DECEIT (B723) by Hazel Grace (ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📕

My knees slam into the solid cement floors covered in gray carpet before my palms follow. I seethe pain through my teeth, and before I can even right myself to spin around to thrust my fist into someone’s face, my attacker’s fingers lace through my hair.

I’m flipped around and on my ass by the next second then my back as weight falls onto my torso.

My knee comes up to jab into my opponent’s spine but it halts when a large hand wraps around my jaw and squeezes, pressing the pads of rough fingers painfully into my teeth and gums.

“It’s you,” the voice above me emits, and it takes only but another quick instant for me to register it with my ears then my eyes.

Bishop.

His crystal blues are tightened so much that I can barely see them within the shadows of his long hair. The smell of him wraps around me, creating my body to forsake me into being on my guard and melts with him into the floor.

Bishop leans forward, keeping the full amount of his two hundred plus pounds on me and not giving a shit that I’m having a hard time breathing in gulps like a fish out of water.

This was a ploy.

A fucking setup.

And my brain goes right back to Blue.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” he leers in my face, tightening his hold around my face. “Do you have any idea?”

“I—“

“Shut the fuck up,” he roars through clenched teeth. A bit of his saliva hits my upper lip but I dare not wipe it away. I’ve seen Bishop furious and livid, however, this is next-level shit.

I feel the slight trembling of his hand against my face as he stares at me like I’m going to disappear from his vision.

My eyes burn from the tears at pain that I’ve caused him.

I’m sorry but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. He wants to bitch and yell at me. He wants to hurt me. He wants to inflict every discomfort he felt and has ever felt with me.

“I hope you had fun,” he growls out. “Because I’m about to start mine right now.”

My brows furrow and that’s when he abruptly releases my face, rises to his feet, and hauls me up by my shirt.

With a steel grip, he drags me down the hall to Mills’s place and shoves open the door, sending me stumbling in afterward.

My gaze immediately falls on Mills handcuffed to one of his dining room chairs with a dishcloth placed in his mouth.

The door slams shut behind us, startling me before Bishop pushes me forward like I’m a no one.

Like I’m one of his victims.

“Now that we have the gang all here,” Bishop announces, rounding my body to stride to Mills. “You can watch me kill your lover.”

“Stop,” I chide. “You’re not going to kill anyone.”

Bishop stops just short of Mills’s body and glances over his shoulder to look at me. “No?”

He cocks his arm back and doesn’t even bother making sure he doesn’t miss because he’s that sure he won’t.

And he doesn’t.

He hits Mills square in the face and sends his body careening over a tad.

“Bishop,” I leer. “Stop. This isn’t what it looks like. Listen to me and—“

“I did listen,” he retorts, turning around to give me the full effect of his broad frame. “I listened to this motherfucker tell me that you both fucked and had twins. I also got the news that you named one after me. I also noticed that, with the timing of how long you have to be pregnant, that you were fucking me, Alexander, and Mills.” He begins for me but stops within two steps. “You should’ve told me your sexual appetite wasn’t satisfied, Emmy, I would’ve worked harder.”

“Mills is not the father of my fucking kids,” I snap. “He was covering for me.”

Bishop lifts a curious brow. “Was he? Do I look like I give a shit?”

“Are you hard of hearing? I just said he’s not the dad.”

My husband shakes his head, closing the rest of the gap between us. “That’s not what I wanted to hear, baby.”

“Then what? What do you want, Bish? I told you that he has nothing to do with the kids.”

He bows, making me step backward to allow myself the space I need to think clearly. A ripple of goosebumps claims my skin and I can’t hide the shutter that frays through my body. “I want to know if you fucked him or not.”

“No—“ I shake my head violently back and forth. “—of course not.”

Bishop holds my gaze for only a second longer before he pivots and marches back to Mills. I release my held inhale right before my husband swings on Mills again.

“Stop!” I exclaim through my best friend’s groan. “Bish, please—“

“Shut up, Ems,” Bishop warns with his back to me, reaching behind him to retrieve a knife out of his jean pocket.

I hear it snap open, the distinct sound I’ve made a hundred times myself.

Mills warned me and I didn’t listen.

He told me that this wasn’t a good idea and to keep B723 involved but I wanted my way and only my way to play out.

And now we’re here.

“Don’t hit him again, you—“ Bishop does it anyway and I rush him only to have a strong arm wrapped around my waist.

Thrusting my elbow back, I connect with a hard body and use all my weight to get them to drop me but the grip doesn’t loosen.

I’m promptly dropped on my feet and spun around to find Marty standing over me with a scowl deeper than any body of water.

His hazel eyes burrow into me, searching for answers that I can verbally give him, but he doesn’t want me to speak, just like Bishop.

No, it’ll only piss him off more. It’ll only cause my voice to literally make all this real.

I lied.

I faked my death.

I didn’t tell the people I loved that I needed help.

I was so blinded and scared of Alexander and what was going to happen with