Tacet a Mortuis
“You alright?” Bishop asked, dropping to third and flooring it out of the driveway.
“Yeah, I think.” Truth was, I wasn’t sure. I knew that how I had acted in the past was shit, but for the first time ever, I’d made it impact Tatum too. She’s an innocent in all this.
We pulled into Tate’s driveway first and I slid my seat forward to let her out.
“I’ll be in in a sec!” I called out to her as she jogged up her front steps.
I turned to face Bishop. “I upset her, I think, with all that Nate stuff.”
Bishop’s eyes followed Tate. “Nah, I don’t think she’s mad at you. Him probably.”
“I won’t be a second.” I climbed out of the car and followed her up the steps. Closing the door behind myself, I headed straight for her bedroom which was on the first floor. She converted the media room to her bedroom because she hated the sunlight so much. My best friend was a vampire, but it worked for us. Netflix and chill dates were like business class luxury at Tate’s. Not that her parents would give a shit. They checked in on her once every three or so months but always kept the trust fund full. I wasn’t entirely sure what the crux of their issues was with Tate, but apparently, according to Tate, it had always been like this. There was a cleaner and a cook that lives here full time, sort of like my Sammy and Jimmy, but other than that, her parents never came home. To some, it may sound amazing. A twelve-bedroom mansion all to yourself with a bank balance that could match CEO executives. But to Tate, I knew she craved something more, it was why she always had so much to give. Which was why I was such a terrible friend.
I walked into her bedroom and giggled at the bed. “You actually converted the seats to a bed?”
She halted her packing and looked over her shoulder. “Why of course. Jump on it, it’s so comfortable.” I took a step closer and sunk into the bed. She was right. It felt like my ass was being caressed by a marshmallow. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
She continued her packing, throwing in bikinis and short skirts. I was too focused on my apology to stop her. “You’re mad at Nate about what happened?”
She paused, then continued. Standing to her feet, she headed out the door and turned toward her bathroom. “Sort of!” she yelled out from the hallway before entering with her toothbrush in hand. “I mean, I’m not mad at him for hooking up with you because I’m jealous. I was mad because he knew what he was doing and knew his loyalty to Bishop, but continued to pursue you anyway.”
She zipped up her duffle bag. “Tate, it was me as much as him.”
She slung her bag over her shoulder and glared at me. “Oh, I know. And I’m still mad at you about that—hence the reason I wanted to come watch you get your ass beat today.” She chuckled, but when she noticed I wasn’t amused, her face fell. “Mads, you know I love you. I just didn’t entirely agree with your actions, but I’d never judge you.”
“It sort of feels like you’re judging me, Tate.”
She walked toward me and placed her hands on my shoulders. “I am not judging you. I love you and you’re my best friend, but I don’t agree with what you did—that’s all, and that’s going to happen, Mads.” I didn’t know why this shocked me, but I think it had to do with the fact that Tate was the easygoing friend. The free spirit and well… sexually active. Very active. Tillie was the free spirit, wild friend, but not over opinionated and snappy like Tate. More submissive and easygoing.
She repeated, “I’m not mad at you now. I’m over it.” Then her hands dropped to either side of herself. “I guess if you looked at it like that, I am sort of upset about Nate. God!” She exhaled and dropped back onto the bed, her hands covering her face. “I’m such a fucking idiot, Mads. I knew what I was getting myself into when I jumped into bed with him. I knew he was a slut, yet I did it anyway.” Her fingers spread apart and her eye peeked through. “This is the part where you tell me I’m not an idiot and that he is good at what he does and that my Bishop will come along one day.”
I snorted, and then pulled her up by her arm. “Bishop is complicated, and it would truly terrify me if there were more like him out there, have you forgotten all the shit.” When I saw her face not registering, I rolled my eyes. “Never mind. Get up!” I yanked her up to her feet and wrapped my arm around her waist as we headed back toward the front door.
“I love you too, Tate.”
She squeezed me. “Are you going to tell me what happened to Tillie?”
