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Giving myself a mental shake, I berated myself for eyeing him like candy. I’d never been rendered speechless by anything, let alone by some man.
The ominous feeling of being watched jerked my attention to his vehicle, which had men leaning against it, observing us. The light made it impossible to judge anything about them since they were obscured by the darkness. Obviously, I’d been very distracted as I’d ogled the guy.
Biting my lip between my teeth nervously, I returned my focus to the man nearest to me. Stepping to the side to get out of the headlights’ blinding glare, I silently calculated my chances of reaching my car before he could prevent me from locking myself inside of it, to call for help. Zilch. Considering the length of his legs compared to mine, I’d make it maybe five steps before he’d catch me. If his intention wasn’t to kidnap me, I’d look like a foolish girl who’d locked herself in herverystuck car.
I was regretting not informing my grandmother of my plans to return home. No one would even realize I’d gone missing except my grandmother, which would have the local authorities calling my job, which I’d quit, or the college, which I’d dropped out of. In short, I was screwed if this guy and his buddies were of a mind to make me disappear.
The idea of being discarded in a ditch wasn’t appealing. Plus, I’d probably end up chewed on by the animal I’d hit and stopped to check on. Wouldn’t that shit be ironic? Talk about the circle of life, Moira. Congratulations, you’re a freaking idiot sandwich!
Smoldering, gray eyes slid back to clash with mine, while I watched his features darkening in the moonlight. His demeanor changed the moment our eyes locked, as if he’d discovered something he didn’t like about me. The way they roved over my face before gradually drifting down my frame with a look of disdain, sent some uncertainty through me. What had shifted to place the look on his face?
“Bishop, I take it,” he said in a way that made me think he found the name foul on his tongue.
“And you are?” I countered in a saccharine tone.
“Done here,” he growled, turning to leave.
Placing my hands on my hips, I simmered with the arrogance of the smug prick. “Good riddance, asshole,” I muttered beneath my breath, stiffening as he paused as the words left my lips.
Staring at my car stuck in the ditch, I frowned. There was no way I could get the car out without help, not with the front end sunk into the damp earth. I’d been lucky the airbags hadn’t deployed. The man leaned against the trunk, smirking seconds before the thunderous clang of them deploying tore through the silent night. I gasped as glass peppered the ground. “Son of a bitch!” I snapped as hopelessness drifted through me.
“I believe the words you are looking for are ‘thank you’,” He stated icily as he removed invisible lint from his shirt before returning his heavy gaze toward me. “Next time, stay on the road, woman. He wasn’t worth your life, was he? No, so I’d suggest you think before you act so foolishly. Were you distracted, or just not thinking about your own safety?” Parting my lips to argue his words, I closed them as dark shadows fell over us from his men moving closer to stand at the edge of the roadway. Peering toward the men, who were slowly moving toward the mess I’d made of the rental, I felt a prickle of fear and apprehension slivering through my flesh. “Answer the question, Bishop.”
Anger bristled through me at the audacity of this guy. Was he pissed because I’d placed the animal’s safety over my own? Why was it endearing, yet irritating? Fisting my hands at my sides, I felt the exhaustion and pushing myself to continue on this late at night colliding together. At the innocent tilt of his head while scanning my face, I felt my blood boiling. Choosing violence, my shoulders straightened as I gritted my teeth.
“My name isn’tBishop,” I shot back irritably. “And I wasthinkingI didn’t want to leave the poor thing to suffer in the middle of the road!”
Dismissing him outright, I began to descend the incline sideways to avoid landing in a heap at the bottom. The dress I’d thrown on this morning wasn’t ideal for trekking through undergrowth, but I did my best not to scratch up my legs as I made my way down the slope. At the bottom, I sent a silent prayer heavenward that I’d made it down gracefully.
I huffed at the sight of broken glass from the airbags deploying. The interior was covered in a white, powdery substance, which also dusted my bags in the passenger seat. Opening the door, I bent forward to retrieve my purse, but a hand gripped my bicep, yanking me back as the car door was slammed closed.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Unhand me, now!” I ordered in a sharp, frigid tone. “Remove your hand from me, sir.”
“I don’t think so, Bishop.” The look of disdain I’d glimpsed earlier had changed into intrigue. “I’m aware of every Bishop witch in Witchery Hollow. So, how is it I don’t know you?”
“I’m sorry, but what?” I demanded with silent laughter bubbling up from my chest. “Did you just insult me by calling me a witch or are you insane?” I was leaning toward both, really.
He was entirely too hot not to be majorly flawed in some way or another. But he’d literally just attached the Bishop name towitches. As if this night wasn’t strange enough already? Of course, he could be superstitious as some who dwelled within Witchery Hollow were. Hell, I’d chosen to attend Harvard because of its proximity to Salem, and the link my family had to the famous witch trials.
Salem was merely an hour-long drive away from Boston if you left before traffic picked up. I’d spent endless days of exploring the city, or digging up anything I could find on Bridget Bishop. She’d been the first woman to be accused of witchcraft. She also happened to be my ancestor. Maybe he thought himself some sort of puritan? Another red flag to add to the growing list of them.
His incredulous eyes scanned my face before he turned, peering over his shoulder at the men standing silently behind us on the road. A dark, wickedly-sinful laugh escaped his throat as he returned his soul-stealing gaze back to where I watched him. The hold he had on my arm tightened as he forced me backward, and I gasped as my back pressed against the solid surface of my car. Swallowing the fear his presence created, I refused to cower or beg him to release me.
“If you are a Bishop, it would make Violet your grandmother,” he demanded in a curious tone laced with lust, as his eyes slowly dipped to the curvature of my breasts exposed by the deep V-line of my bodice. His fingers pinched the strands of my icy-blonde hair as if he were testing the texture of it before drawing it to his nose, inhaling deeply. Those unsettling eyes held mine prisoner as he released it, even as his lips twisted into a dangerous smile.
“Definitely a Bishop. I don’t remember hearing about any of Violet’s daughters being bred other than Scarlett.” He turned to look toward the men lingering on the roadway. “Do you guys remember hearing about the other two procreating?” When they just laughed, his focus returned to me. “I’m very aware of all of Scarlett’s daughters and where they currently are. So, which Bishop bitch do you belong to?”
“Do you honestly expect me to respond to that?Bred? Who the hell says shit like that? And if you knew every Bishop, you’d know Rena had a child, too.”
I wasn’t some secret lovechild. Okay, so technically Iwas, but not from the people in town. It didn’t hurt for this asshole to know who my mother was. I attempted to duck beneath his arm to escape the electrical current his proximity caused against my skin. One of his hands landed on my hip as the other gripped my chin to jerk my face up until I teetered on my tiptoes. Panic and anger combined into a dangerous combination as he manhandled me.
“Rena is your mother?”
Ignoring his question, I shot off one of my own. “What do you want from me?” I fumed through clenched teeth.
“I want your name, darling,” he answered smoothly.
Blinking slowly, I chewed over which name I should offer the smug prick. Did it really matter if I told him the truth? No. It might also get him to leave me alone since our family was one of the original settlers here, which carried some sway.
