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

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 strong 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.