Tacet a Mortuis (The Elite King's Club 3)

“Get in the fucking car, Kitty!”

Guess I was getting in the car.

I squeezed into the limo, because now all the Kings, plus the slut was in the back. Slut being right beside Bishop and me on the other side. Remembering it was close to midnight, I yawned. My body was aching and my eyes were heavy.

“Bishop, can you take me home?” I needed sleep, stat.

“Gladly,” Khales snickered, her hand going to Bishop’s thigh. I turned rigid, then my eyes went to Jase.

“What were you two lovebirds doing? You’re both still alive, which is a good thing…” Jase chuckled.

“Getting tattoos,” I admitted as if it was no big deal. Their eyes scanned me up and down, and then went to Bishop, finally seeing the swan on his neck. That became the topic of conversation and I took this time to gaze out the window, wallowing in the empty feeling that had settled in my gut. I hated feeling like this, I hated feeling like I didn’t matter to him. I still didn’t have any answers, and like usual, everything was moving at Bishop’s pace—not mine.

“Mal is a fucking dope artist,” Cash nodded, gesturing to the swan.

“Thanks,” I muttered, my eyes closing. “I don’t think I’m too bad either, but last I checked, I owned a vag.”

“Wait, you did that?” Jase exclaimed, Hunter was still silent beside him. Probably still glaring at me.

“Yes.” I opened my eyes onto Bishop. “But that was after he stamped his initials over my ribs.”

They all started laughing, all except Khales. He still hadn’t moved her hand from his thigh. His eyes searched mine briefly and then his arm went behind my neck as he pulled my face into his, his lips now pressed against my ear. “I should make you pay, Kitty. Fucking badly, and I will, because you don’t get away with that shit easy, but for now…” His lips dropped to my neck and my eyes closed again as his tongue slipped over the most sensitive parts of my throat. “I’ll play with you a bit.” Then he sat up straighter, moved his thigh out of Khales’ grip and called out to the driver. “To mine, man!”

We pulled into Bishop’s driveway, and when the car came to a stop he got out with Khales, but I stayed in my seat. I needed sleep and food asap.

“Kitty…” he growled.

“I’m tired! Can we do this cat-mouse thing tomorrow? I don’t feel like fighting.”

“Get out. Now.”

I grumbled. “Bye, guys,” then stopped, just as I got out of the car and leaned back in to look directly at Hunter. “You and I are going to have words!” Then I shut the door and left Bishop behind, heading straight for the side gate. I spun around and looked directly at Khales, fuck my aching feet and drowsy eyes. “You can fuck off.”

“What?” She looked at Bishop, who was still looking at me.

“She’s right. Leave.”

“But—”

Bishop turned his eyes to her. “Leave. This is between her and I.”

I grinned, an eyebrow quirked and ran my eyes over her body. “You won’t wanna get blood on that pretty little outfit.”

Bishop snorted and shook his head, then I turned back around and sauntered to the pool house, opening the door and slamming it behind me when I noticed he wasn’t following me straight away. What the fuck was his deal with her. There had to be something else other than the fact that they were friends or whatever when they were young. She had to be of value to Bishop, or she wouldn’t be alive right now—that much I’m certain of. I rummaged through the kitchen pantry and pulled out a bag of potato chips, popping them open and then hopping onto the little kitchen island. I had mad food munchies going on right now.

“Bishop! I’m heading back to LA, can you please—” the voice cut off when it hit the kitchen, probably seeing me on the counter.

“Sorry,” I sucked the salt off my fingers. “Not Bishop.” I swung my eyes to where it came from, to see who it was when I paused. The woman was beautiful. She had razor sharp short hair that hung to her angular jawline, dark honey eyes, and a sun-kissed tan that actually looked natural. Oh holy shit. This was Scarlet Blanc, as in Bishop’s mom, as in A-lister star of all time. And I was sitting here, still slightly drunk, chomping down on potato chips and sucking salt off my fingers.

A smile curled her lips. “Well, considering my son doesn’t bring girls home, I’m gathering you’re Madison?”

I beamed embarrassingly, but my damn mouth. “Well, there is one other exception,” I finished with an eye roll. “I’m sorry, I’m still a little drunk and it’s been a long night, which is far from over, and I’m rambling. Yes, I’m Madison, so nice to meet you. I would give you my hand to shake, but it’s covered with salt and saliva, so I guess…” she hated me. I could tell.