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26

Gunner

Team Bonding

One day turns into three. Three days turn into a week. Then two weeks.

Just like that, time passes us by, and though I’mwithLibby, so it’s really not as bad as it could be, we’re also with these people we don’t want to be with.

Jay is still as angry as always, made worse because Soph isn’t. She seems to actually like me, and every time she speaks to me, Jay gets more and more frustrated.

I get it, of course. Jealousy isn’t reserved for high school students, and I wouldn’t even consider it a juvenile emotion. He has something he refuses to give up, but he also has a genius for a girlfriend, and while he has many talents in his own right, he can’t match her intellect. He can’t challenge her in that way.

But I can.

So Soph and I bond over computers and software. We teach each other things. She shows me how and where she breached my firewalls, and I teach her how to go in another way. I show her how I got into her system, and in the quiet moments, I tell her the story of my youth.

Guns, drugs, women… my mom. I tell her of my early days in an alleyway, and while sitting on a grassy hill, I tell her of the nine-year-old girl I met, while we watch that very girl line up between the three men and take her shots. They’re practicing their long-range shots; Romeo, Spence, Jay, and Libby. She might be half their size, less than half their weight, but she doesn’t shy away. She’s the cop that is so straight, she spent all of her spare time in the last decade perfecting her shot.

“You’re kinda obsessed with her, huh?” Soph bumps her shoulder into mine, and chuckles when I snap out of my staring daze. She sits up taller and fixes the laptop resting in her lap. “Since you were eleven?”

“Two thirds of my damn life. But that two thirds were also spent with so much fucking anger toward anyone with the last name Bishop.”

Her breath comes out on a small laugh.

“I know that’s me. I know that’s your man. And I know that’ll eventually be you. But it was a legitimate hatred I carried. It was like ice and fire. My Bishop hate was the fire, and Libby was the ice. They spent two decades warring with each other, so now we’re here, I’m making peace with the Bishop bullshit, and now I’m trying to see Lib with these new eyes. No more anger, no more hatred. I just want to love her without the layer of hate getting between us.”

“Do you think your love for her is only a coping mechanism for the rest? Maybe, once you can move past this and find your new equilibrium, you won’t need her anymore?”

“No.” I let my eyes scour Lib’s tight body while she stands with the guys. Her legs are shoulder-width apart, her arms are braced, and when she’s ready, she lets off another round. Nobody jumps around here anymore. No one is startled by the shots, because this is what we do. Soph and I research this friend of theirs that seems to enjoy graffiti and taking potshots at Bishops, and the others shoot, or fight, or play cards. “No, I promised to love her even before Bishop killed my mom. She and I had already made our promises before everything went to shit, so I know I’m in it for the right reasons.” I allow my eyes to slide along Lib’s legs. “I guess I’ve just gotta get to know her as this new person. I’ve been so obsessed with my hatred for so long, I’m trying to learn this new me without that facet of my world. It frees up loads of space, which is great, but…” I shrug.

“But you’re struggling to find your reason for being here, if it’s not to be angry at Colum Bishop?”

I smile, look to the grass beneath us, and begin picking at the blades. “Bingo. I have my company, I have Libby. I have my hobbies, and now it would seem I have a bunch of Bishops I don’t particularly hate. It’s just taking some getting used to.”

“Ya know… you and I have a very similar story.”

“Yeah?”

She nods. “Colum Bishop killed my sister in much the same way he killed your mom. The kicker is, I met Jay and fell in love with him long before I knew Colum was the man responsible. So I fell in love and became dependent on Jay,thenI find out the man responsible for ruining my damn life is the father of the man I love. Like, were we supposed to invite him over for dinner? Does he expect us to name our first child for him? How far does this family loyalty spread? Because I was damn sure I wouldn’t be sitting down to a meal with that man.

“I spent a good few hours, once we got his name, going into a complete meltdown, because I loved Ellie, she was my reason for living. But I also loved Jay, and he wasn’t dead. He was right there in front of me. So who would I choose? My dead sister, or my alive boyfriend? And what if that boyfriend begged for me to give his dad a chance?”

“Impossible.”

She chuckles. “It really was. And my meltdown was my own fault, because not once did Jay ever say he was on Colum’s side. My head was fucking me up, throwing these scenarios of Thanksgiving dinner and Christmas morning at me…” She shakes her head. “I couldn’t cope. I couldn’t give him what he wanted. I was preparing to leave our relationship, because I figured he would choose family over me. But then… he didn’t. He tore that shit right out of my head and promised that he was going to take care of things for me.”

“And he did? He took care of things?”

She shrugs. “In a way. He supported my need to not let Colum get away with his shit. He supported my need to look into Colum’s eyes and tell him he’s done. He let me set up the sting that eventually took him down, and when I sent my emails and taunted him, Jay didn’t stop me. He had no loyalty for that man.”

“I judged them,” I admit quietly. “I assumed they were all part of the same team. Like it was somehow a pure-blood thing that I couldn’t possibly understand, since I was a bastard child. I came to your offices ready to remove more Bishops–”

“But they’re not like him,” she inserts. “Our Bishops are family men. They’re all about loyalty, but not to that man that provided sperm and nothing else. So you should remember that about yourself; he provided sperm, but the rest is you. The men you three are today, is all because of you and your hard work. Don’t let that prick’s ghost make you think differently.”

I lean back and stretch my legs out ahead of me. I look relaxed, but I’m really not. “The day he was killed…”

“Colum?”

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