful, but it’s hard to notice that when Tillie is in the same room.
“It’s nothing.”
“Madison…” Tillie urges.
Madison swipes at her tears. “It’s nothing. I cheated on Bishop, so he hates me and we’re over and that’s why we’re fighting. I’m going home now.”
“Hold up!” I pull her back by her arm when she tries to take off. Because that’s what she’s good at—running. Except now she’s running on my patience and if it’s true, that she really did cheat on Bishop, then she and I will really have a problem. Because I’m a hypocrite like that—she can only cheat with my cock. Could. I’d never touch her now or ever.
“Nate!” Madison screams. I flinch, letting her go. She quickly bolts out the door, disappearing into the dark and I honest to God have no fucking idea what to say, so I bring my eyes to Tillie.
“Tell me everything, now.”
Tillie glares at me in defiance. “I’m not telling you shit.” Then she barges out of the room, leaving Bishop, Brantley, and Eli in here with me, standing around like what the fuck just happened.
“Bravo, boys. Way to choose your women…”
“Shut the fuck up, Eli,” I snap.
“Crazy girls fuck better.” Bishop chuckles, swiping his mouth. “But they don’t know shit about love.”
“Is it true?” I ask Bishop, wanting to hear his side.
He flings his arms out wide. “Yep. Saw it with my own eyes.”
I drop down onto the sofa, my hand running through my hair. “I swear to fuck, these girls are aging me every day. Between Tillie and—all of that—” My eyes go around to them all, and for a second they all sober. “—and Madison and this. What happened?”
Bishop drops to the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest. “Don’t know. She fucked him in our house. On my bed. It was recorded and sent to me. It was there in black and white, but I still asked her. She admitted it. That’s that. It was the day before—” Bishop pauses. “When it happened. That stunt at your house after, was the final time I fucked her. Put my cum inside her pussy to remind her who owns it.” He pauses, his eyes glassing over. “Or owned it.”
I snicker at the pussy comment. “Nice.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eli mutters, just as Hunter, Jase, and Ace pad in, all drunk as fuck.
I make sure to fill them in until we’re all sitting around on the floor.
“Did you know him?” I question Bishop, my hand covering my mouth.
Bishop shakes his head. “Never seen him before in my life, but when I do—”
I nod in agreement. He doesn’t need to say the words that he’s thinking, because it’s already done. If Bishop doesn’t find him, I sure as fuck will. In fact, it just bumped up on my list of things to feed on.
“What are we going to do about Tillie?” Brantley asks, breaking through the tension.
I exhale, leaning back on the sofa. “I don’t know, but I think it’s time to tell her why we snatched her ass and placed her in Perdita.”
“Really?” Bishop asks, his eyes coming to mine. “You think she could handle that right now, considering…”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Fuck.”
Tillie
Pain doesn’t define us, it shapes us. We come into this world as newborns, a fresh start. New life, a crisp soul. Then life happens, and every single choice you make has an implication. Every scar has a story, or it doesn’t and it’s just a scar, but whether or not it has a story, it’s still a scar, and that scar doesn’t define us, so why should pain?
