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“Real classy,” Skylar directed towards Edison, looking at him as if he should be ashamed. “This is the company you prefer to keep—with undisciplined, rabid, ex-convicts.”

Bishop bristled, his veins feeling as if they were pumping gasoline through his body instead of blood. He needed to get the hell away from this guy, because Bishop now knew what Skylar’s plan was, and if he lashed out and ground his face beneath his boot, then he was going to win and have an unobstructed path to exactly what he wanted. My Eddie. Bishop glanced down at Edison, who was scowling at Skylar so hard he feared his boyfriend might give himself a headache. All he had to do was stay calm and follow his own plan. Edison would know tonight; he’d tell him everything. Then he’d make love to him for hours because he was one hundred percent sure that Edison wouldn’t leave him, no matter what. Well, maybe ninety-nine, point nine percent sure.

“Ugh. Just leave,” Edison said.

Skylar came closer to Edison, and this time Trent was the one with a grip on Bishop’s arm. He hadn’t realized he’d made a fist until he felt his nails digging into his palm.

“This is your last chance. You can be with a real man, Edison. One who can look good beside you. So, who’s it gonna be? Me or him,” Skylar said right there in front of Bishop. Bold as all fuck. And here he’d thought the pompous pussy didn’t have any balls.

Edison scrunched his face up as if he’d just stepped in shit with his nice shoes. “You disgust me.” Edison rose and quickly kissed Bishop on the mouth. “I have to get to work. I’ll see you tonight. If you get there before me, just use your key.”

Bishop watched Edison walk away.

“That should answer your question, Sky-bitch.” Trent smirked.

“Now, I’m giving you your last warning. Leave him.” Skylar squared off with Bishop, standing at almost the same height as him. Regardless of the fact that he didn’t have near the muscle mass that he and Trent had, it didn’t stop him from threatening them.

“How does five more years in prison sound to you both? Because if you dare fuck with me, I’ll have the best lawyers in Virginia Beach make sure you two get the maximum for assault this time. Edison is my friend. I’m doing this for him.”

“Bullshit,” Trent snapped, and Bishop held onto his friend, knowing their conversation was reaching the danger zone.

“You must like the sting of rejection,” Bishop said. “Edison doesn’t want you.”

“We’ll see. Sometimes problems have to be eliminated first.” Skylar began to back away, then raised his forefinger as if he’d just remembered something critical. “Oh, one last thing. Remember when you were here delivering flowers and I told you I sent for your trial transcripts… they came in yesterday.”

Bishop’s stomach dropped to his feet.

Skylar smirked, knowing he had him. “I bet it’d make an interesting read during my lunch hour. I think I’ll print out a few copies and distribute them around the office. Of course, after I place one on Eddie’s desk.” Skylar sneered.

“Fuck him, B.” Trent tried to move Bishop, but he wasn’t budging. All he could think of was slamming his fist into Skylar’s teeth so that he couldn’t speak. His hands started to shake as he thought about what might be in that transcript. Didn’t that mean everything that’d been said at his trial? Bishop suddenly felt as if he’d swallowed a handful of sand.

“Bishop couldn’t have done it. He’s completely illiterate. He can’t even read!” Royce screeched at the prosecutor. “He has the IQ of ant, he was most likely tricked.”

Bishop’s chest went tight and he didn’t think he could inhale. He wanted to curse, scream, and destroy, but instead of doing either, Bishop clutched Trent’s shoulder and turned his back and walked away. If this had been six years ago, he and Trent would still be beating the shit out of Skylar right there in broad daylight. It was all about the disrespect… the fucking blackmail. Fuck! But he wasn’t a thug anymore. He’d grown the hell up in prison and learned how to use his head instead of his fists. Wood had taught him a discipline that was unshakable, there was no way he was letting that punk beat him. With his earbuds pressed deep into his ears, he went back to his job.

“What are you gonna do?” Trent asked when they were finished for the day and back in the truck.

Bishop rubbed his hand over his jaw. “I’m gonna do what I said. I’m gonna tell Eddie tonight. I was just… I was wanting to have a few more weeks of school finished is all, but… it’s fine. It’ll be fine.” Bishop’s knee started to bounce when he thought of Edison reading that transcript.

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