I smiled sadly. “I will when I know.”
We put Tate’s shit into the trunk then got back into our seats. Bishop gave us both a cautious stare. “You both good?”
“We’re good!” I said, gesturing to the front of us. “Let’s get my stuff quickly, go to your house, and then get food. I don’t feel like cooking, so maybe we should order some pizzas on the way back to the cabin.”
Bishop laughed. “You got this all figured out, huh?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, lovebirds. As much as you’re making my heart weep with feelings, I’d really love to listen to music right now.”
Bishop hit the music and a soft song came on with a woman singing a catchy hook. “What’s this song?”
Tate answered for me. “‘Something I Don’t Know’ by Miraz.” She turned her head to look out the small back window, a sad look pulling across her face. I felt for her because her feelings for Nate were obvious, but I knew he wasn’t on the same page as her—and never would be, because he was lost and stuck on the first chapter of Tillie. Maybe if she wasn’t in the picture, he could draw one with Tatum, but she was in the picture, so it wasn’t looking good for Tate.
“Hey, when are you going to tell me about Tillie?” I asked Bishop, turning to face him a bit more.
His jaw clenched as his eyes flew to the rearview mirror briefly, checking on Tate. He took his attention back to the road and dropped down gears. “Soon.”
I guessed that was code for ‘don’t ask me right now,’ so I left it alone. We drove up my driveway. I sighed, hating that I was back here.
“I’m starting to really not like this place.”
“Want me to come in with you?” Bishop asked, his index finger running on his upper lip.
I nodded. “Okay.” Then I turned to face Tate. “Can we leave you unattended for a few minutes?”
She clutched her chest, mock shocked. “Oh, well, I’d never…”
Bishop and I both laughed, getting out of the car. The sweat from the fighting had long since dried over my skin, but the smell was still there.
“I really need a shower. I might have one quickly before we leave.”
Bishop pulled his sunglasses over his eyes, his arm hooking around my waist as he led me to the front door. “Suits me.”
“Oh, hi sweetie!” Elena was coming down the stairs when we entered. Her eyes went to Bishop and her smile softened even more. She rested her palm on his cheek. “Honey, you should have said something about Elizabeth.”
He shrugged. “It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
She squared her shoulders, her brown hair falling over her shoulder. “Oh I can assure you, it would have. I’m having lunch with your mom tomorrow. Does she know?”
Bishop shook his head. “No, she doesn’t, mainly because, well...”
Elena smirked. “Because your momma is one woman who you do not want to be on the bad end with.”
Bishop chuckled. “Exactly.”
“Well, I can’t lie to her if it comes up. It was her who asked to have lunch with me, so we all know that in this world, that means either a favor is about to be asked, or some information needs bleeding. Or both.” She dropped her oversized glasses over her eyes and gave him one last pat on his shoulder. “Take care of our girl.” Then she left like a hurricane of summer, warm milk and cookies. I swear, she had to be one of the most interesting women I had ever met. She smelled like fresh daisies on a hot summer day and cold ice tea, but to be so deeply involved in this life, she had to be built from the s
trong stuff too. And I had witnessed on more than one occasion how she could flip from cute housewife to scary mob boss wife.
I walked up the stairs with Bishop hot on my heels and then headed straight into my bedroom. “I’m grabbing a quick shower.”
He went to my closet. “I’ll pack your bag.”
“Thanks,” I gave him a smile and he walked up to me, pressing his lips to mine. It took everything inside of me not to melt into a puddle on the floor if it was physically possible.
He pulled back, his eyes searching mine. “Some information has come to light about exactly what might be going on over there. Something we didn’t know about until this morning.”
I brushed away my nerves. “Dangerous things?”
Bishop clenched his jaw a couple of times. “Yes.”
“And who did you hear this from?”
Another clench. “Daemon.”
“Is he ok?” Panic set in as it usually does whenever my brother was mentioned. I had a bond with him that was unimaginable and just the thought of harm coming his way was crippling.
“He’s fine, babe, but we need to check on a few things.”
