“No need to thank us,” Edison said meekly. “We do this because we love our community. You guys keep having fun, and good luck with the raffle.”
Edison turned to walk away to the sound of more rambunctious applause when Skylar stepped between them. “And we don’t wanna forget to thank Mr. Bishop Stockley of Stockley Lawn Services for this amazing venue he’s created.”
Bishop glared at Skylar and mumbled a stern, “thank you” when he shoved the mic so close to his lips, he almost made him kiss the fucking thing. Skylar laughed as if they were old friends, and hung on to his shoulder when he tried to walk away.
“Don’t go just yet. We have a special recognition for Stockley Lawn Service from the Mayor’s Office located right here in Town Center!” There were ohhs and ahhs from the crowd as Skylar reached behind him just in time for Jessica to hand him a small eight-by-ten plaque. “And our firm is humbled that such a prestigious company as yours was willing to do all of this for our community.”
Skylar held the shiny mahogany and black presentation in his hand and brought the microphone to his mouth. “This is so beautiful you guys. Listen to this… To Stockley Lawn Service. Thank you for your tireless efforts in building our community—” Skylar stopped. “Oh hell. I’m being rude, aren’t I? I’m acting like this is my recognition. I didn’t do any of this amazing work. Bishop Stockley did ladies and gentlemen.”
Skylar turned to face Bishop head-on, staring him dead in his eyes, and shoved the thick plaque at his chest and let it go. “Please Bishop. Read it for all of us,” he said, handing Bishop the microphone.
Bishop stood there stunned, realizing that once again he’d underestimated his enemy. The crowd was silent as they waited for him to finish the message. But his first glance at the fancy cursive writing and he knew it wasn’t happening. He didn’t realize he was squeezing the hell out of the award until he heard his knuckles popping and Edison calling his name faintly.
Skylar stepped forward, feigning concern. “Is… I’m sorry is there something wrong?”
This guy should’ve gotten an Oscar because Bishop had never seen such convincing acting. He knew that Skylar had read the transcript and found out exactly why Bishop had gotten a lesser sentence. And the crafty motherfucker had waited until the perfect moment to make that information public and to humiliate him all at the same time.
“Oh no,” Skylar said slowly peeling the microphone from Bishop’s tight fist. “You can’t read it. Oh my god, I didn’t know. I’m… I’m so sorry, Bishop. I didn’t realize.” Skylar waved his hand to silence the hushed whispers. “Please, please stop everyone. There’s no shaming allowed here. No worries, all right. The Mayor’s commemoration will be hung on the wall in the lobby Monday morning for anyone who wants to read it.”
Bishop’s vision hazed over and all he could see was red. His leg began to shake when he caught the shifty eyes of the crowd. Even Ms. Strollenburg and her grandchildren were all staring up at him with shock and pity. Fuck! Fuck me! He knew this had been a bad idea.
“Bishop.”
He was barely able to tear his eyes away from Skylar as Edison stood in front of him with a look of horror on his red face. “Is it…what’s…?” He was embarrassed. Bishop felt his forearm straining as he balled his fist up as tightly as he could. He was going to fucking kill that piece of shit.
“Bishop, no! Don’t!” Mike yelled from somewhere, pushing his way towards the stage. “Trent!”
At least he thought that’s what he heard. He could just make out his dad’s face, the scowl overtaking his features, as he struggled to get to him. Mike knew… knew he was about to throw the rest of his life away. Bishop cocked his elbow back just as Trent slammed into his chest and pushed him backwards until they were stumbling off the platform.
“Okay. Does everyone have those raffle tickets out? Come on now, we have a ton of stuff to give away and you don’t want to miss out!” Mila said with enthusiasm as she tried to pry the curious eyes away from his and Edison’s drama.
Bishop didn’t know how she’d stolen the show from Skylar, but it’d taken Trent, his dad, and Manny to get Bishop away from the bastard as he stood there with the most victorious grin he’d ever seen. Mike hustled him into the truck in the parking lot and yelled for Trent to get him out of there.
He didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye to Edison.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Edison
“Edison, wait,” Presley called after him as he ran through the parking lot as fast as his legs would go. He had to catch up with Bishop. He heard the sound of her sandals clicking across the asphalt but he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. “Edison!”