Page 94 of Intolerable Bishop

“Fuck. Are ya thinkin’ Lawrence is on to yer mom knowin’ or that she told him about Ren to begin with,” Myles asked. I shook my head as I pulled on the black gloves. I hadn’t even considered that she might have told someone.

“No, I don’t see my mom giving Lawrence that kind of ammunition.”

“Are ya sure?”

I glared at Myles. “Yes, I’m fucking sure. My mom was helping Yulianna and Ren. She wouldn’t reveal them to Lawrence. She hates him as much as we all do. Are you trying to accuse my mom of something?”

“Naw man, just makin’ sure yer thinking of all the possibilities. Isn’t that my job as this soundin’ board thing?” Myles smirked, and I wanted to hit him. He pulled out his gun and checked the chamber. I did the same but hoped things didn’t end up going that far. “Look, no matter what, ya need to tell Nash. He’s collecting all the information. I’ll keep quiet for now, but Ren has been doing her own research, at least what she can from her laptop. All she needs is one of them murder boards with the string, and she would be set. She’ll make the connection at some point. All it takes is one image, one write-up that mentions your mother’s name in conjunction with her mother, and she’ll flag it.”

“Shit,” I swore, hating that he was right. We could only protect her from the truth for so long before everything burst wide open. Any interaction could be what caused the first domino to fall. “Speaking of secrets….” Myles paused with his hand on the door. “Have you told Ren about your initiation on your birthday?” He cringed.

“Naw, and I’m waitin’ til the last possible moment, so don’t be going and tellin’ her either. If yer making me keep your secret, ya need to keep mine.”

“You do realize your birthday is thirteen days away? You don’t have much time to prepare her for whatever you have to do.”

“I’m not fucking talkin’ about this right now.” Myles got out and slammed the truck door.

“Well, I guess that conversation is done,” I mumbled, putting my hood up and getting out to follow Myles down the sidewalk.

This street was mainly rental properties and the odd person milling about. It was the kind of neighborhood where they didn’t mind your business if you didn’t mind theirs. There was one light on and a flickering that announced a television. We walked up to the front door and saw the guy sitting in a recliner with a beer in his hand and his eyes closed.

Myles knocked, but he didn’t move. He knocked again, and the guy still didn’t move. “Looks like he is either dead or passed out.”

“Hmm. I hate breakin’ in, but….” He grabbed the handle and then looked at me and smiled as it turned. “Idiot forgot to lock the door. When we go in, close the drapes.” I nodded, and he pushed the door open.

As soon as the stench of stale smoke and rotting food hit my nose, the reality of where we were and what we were doing hit. I didn’t tend to get nervous or scared, but the adrenaline pumped harder through my veins.

I grabbed Myles’s arm. “What if he’s armed,” I asked.

“Then shoot him,” Myles answered as if it was obvious. Great.

Locking the front door, I pulled my gun and slipped past the sleeping man—who was snoring like a freight train—to close the drapes. Myles tipped his head toward the rest of the house, and I took off down the only hallway to see if anyone else was here. The info Lawrence had given us didn’t say anything about a family, but you never knew for sure, and it was best to be safe. The house was small, with one disgusting bathroom—that the CDC should be inspecting for new viruses—and two bedrooms. The first was loaded with floor-to-ceiling boxes. The next one actually had a bed. My nose turned up at the sight of the white sheets with a distinct grey stain. This guy was disgusting. Walking back into the living room, I shook my head at Myles as he stood staring at the sleeping man.

His face had changed since the truck. It was like he was a whole new person. Cold and calculating, with darkness burning in his eyes that would make even Lawrence think twice. I’d seen him like this before. Axel most recently, but it was hard to wrap my head around the fact that Myles, the biggest jokester of us, lived with this buried beneath the surface. Picking up the remote, Myles turned up the television until it was blaring and then kicked the chair a few times. When the guy didn’t do anything more than groan, Myles reached back and smacked him so hard that you could hear it over the laugh track of the late-night talk show.

With a startled yell, the guy came to and blinked his bloodshot eyes at Myles. His face blanched at the sight of him.

“Hello, Joshua.” The man swallowed. “I told you I’d be back if ya didn’t give Mr. Collier his money on time. I also said that ya wouldn’t like what happened if I had to pay ya another visit. Do you have the money?”

“No, but…but…I will. I need a little more time.”

“Wrong answer.”

Joshua stupidly tried to jump up. Not only would he never have made it at the best of times, but he was drunk and barely got to his feet before Myles kicked him square in the chest. He sent him flying back into the recliner that flipped over with the momentum.

Grabbing the edge of the chair, Myles lifted it off of Joshua. He grabbed the man by the front of his stained shirt and punched him in the face. Blood from his broken nose gushed out, and no matter how hard he tried to keep the blows from connecting, Myles never missed. Joshua’s face was a mess by the time Myles stopped. He wiped his glove off on Joshua’s shirt before standing and stepping back.

“Fuck…fuck, my nose,” Joshua groaned. Myles caught him in the stomach with his shitkicker. The guy started throwing up on his already disgusting floor. My stomach rolled as the stench hit me, but if it bothered Myles, he didn’t let it show.

“This is yer final warning, Joshua. Stop going to the bars, stop playin’ the ponies, and stop goin’ to see yer little whore downtown. Ya pay Mr. Collier back by the end of next week or….” Myles grabbed Joshua’s chin and stuffed the barrel of the gun into his mouth. “I’ll make ya eat my lead. This is your final warnin’.”

“I will. I promise. I have a big payday coming in,” Joshua said, and Myles shook his head.

“Ya know, I was gonna be nice, but I don’t think I got my point across. I said no more ponies, and I meant no more ponies.” Myles looked at me. “Make sure he doesn’t move.” Pulling my gun, I fixed Joshua with a hard stare as Myles left the room. I could hear him going through drawers in the kitchen and knew this was not going to be pretty. He wandered back in with a massive butcher’s knife, twirling it in his hand.

“No, no, please don’t. I won’t. I promise. No more gambling. I swear.” Joshua pushed himself back along the floor right through his puke, and I swallowed to keep from gagging.

“Which one?”