“Why?” I whispered before I could stop myself. “I mean, obviously he has ties to The Elite Kings, but why are you guys all helping him all of a sudden when it wasn’t too long ago that you all sort of couldn’t stand him? Well, aside from the fact that he is my brother.”
Bishop waited, and then sighed. “Because it’s not that we couldn’t stand him, Madison, it’s what he’s capable of and who he is. But he’s your brother, which means he means something to me now.”
“Thank you.” I exhaled, rubbing the palm of my hand over my forehead. “Thank you for understanding when it comes to Daemon. Why didn’t you want Tate coming?”
Bishop’s smile faltered. “I like her, and that says a lot because I don’t like anyone, but…” He searched my eyes, seeming to swim above the surface on something, then just as his mouth twitched, he shook his head. “It’s nothing. I just didn’t want to hear her and Nate arguing all the way.”
“Word,” I mumbled, pulling my eyes from his.
“Hey.” His thumb and index finger curled around my chin, tilting my head up to face his. “She’s loyal as shit to you, so that makes her a friend of mine. Everything I do, I do for you. Remember that, okay?”
I raised my hand up to his face. My finger curving over his sharp jaw, and then down to his chin. I watched as his lips slightly parted as he sucked in a breath. It was discreet and subtle, but I didn’t miss it.
“I love you,” I whispered, my eyes staying on his lips. When his jaw tightened, I quickly dropped my hand, snapping myself out of my trance. “Sorry.” I knew he wouldn’t say it back, and I’d never expected him to, but the longer he goes without saying it, hurts a little more. At first, I was okay. Like, so he needed time to feel his feelings. I could give him that, right? But that was the second time I had told him I loved him and he didn’t reply. I quickly dove for the bathroom door.
“—Mad—” I slammed the door on his face, right before he could jump up to stop me and flipped it locked.
Tears threatened to surface and my chest tightened from the rejection. Before I could stop it, one spilled from my eye and I quickly scrubbed it away. Angry that I was getting so worked up over something so sparse and stupid. I hit the faucet and turned the water onto scolding hot then stepped inside. I needed it hot enough to take my mind off what just happened. To remind me that emotional pain isn’t real, it was a figment of our imagination. We didn’t bleed. We didn’t die from the injuries that emotional pain gave us. But even as I replayed that mantra in my head, my heart was screaming at me and calling me a liar. A sob came out and I reached for the soap, lathering it between the palm of my hand—a loud smash shocked me out of my slum and I quickly pulled the curtain away to see what the fuck had just fallen in my bathroom, only to find Bishop heaving and my door split in two. My eyes dropped down to his combat boots to see the residue from him kicking my door dusted over the leather.
“Bishop!” I swiped my cheeks and sniffed my nose. “You could have walked through Nate’s entrance!”
He didn’t say anything, he simply stepped toward the shower, his shoulders rising and falling and his teeth clenched together so tightly I was sure his jaw was about to snap.
“You didn’t even give me a chance…” he started as he slowly continued to come closer. I went to answer but his hand flew up to shut me up. His eyes were dilated, his cheeks flushed red. God. He was mad as fuck at me, which slightly pissed me off because the person who should be mad—for once—should be me. He ripped the curtain out of my hand, his eyes staying on mine. He didn’t drop them down my body seductively, they remained solely on mine. They’d darkened to a feral state. I flinched slightly. “Bishop—”
His hand flew to my chin, his fingers spread out over my cheeks. He stepped into the shower, clothes and boots on and backed me up against the wall. His lips came down to mine and softly brushed over them, sending tingles shooting down to my core. “Am I supposed to tell you those three little words in order for you to feel more secure? Mads? Fuck no!” His fists came up to either side of my head, caging me in. His head tilted, his eyes searching my face. “Do you know how many pieces of shit people tell their partner that they love them but go and do some shady shit behind their back? Do you wanna know what I think of the word love, Kitty? I think it’s bullshit. The word is bullshit, the meaning behind why people say it is bullshit.” His hips pressed forward, his jean-covered cock grinding against my bare pussy. My eyes drifted closed. I felt the tip of his nose near my earlobe. “It’s all a fucking fantasy. Putting words to that feeling doesn’t mean shit. I don’t need words to tell me what the fuck!” he paused, then bit down on my neck. His hands clamped around my upper thighs, hiking me up. I wrapped them around his waist and he slammed me against the wall again, the shower pelting down on us. “I feel.”
