AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shake my head. “I grew up on the streets. I’m never unarmed.”
“You’re carrying?” Libby spins with a gasp. “What?”
“I’m very discreet about it. You spent the whole night with me, and you’ve yet to see a weapon.”
“Mm. That answers that, then.” Eric rubs a hand over his stubbled jaw and continues to study me. “Walked into an office with him – or, well,” he chuckles. “Was carried in by him. But he wasn’t there when you came out. Now you’re saying you stayed together all night…” He lifts a brow. “You have a story to tell us, no?” He looks me up and down once more. “I won’t take your weapons, Griffin. You were in yesterday, you were surely packing, and you managed to keep your cool. But you should know this building is secure. Every man inside has half a dozen pieces on his body at every minute, and we outnumber you five to one. Don’t make us take you out.”
“We’re not here to cause trouble,” Libby insists. “I belong to Alex, right?”
Eric nods. “Yeah.”
“So you know I’m not here to make trouble. Alex trusts me, you guys trust Alex. We just want to talk.”
“Alright.” He slowly backs up, taking his receptionist with him and jockeying her back as though worried she might be a target.
When I came in yesterday, everyone inside was laughing and loud. There was joking and muffled crashes. But today, it’s deathly silent.
Dolly moves back to her desk when Eric gives herthe eyes, but her phones remain quiet.
This almost feels like a funeral. A moment of silence for the fallen.
I let naked legs talk me into walking toward my death.
Libby walks faster than me, more eager than I am to face them, and when we leave the reception area and enter a much larger space full of desks, we’re met with loaded silence. A dude with long hair that stretches to his jaw sits at a desk with his fingers steepled and resting against his chin.
Another guy, seven feet of muscle I know to be Spencer Serrano, rests with his back against the wall, a foot lifted behind him, and his arms folded. He watches us with an intensity in his eyes, and about five guns strapped to his legs. He’s massive, and he’s not playing.
“Cruz.” Libby steps up to another guy who rests against a walking cane. He’s young, no older than me or anyone else in this room. His jaw is square and ticking, his chest broad.
He steps forward in a black shirt and camo pants, but his glower turns to a small grin when Libby offers a fist, and he bumps it.
My brow shoots high at their familiarity.
This all seems too fucking friendly for her. Has this been a game all along? Draw me in, fuck me, bring me here, and flip the script to reveal she’s a Bishop soldier after all?
“Calm yourself.” Spencer’s eyes remain on my twitching hands. “Don’t be dumb, Griffin. We don’t have to have beef.”
“Where are they?” Libby asks. She stops beside me in the center of the room and steps closer when I pull her in.
She might cross me. She might be the very cause of my demise, but I still pull her closer so I can protect her.
What can I say; women control me. First my mom, and now Libby.
“In the boardroom,” Eric says. “Four of them.”
“Four?” I look from face to face. “Four Bishops?”
Eric smiles. “No, two Bishops, and two women who don’t know how to mind their own business. One of those women is set to become a Bishop soon. I sure hope you’re not going to fuck with those plans.”
“Come on.” Libby slips out of my hold, but takes my hand. “Everybody needs to take a breath. This doesn’t have to be so friggin’ tense.”
“Easy for you to say.” Spencer watches every step we take. “You guys have the information. We have a blind date and no clue if the person turning up weighs five hundred pounds and has boils all over her face. Is my date gonna fuck me, Tate? Or fuck with me?”
“Neither.” She pats his chest as we come to stop by the very door he’s guarding. “You’re handsome, Spence. But I’m not interested in fucking vigilantism.”
“And yet, you walk in with this dude.” His dark eyes study my face and chest. “The women in there aren’t a weakness for us, Griffin. They’re armed and capable.”
“Can we just go in already?” Libby places her hand on the door handle, and takes mine in her left. “We don’t have to do this intimidation game thing. We’re just here to talk.”
