Bishop: A True Lover's Story

“Did you do anything else… like… um.” Royce shrugged. “Did you take any classes? I’ve heard of people getting degree—”

“Nope.” Bishop didn’t sneer but he knew what Royce was asking. “I’m still stupid.” With the IQ of an ant.

Royce sighed and fell the last few inches against the door. He stared upward as if he was asking God why. “Bishop, come on. You know that’s not…”

Bishop closed some of the distance between them. “Not what?”

Royce opened his eyes slowly, staring at Bishop the way he used to when he wanted him to make him feel better. Oh shit. Bishop felt his stomach flip. He wasn’t supposed to do this. He was there to…

“You know I didn’t mean that stuff. I loved you.”

Loved? Noted.

“You meant everything to me. I was going crazy thinking about you leaving me and going to prison. So yeah. I said any and everything I could.” Royce pushed away from the wall and squared his shoulders. He was a few inches shorter than Bishop but still tall. “I thought you’d be appreciative since it worked.”

Bishop dipped his head. “Yeah it did.” His voice was rough. “It worked like a charm. Their testing showed I was just as dumb as you said, and just like that I was pleaded down to accessory.”

“And those other bastards, the real idiots that put you in the middle of their shit got twenty years.” Royce’s hand came up as if he was about to touch him then shook his arm and dropped it back to his side. “They shot and paralyzed a man for not giving up the few bucks he had in his cash register. They deserved what they got. But you. I know you. You would’ve never approved of anything like that. You or that prick, Trent. Funny I didn’t get a thank you from him either.”

Don’t hold your breath. Bishop thought back to Royce’s testimony. He’d told the prosecutor the absolute truth. That he and Trent had played video games at their tiny apartment the night before, drinking brews and smoking weed until he’d crashed on their couch. Bishop and Royce had had sex twice before passing out in their bed until noon the next day. That afternoon when he’d left to hang with his crew, they’d walked him into a store and pulled guns while he and Trent had been picking out beer from the goddamn cold case. “Yeah. He thinks you could’ve left some things out.”

“It wasn’t enough, and you know it. Your lover’s word against theirs.” Royce pinched the bridge of his nose. “I would’ve said anything for them to let you out. I needed you so badly. I knew if you left…”

“It’d be over.” Bishop wasn’t sure what else he needed to say. The way Royce was painfully confessing how much he’d wanted Bishop to stay was affecting him in a way he didn’t want it to.

“I was run out of the neighborhood when you left! From our place,” Royce suddenly barked. “Snitches get fucking stitches, ya know. Everyone hated me. Hated me for what I did to the great Bishop. I was the one that destroyed your rep. I was threatened and almost killed, if it wasn’t for Sly. He helped me get out of Norfolk. He said he hated me too, but he was helping me for you.”

Now Bishop knew why Sly had told him where to find Royce.

“I didn’t know,” Bishop said, leaning towards Royce’s rigid body. He was vibrating with fury and passion. This was the Royce he knew. Dramatic and beautiful. He had to ask, he needed to know. “You just disappeared on me. Why didn’t you come to see me? Not once. Why not one letter Royce?”

“How would you have read it?” Royce whispered.

Fucking hell. Bishop could only release the startled breath that’d gotten caught in his throat. That was some harsh damn truth right there. He guessed there was no way for Royce to know that Bishop had been paired with a decent cellmate who’d read the letters to him he’d gotten from Trent and Mike.

“I didn’t want anyone else reading what I wanted to tell you. What I felt when you left. I didn’t even want to acknowledge those feelings to myself, Bishop. How could I write to you about my sleepless nights in a cold bed, huh? What would that have done for either of us? Should I have come there on visiting day and begged you to break out of there? That I needed you home like I needed oxygen. Don’t you get it? I couldn’t see my man like that. Caged-up. I couldn’t, Bishop.”

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d grabbed Royce and pulled him tight against his chest and held him like he never had before. Held him like he hadn’t held a man in five years. He almost groaned when Royce’s strong arms wrapped around his waist and his face went to the spot it’d always had when they’d been a couple, just at the base of his throat. Mmmmm. That hot breath against his neck sent chills all over his warm skin.