Was it really only twenty-four hours ago that I walked out of the shower and found Bishop in my bed?
I can still feel her touch.
Her hand gripping my cock…
Lips brushing against mine…
The squeeze of her cunt around me as she found her release…
How completely she collapsed into my arms…
Not just sated, but happy.
Content.
She felt safe.
How could everything have changed so much so fast? How could I have fucked it up this badly?
The elevator plunges down toward the main floor, and my mind races through everything that’s happened.
I have to go and report in. After disposing of my phone and not hearing from me for so long, they will have assumed the worst. I need to let them know that my cover’s been blown, at least where the Hawkes are concerned. While I trust the Hawkes not to say anything to anyone, it doesn’t mean my higher ups won’t pull me the second they learn what happened.
The only thing that might save my job is the fact that I’m their only connection to McDonald. Their only possible in.
That’s what I’ll use when I talk to them, when I beg for my job.
But before that, I have to find her.
I have to at least try to fix things.
And if she doesn’t let me, I just keep trying ‘til she does.
Those words echo in my head as the elevator dings in the lobby, but I don’t immediately move to get out of it.
Where would she go?
When she stormed out of a penthouse hours ago, she was distraught, spiraling, more lost than she ever has been in her entire life.
So, where the hell would Bishop go when she’s lost?
Somewhere that feels like home. Somewhere she feels safe. Somewhere she might be able to find some semblance of control when everything around her is spinning out of it.
It hits me quickly.
I know where to find her.
BISHOP
My fist slams into the old leather and the heavy bag creaks and rocks back on the chains. Pain sears through my bare knuckles, but I don’t give a fuck.
That’s what I need more than anything else right now.
I need the pain in my body to match that living in my chest where my heart should be.
I need to keep going, keep hitting something until I drop or the bag does.
Considering that this particular one belonged to Wren’s grandfather and has been hanging here longer than I’ve been alive, my bet is on me giving out before it does.