His lips went back to hovering over mine. “Open your eyes,” he growled over my lips. Shit. My stomach was doing somersaults and everything south was clenching in angst. “Now, Kitty,” he ordered, his chest rumbling against my nipples. I opened my eyes, ignoring the droplets of water that were slipping through my lashes. His eyes were on mine, his hair soaked from the water and his dark t-shirt clinging to his flesh, curving around every muscle. “I feel something for you, Madison. Something I’ve never felt for anyone—ever. But love isn’t a strong enough word to even come close to what the fuck I feel for you. The word love is the most overused fucking word in the dictionary, and I can say right now that I’ve never told anyone those words ever. Not even my mother.” He paused, and took a breath, his finger brushing over my lips. “But fuck me, Mads. If this is love, then I’ve loved you since the day I first saw you in the cafeteria.” My chest swelled so thick it felt as though my heart was going to pound out of my chest. My eyes were going cross-eyed from looking at his lips. Then his mouth came to mine. I opened up for him slightly, his tongue slipping into my mouth and then he pulled back and searched my eyes. “I love you, too.”
My knees buckled and all feeling below my knees went numb. His grip on my thighs tightened and my head sunk into the crook of his neck. Sobs came slowly.
“You better not be fucking crying, Madison, I swear to God.”
I laughed, bringing my head up to face him. My hands came to his cheeks, and even though it felt as though my throat was raw and swollen from everything that had just happened, I shook my head. “Kiss me.” I had nothing else to say to what he had just said. He hitched me up with one hand and used the other to tug off his shirt from the back of the collar. He threw his shirt out of the shower and his lips smashed into mine. My arms wrapped around the back of his neck as I squeezed him into me more, grinding myself over his belt. His hand reached down as he unbuckled it and tugged them down. His hand brushed over my sex and I moaned, biting down on my lip from his touch. He chuckled and slowly put me back on my feet.
> “What’re you doing?” I asked absently, already missing his touch. He dropped down in front of me, his belt unbuckled, his abs tensing from the motion, and hiked my leg over his shoulder. He smirked up at me from below. I moaned again from the view. I was taking a mental photo of this picture, for later use… then his eyes went straight to my core and his tongue came out to lick his lips. He enclosed his mouth over me. I groaned, my head pressing into the hard wall. “Oh my God…” His tongue swirled around my clit and his finger came to my entrance where he sunk it in and curled it, hitting my spot effortlessly. I rode against him shamelessly, my orgasm building at fast speeds. He switched up, his tongue diving inside, and I lost all of my control as my muscles tightened, then released as my orgasm rippled through me. He stood back up, licking his fingers like you would food.
“Come here.” Then he grabbed my legs again and wrapped them around my waist. His lips crashed into mine as he sunk himself inside of me. I tightened around him, still pulsing from the aftershocks of my orgasm, but his intrusion was enough to set me off again.
“Look at me, baby,” he growled, slowly pulling out and then sinking back in. “This is mine. Do you understand?” His motion picked up to a faster pace. “Kitty…” he warned, his hand coming to my throat. “I may love you, but I’ll still fuck you until you’re black and blue. Don’t test my shit, Madison.” His grip tightened around my throat and I choked from the lack of air.
“I’m all yours, Bishop. Forever.”
“No one will touch this. Ever.” He pounded into me relentlessly. I was sure there would be bruising inside from his brutality. Our skin slapped together and sweat leaked out of my pores. His other hand went back to my thigh and he clenched down roughly as his pace picked up again to a feral penetrating motion. My inner thighs were stretched and aching from the roughness of his slamming.