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

Jase stared between the two of us and then grinned. “How long is this little cute act going to last this time?” Bishop’s arm, that was wrapped around the back of my neck, tensed. I thought it was from Jase’s remark, but then he tucked me under his arm farther and kissed the top of my head.

“Has it ever really never been her?”

Jase’s grin deepened, his eyes continuously going between the two of us. “I guess not.”

My heart felt swollen in my chest, but my legs and muscles ached from fatigue, so I was thankful when Bishop led me to the stairs that were in the sitting room. I thought the room I went into earlier was the master bedroom, I guess not.

“Hey!” Jase yelled out, just as my hand landed on the railing. We both turned to look over our shoulders to find Hunter, Nate, and Brantley, all now smiling with eyes sparkling with adrenaline, grinning at us. It was the first time since before Bishop had found out about my shenanigans that there had been any sort of air of peace surrounding us all. I understood now. Why Bishop had to do what he did tonight. It was not only to make a point but to restore the peace within the group. The trust. They were like brothers, and unlike girls, they weren’t catty. They took their shit into a ring, punched it out, and then got over it. I guessed in their world, it was the only way they could live to survive amongst each other. It made sense.

“She’s still my little sister!”

“—Our…” Hunter added, whacking Jase.

“—Our plus me, fuckers,” Nate added, giving them a dirty look as he pulled open the fridge, taking out a drink. People were slowly pouring back into the main living areas now, the silent space slowly being filled with soft chitchat.

Bishop scoffed. “Don’t give a fuck. She’s Bishop’s, her eyes say so, her body says so, her” —he lifted my shirt so they could see his initials on my ribs— “skin says so—”

I interrupted, sending them all a wink. “Her heart sort of says so, too…” It was no secret to Bishop how I felt about him, I knew that, and I’m pretty sure everyone else knew that too, so it didn’t bother me with how forward I was with my wording. His grip tightened around me anyway, and then he led me upstairs.

“We’ve decided we’re too young to be uncles!” Nate called out from down below. Bishop flipped him off over the railing and I laughed, shaking my head. That would be a nightmare. Then it started to sink in…did I ever want kids? Right now wasn’t the time.

“Wow.” I took in the bedroom and all its glory. Where his room back home was all black and disturbed young teenager, his room here was an off-white. White enough to know it’s white, but a tint of cream stirred in to accentuate the pearl trimmings. It was an attractive and clean contrast that was warm and inviting, regardless of the bareness of it all. His bed was to the far left side of the room, so whoever was on one side got a full view of the city while the other could see downstairs. I loved it. I watched as flames from the gas fire licked up the wall opposite the bed, sending out hues of burnt orange to fill the dimly lit room. I let out a soft sigh.

“This place is truly beautiful, Bishop.”

When I didn’t get a response, I looked directly at him, only to find he was already watching me. An interesting look pulled over his features. It wasn’t something I had seen him display before, and made me a little nervous and jumpy. He still managed to make me feel fear, and I think he always would because that was just who he was, and who he was to his core. It wasn’t a front, it was just Bishop. He was real and would never put on a front to make someone more comfortable. You either took him as he was, or you didn’t. Either way, it would never bother him. No one bothered him—and that was half of the charm and half of the fear.

“What is it?” My fingers laced with my hands nervously.

He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, slightly leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees.

I followed, sitting beside him on the mattress, silently waiting for him to say something. Anything. For so long, I’d been wanting, praying, for him to open up to me a little. But every time he did open up, it seemed like all It would do is crack open more dark corners of his soul. It was an endless game of hide and seek where the counting was limitless.