“Damn, Bishop, if this is what it’s like being your wife, I can’t imagine why women aren’t lining up to take my place.”
I grunt because no one else will ever be my wife. I’ve never wanted to own and be owned by anyone else in my life but Emmy Lou Rhodes.
And that shit hasn’t changed in years.
I don’t think it will anytime soon either. I just want to rest in pieces and be left alone.
“I’ll try to do better,” I quip mockingly. “You’ll have a room full of pink flowers and your favorite—“
“Fuck you.” She rips her laptop out of my grasp and hops into her car.
I don’t bother waiting for her to start it, but she makes sure to express how pissed off she is because she peels out of the trailer park.
I was kinda serious about the pink flowers.
It’s Emmy’s favorite color, and the look on her face when she received them is—the only way I can describe it is grateful and turned on. I’ve got my dick sucked as she rode my face once when I got her an assortment of every shade of pink.
I didn’t expect it, but I wasn’t going to turn it down either.
Our relationship might not be conventional in the least, but Emmy is mine by law and vice versa. I just have to get my mind and dick to agree that letting her go was for the best.
Back inside, I find Blue on her knees about to wrap her lips around Chuck’s small cock—Christ, I didn’t want to see it—and I stand in front of her, careful not to touch body parts that I particularly don’t wish to.
She pushes that bar too fucking far. In no world would I want her to suck off some piece of shit just to get information for me.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Chuck censures behind me.
“Pull your fucking pants up, peckerhead. You and I are going to go meet my dog.”
Ten minutes.
They have all but ten minutes before I bust into that daycare and pop a cap in everyone’s ass for making me sit here.
The other kid’s name that Bishop was looking for is Mad Dog, and with hours of skimming security footage from traffic lights and local businesses, I used a face recognition program to pin us here.
Mad Dog went to school with the little Chuck prick, and it made sense. So, we’re at Sunny Side Up Daycare, where the plans and specs allude to a basement which Chuck said—after God knows what Bishop did to him—that this is his place of business.
An establishment where children play during the day and cocaine is distributed at night.
Cute.
After gathering all the information with my baller-ass tech skill, Bishop told me that we were coming here to check it out.
I thought he meant we would breach the operation together as a team.
Not me getting babysat by Blue of all people in the front seat of Kyson’s blacked-out SUV.
I’m going to kill him.
“Take a hit and chill,” Blue asserts calmly, holding out her lit blunt between her dark blue nails. “You’re fucking with my high.”
“You being this close to me is fucking with my composure to not hit you.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re always worrying so much about everyone. You overthink everything, Em.”
“Someone has to,” I mutter, rearranging myself in the driver’s seat.
Because you’re sure as hell not.
“Was there a role for mama bear and you jumped at the opportunity, or do you just like being the annoying little sister?” I slowly turn my head to look at the woman I’ve wanted to throat punch since almost day one of her working at B723.
I can get with the whole I don’t give a fuck attitude, or I have zero feelings because they’re useless.
However, I won’t deal with the way she encourages the boys to make dumbass decisions.
Like when she allowed Marty to walk through a crowded marketplace in Morocco to take out an influential leader who wanted another genocide. He was surrounded by men with assault rifles, yet she let Marty shank him in the neck and kill the rest of the armed guards alone.
I mean, do I need to say he could’ve been killed?
Or the time she told Mills to flirt with some random woman at a party and didn’t tell him she was the wife of a drug lord.
Let’s just say he broke his leg trying to jump out of a three-story window to get out of that one. Then I punched her in the face the next time Blue, and I were in the same room.
“Bitch, I’ve helped run a whole country,” I snarl through my teeth. “What have you accomplished besides smoking with the boys and urging them on with their impulsive ass ideas?” Blue’s perfectly pink shadowed eyes flick over to me, filling in a silent meaning of what else she’s done.
She’s fucked Bishop.
And she knows I want to rip her throat out for it.
And for what?
Honestly, good for her. She can share the title of sleeping with the man who believes emotions are scary and that he’s going to be big and bad forever.
And he thinks I’m an idiot for believing in fairytales and unicorns.
Besides, in the long run, Bishop isn’t someone that would go for a woman like me anyway. Blue is edgy, beautiful, dangerous in her own right. She might be a little slutty, but who am I to cast stones?
If I enjoyed sleeping with randos, maybe I’d love to be her in another life. Except I’m not a fan of people in general, so the odds of me getting down with a few one-night stands aren’t going to happen.
However, with the way she keeps taunting my ass, she’s gonna get herself hit again.
“You honestly don’t know a thing about me, Emmy Lou,” Blue quips before placing her blunt back between her plush lips. “Don’t hate
