Page 64 of Intolerable Bishop

Dropping my hand, I rolled out my shoulders and took the knife from him. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like I’m weak and can’t cut it. Not only do you know better, but I’ll do whatever it takes to learn. Well, anything except get on my knees for you. That doesn’t make me weak. It makes me smart.” I turned toward the target.

Nash stepped up beside me and picked up a knife. “Never turn your back on your enemy. I could’ve snapped your neck,” he said, flipping the knife in the air, catching it, and throwing it. The blade hit the middle of the red, spray-painted target.

“I didn’t know we were enemies,” I said as he held out the knife to show me how to hold it.

“That’s the point, Princess. You never know who your enemies are in this world. Myles could only be fucking you for information. How do you really know what is in someone’s mind?” Nash adjusted the knife. “I’m not saying he is, just giving you an example.”

“If you hate me, why are you helping me?”

“I don’t hate you.” Our eyes locked, and even though it only lasted a moment, there was a glint of vulnerability. When he blinked, it was gone. He stepped away and pointed at the target. “Would be nice if you said thank you, Nash, for letting me stay at your cabin and hide out from people trying to kill me. But I don’t hate you.”

“Did the Nash Collier just sulk?”

He glared at me. “Just throw the knife, Princess.” All the sexual teasing was gone from his tone, and I wanted to scream and smack myself as the disappointment filled me.

“Thanks for letting me stay here, Nash,” I said, meaning it, and his lip twitched.

Forget my family trying to kill me. Dealing with Nash Collier was going to do me in long before they ever got to me.

JUNE 10 – SATURDAY 7:55 PM

Theo

Grabbing the bag of takeout food and the expensive bottle of scotch, I got out of my car and walked up the stairs to Liam’s house. I tried the door, but it was locked. Fuck, I hated it when Liam did this to me. Setting the food down, I pulled out my phone.

T: Are you still angry with me?

It was taking forever for him to respond, and I was just about to send another message when little bubbles appeared.

L: Who said I’m angry?

T: Well, you haven’t spoken to me or seen me since I got back. Let’s just call it my powers of deduction.

L: I’ve been busy.

T: Who are you trying to fool?

L: Fine. I’m annoyed. But I’m not angry.

T: If you’re not angry, get off your ass and open the door for me.

When no more bubbles appeared, I shoved the phone in my pocket and picked up the food, feeling like the disciplined lover shunned and shut out. I didn’t like to beg for anything, well…anything but one thing. Liam seemed obsessed with making me beg for his attention and his cock. The more I begged, the happier he was, and the hotter it made me, but…even I had a limit to what was hot and what was annoying as fuck.

I heard the bolt in the door, and my stomach tightened. Liam always affected me this way, and the fluttering of my pulse only shot higher as he opened the door. He was standing there in black sweatpants, with no shirt, his boxing hand wraps on, and coated in a sheen of sweat. My eyes were locked on his abs and the low-slung pants that I was sure he pulled down further just for me. Licking my lips, I forced myself to look up into his eyes and held up the food.

“I brought this as a peace offering,” I said, trying to sound calm. But there was nothing calm in my mind. Liam looked at the food and the scotch. His face never changed from the perfect mask of indifference, but he did step back and let me in.

“I’ll go shower,” he said, closing and locking the door.

“Do you want me to join?”

Liam didn’t even glance my way. “Nope.” I watched him jog up the stairs and disappear while my shoulders sagged. Fuck.

Neither Liam nor Ren had been in touch, and I’d been trying to be patient and let them have their space. I figured that they would reach out after a day or two, but no dice. Talk about feeling like the cast-off. Walking through the home that I knew as well as my own, I headed to the game room that was only ever used by Liam.

Setting the food down, I looked around. The bag that Liam had been using was no longer swaying, but his water bottle and towel were tossed on the ground, and the music was still playing. Needing something to do, I grabbed the bottle of sanitizer spray and proceeded to clean everything, even though I didn’t know what he used.

“What are you doing,” Liam asked as I was finishing up.