Chapter Nine Bishop #2
“That fucking blows.”
“Yeah, it does,” she said, and then gulped down several sips of beer. “In the end, I know how I felt about him and how he felt about me. Standing over his grave and throwing roses onto his casket wouldn’t change that. You know?”
Although I nodded, I still wanted that closure. Even if there was no way in hell he could hear me, I wanted to be able to say the things to Marley that would clear my conscience. But as I glanced across the table, I realized that I still had a chance to make things right.
“There’s something I really need to say to you.”
“Oh?”
I nodded and then proceeded to drain the rest of my beer.
After swiping the back of my mouth with my hand, I stared into Sam’s dark eyes.
All the guilt over Marley that I had been feeling the last week bubbled to the surface, and I began speaking it out loud.
I talked about Preacher Man’s murder and then Case’s.
When I finished, I rubbed the stubble on my chin and shook my head. “Jesus,
I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”
“Because I’m a woman or because you’re not used to talking about your feelings to anyone outside the MC?”
“Both really. As a hang- around, Marley wasn’t supposed to know shit about club business, and as a woman, you’re sure as hell not supposed to know.”
“But how can I understand what you’re talking about unless you’re honest with me?”
I held my hands up. “Look, all you need to understand is at the end of the day, I’m so fucking sorry for what happened to Marley.”
She stared at me for a moment, unblinking and unmoving, as if she was shocked that something so sincere could have come from me. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“That day . . . the way you looked at me after you found Gavin. I know you blamed me, too.”
“But I was in shock, Bishop. I might’ve thought the Raiders were at fault that day, but not you. And I still don’t think it was your fault.”
“In some ways, no, it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t the one who shot him, but at the same time, it was because of bad blood between my club and another. If he’d never met up with me, he would still be alive today.”
“It was an accident, Bishop. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she argued.
“Once again, you’re naive.”
Anger flashed in her eyes. “Then explain it to me.”
“I should have realized with the direction our club was taking, things could get dangerous at the run. I should never have let him come.”
Sam’s brow lined in confusion. “What do you mean ‘the direction of your club’?”
“Can’t tell you that, sugar. I’m already overstepping my bounds
enough as it is.”
Sam nibbled her lip before asking, “Did Marley know about the Cartel stuff?”
I shook my head. “As I said, he was just a hang- around. My brothers could have had me by the balls for telling him club business.” I gave her a pointed stare. “Just like they could for me telling you what I have.”
A nervous laugh escaped her. “Like I’m going to tell anyone.”
“You sure as hell better not. I’d hate to have to kill you.” As soon as I said the words, I grimaced. “Sorry. That was a badly timed joke.”
“It’s okay.” The waitress appeared with a new pitcher and refilled our beers. When we were once again alone, Sam leaned closer to me. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but I need to know for my sake . . . and for Marley’s. What were the reasons behind why he was in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
I exhaled slowly before chugging half of my beer. “Once again, I can’t tell you all the reasons behind why it happened. All I can say is people within our organization— the Raiders— aren’t happy that we don’t want to live as gangbangers anymore, and they took that
out on us.”
“I see,” she murmured.
Reaching across the table, I took her hand in mine. “I wish I could be more honest with you, and tell you everything you want to know. But I can’t.”
“I get it— I understand.” At what must’ve been my doubtful expression, she added, “I swear.”
“I’m glad.” I squeezed her hand before releasing it. “And I’m really glad you came to see me, Sam.”
“Me, too.”
“You know, you don’t have to be as alone as you think you are.”
Her eyes widened. “Even though Marley wasn’t a patched member or even a prospect, the Raiders look out for their own, especially wives and girlfriends. You don’t have to go through Marley’s loss . . . the grief . . . all on your own.”
“Who said I was?”
I shrugged. “No one. It’s just a feeling I have.” When she continued looking skeptically at me, I sighed. “Deep down, I think we’re a lot alike. So I just thought if you were handling things like I was, then you could use a friend to talk to.”
A confused look came over her face. “Why?”
“Because.”
“You’re right about me feeling alone . . . even isolated.”
Sam dropped her head to stare at the rim of her beer. “Guess it just wigged me out to hear you offering me a shoulder to cry on, because I just didn’t imagine bikers could ever be so honorable.”
“After what you’ve experienced, I can’t say I blame you for thinking we’re all soulless bastards.”
Her dark eyes jerked up to gaze into mine. “Excuse me?”
“You know, with Marley being killed by bikers.”
She exhaled a long breath. “Right. Yeah, I guess it is easy to paint you all as being bad.”
“The truth is we’re really not, especially not my chapter brothers.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
“Good. And no more being a stranger, okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“First way to remedy that is to give me your cell number.”
I wasn’t too surprised when she was a little hesitant.
Besides hiding her emotions like me, Sam had this whole aura about her that was like a feral cat— skittish and untrusting.
Finally, she took a pen out of her purse and grabbed one of the napkins on the table.
After she scribbled it down, she handed it to me.
“I hope that doesn’t end up on some MC bathroom wall to call for a good time,” she teased.
Chuckling, I shook my head at her. “You can rest assured that won’t happen.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said as she rose out of her chair.
I think we were both shocked as hell at her next move.
As she leaned over me, her long black hair covered me like a shroud, filling my nose with the sweet smell of her perfume.
The moment her lips touched my cheek, it felt like an electric shock through my body.
Samantha quickly jerked away. “ Good- bye, Bishop.”
“Bye, Sam.”
While she practically sprinted out the door, I remained dumbfounded in my chair by both her reaction and mine to the kiss. I didn’t think I could ever remember a time when a woman had given me a chaste kiss. Racking my brain came up with no one outside my family.
A small voice within me railed at me to toss Samantha’s number in the trash. It reasoned that there was something about her that was trouble . . . even dangerous. But like with so many times in my life, I chose to ignore that voice.