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

this Earth that I would’ve bled for. I would’ve done anything, Emmy, to have you back. Now I don’t want you anymore. So it’s only fitting—“ I drop my hand and put space between the two of us. “—that I snatch your shit away.”

“He stabbed me,” she storms. “Not you!” Her index finger stabs into my chest, but I could give a shit about her temper tantrum.

I don’t answer her. She doesn’t deserve it.

Emmy shoves me backward and deeper into the room when silence answers her back. Then the click of a hammer sounds and her little 9mm appears in my face.

“You’re not listening,” she mocks with her head cocked to the side. “Something you always did but listen to me now…Alexander is mine. Take that how you want but I’ll be the one he sees last when he takes his final breath.”

“Are you gonna make me dead-dead for real, or are you gonna fake this shit too?” I step into her range then lean forward. “You’re a mother now, Emmy Lou. Are you going to shoot a live round in the place where your children are sleeping?”

I expect her to frown and recant her placing of her weapon, but she doesn’t move, nor does the deep scowl disappear off her face.

“There’s a threat in the house,” she replies. “And this time, I’m ready.”

“Mhm.” The barrel presses into my sternum and I don’t stop until I’m inches from her captivating as fuck lips. “I feel like we’ve been here before.”

Her eyes flick to my mouth as I speak and I involuntarily growl. “Are you gonna leave me again?”

My chest tightens because I remember leaving her hotel room pissed that night she came to Pittsburgh. How she just wanted to help and I wanted nothing to do with her or it.

Like she did to me with this Alexander thing.

“Yes,” I deadpan, then straighten my spine and round her body.

“I’ll beat you to him,” she tells me as I make my way to the door.

“I’d love to see that.” I twist the knob and yank it open, finally able to breathe and think for the first time since seeing her when she drops another fucking bomb on me.

“Challenge accepted, husband.”

Mills was right. Atlas and Alaric cooed and let me snuggle them without so much as a crying fit or look of fear in their blue eyes.

After Bishop left, Mills promptly returned and held me in his arms for at least five minutes while I cried into his chest.

This evening was intense, and I filled it with apologies and promises to make it up to him while Mills brushed at my hair and told me how much he loved me and the kids.

When the babies were back down and fed, I went back to my studio so no one would see me on the better side of town. Alexander would never venture into Garden City with his entitled ass, and he’s probably well over losing his mind for not hearing back from his men on taking out Bishop.

He has to know by now that they failed and move on to plan B. And whatever that plan may be, I need to find it and trace back all the records of what he’s been saying, typing, or emailing in code so I could be ready for it.

I must’ve fallen asleep because when I wake up, I’m confused about where the hell I am and quickly realize it’s my bed with the curtains drawn. I retrace last night and being at the dingy table when my foot hits something hard next to me—and it’s not a remote control or laptop.

Jolting from the bed, I’m barely able to throw my leg over the side before an arm wraps around my middle and hauls me backward. Everything happens so quickly that I can’t even throw a punch before Bishop’s knee swings over my stomach and pins me to the mattress.

I know it’s him because I’ve had said weight on me hours ago and I can smell his delicious scent wrapping around me.

“Fucking asshole!” I yell, throwing my fisted hand into any part of his chest that I can reach.

Bishop latches onto my wrist, then captures the other and holds my arms above my head like a douchebag.

My heart continuously rams into my chest from him scaring the shit out of me, and before I can open my mouth, he speaks for the both of us.

“Are we divorced or not?”

I thrust my hips off the mattress to get him off of me. “Get away from me.”

“Focus, Emmy,” he chides before having the balls to snap his fingers like I’m a child. “Are we still married?”

“Who the fuck cares.” I stop for a second to look at him for the first time. “How did you get in this time? How did you find me?”

“Your landlord sucks, and it only took twenty bucks for him to open the door. Didn’t even ask for ID. You need to move out of—“

“Shut up,” I storm, yanking at my arms to see if I can free myself. “You don’t care. You’re working against me now. We don’t give each other advice.”

“Alright—“ He readjusts his weight so that he’s comfortable and I’m still squished under his massive density. “—we’ll skip the small talk and go right to you answering the first fucking question I asked. Are you still my fucking wife, Emmy?”

I squirm underneath him, a crest of claustrophobia creeping up my chest. “Are you still going after Alexander?”

“You know I am.” A smirk illuminates off his handsome features, and if my hands weren’t pinned, I’d sucker punch him.

I bite my lip and watch his blue eyes flick to it. Then an idea sparks in my head that makes me ashamed of even myself.

An evil and manipulative ass plan that’ll set me over the line of bitch to a conniving ass whore.

“Maybe we can come up with an agreement,” I hedge, purposely taking a deep breath so that my back arches a tad and my breast rises