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“You ready to go home?” Trent asked after making a U-turn.
“Take me to Eddie’s,” Bishop mumbled.
“That’s where I meant.” Trent pressed the gas harder. “You’re never at the trailer anymore. Neither is Mike, really.”
“Is that… are you—?”
“Naw. I’m good,” Trent hurried to say, glancing at him before darting his eyes back to the road. “I’m enjoying the place all to myself, ya know. Connecting with myself.”
“Well don’t connect with yourself to much on the couch, dude.” Bishop smirked.
Trent threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck you. I’ll bust off on your bed too if I’m in the mood.”
Bishop’s smile was half-hearted, “You won’t be alone for long. Wood should be out soon. He’ll do six months in the halfway and then me and Mike said he could stay in the trailer until he gets on his feet.”
“Well shit,” Trent said. “So, it’ll just be me and him.”
Bishop rubbed his temple. “Yeah I guess.” Or it’ll be the three of us if Eddie sends me packing. “But Wood is cool. You’ll like him.”
“Is he gay?” Trent asked suddenly.
Bishop frowned. “What does that matter?”
“It doesn’t”
“Okay then.”
“Did you all mess around when you were locked up?”
Bishop gave Trent a tired look. “No, Trent. What part of celibate don’t you get? Besides, I don’t think I’d be his type.”
“What does that mean? He has a type?”
“You can ask him anything you want when he gets there. But let me warn you, Wood is hard to read, and difficult to sucker,” Bishop said. That was the best advice he could give his friend. He’d really have to experience Wood firsthand. There was no describing him.
Trent didn’t look pleased.
Bishop punched him in the shoulder. “You know you can come over to Eddie’s anytime, man. He always tells me to invite you and Mike for dinner or whatever. We’re not always up under each other or no shit like that. He works on his laptop a lot, and I kill time in the yard or playing my video game when he’s cooking.” Bishop’s voice started to trail off as he thought of the comfortable life he and Edison had been living together. If he’d lost that, he didn’t know what…
“Sounds good, man. I’ll come over and eat… you don’t have to ask me twice. I love Edison’s food.”
“Me too,” Bishop whispered.
“You and Edison are gonna be all right, B. He’s fucking head over heels, man. He ain’t going nowhere.” Trent tried to reassure him like always.
“Yeah, and I think I know that, but once again… it’s hard as hell to face him right now. He’s so fucking smart and I’m sure he’s wondering how the hell I’ve managed to survive being this damn stupid.”
“B,” Trent growled.
“I let that piece of shit get to me again.” Bishop dropped his face into his hands. He’d kicked and punched himself tired so all he could do now was snarl, “You know the saying don’t you, Trent? Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me, fool me three fucking times and I’m just a goddamn jackass.”
“Yeah, you’ve lost a few battles, Bishop, but the war is still going. Go home and talk to Edison. Show him you’re still the same guy that he’s crazy about. And while Sky-bitch tried every trick in the book, all he did was make you and Edison stronger. That’s the only way to beat him that doesn’t involve you going back to prison.”
Bishop’s knee bounced. “Thanks, man. All right. Take me to Eddie. It’s time to face the music.”
“I got your back, bro.” Trent nodded.
“I know, T.” Bishop didn’t say anything else as he rehearsed what he was going to say. He’d had his head down when Trent pulled into Edison’s cul-de-sac.
“Bishop!” Trent yelled, making him jump. Bishop jerked his head up then glanced in the direction Trent was pointing. “Isn’t that that bastard’s coupe right there?”
“Shit.” Not bothering to wait until Trent came to a full stop, Bishop jumped out of the truck. Why was Skylar’s car in Edison’s driveway? “Go around the back,” he ordered as he leapt up the porch steps.
The door was already open when he barreled inside to the sound of yelling. As soon as he came through the door, Edison collided into him and Bishop barely kept them from falling to the floor from the force.
“Bishop. Oh my god,” Edison cried, shaking against him. He wrapped his arms around him, clawing at his clothes as if he was trying to climb inside of him. He looked so damn afraid that Bishop’s protectiveness kicked into overdrive.
He knelt and cupped Edison’s cheek, his own hands trembling when he noticed the splotches of blood on Edison’s forehead. “Baby, are you okay?”
“No. No, he’s… I hit him with my head.” Edison’s voice was so shaky Bishop could just make out what he was saying.
