Chapter Sixteen Samantha #3
“Well, he didn’t just die. He was murdered by a biker named Willie Bates.”
Bishop’s blue eyes widened. “Go on.”
Leaning back against the sink, I told him everything about that night. Then I told him about having to testify at the trial. “When Ansley took the stand, it sent me reeling with a flashback. I had to get out of there.”
Bishop drew me into his strong arms. His hands ran along my back. “I’m so sorry, babe,” he murmured into my ear.
It meant so much to have Bishop’s sympathy, because he knew what it was like to lose a loved one to a violent death. A quiet
“Thanks” left my lips, but otherwise, no other words seemed adequate.
He pulled back to look me in the eye. “Now it all makes sense about the way you felt about bikers. It went deeper than just what happened to Marley.”
“Yes. It does.”
“No one should have to go through what you did as a kid.”
Bishop’s hands came to cup my cheek. “If I could take the pain and hurt away from you, I would.”
Tears pooled in my eyes at his kind words, and I knew he was sincere about taking away my pain.
Once again, he was such a paradox of appearing so tough outside and being so tender on the inside.
Words seemed inadequate to express my gratitude.
All I could murmur was “You really are the sweetest man I know.”
When Bishop started to bring his lips to mine, I brought my hand up to stop him. “Trust me, you don’t want to do that.”
“You get sick or something?”
“Oh yeah. Big- time.”
He gave me a sympathetic smile. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
“What about Rev?”
“I’ll tell him you need to get back.”
“But then he’ll have to ride by himself.”
Bishop chuckled. “He’s a big boy, Sam. He can make it home on his own. He rode all the way to Virginia in the middle of December by himself.”
“What in the hell would possess him to do that?”
“He was going to tell Annabel he loved her.”
“Damn, that’s romantic,” I mused.
“Yeah, Rev’s a deep guy. He’s a hell of a lot more romantic than I’ll ever be.”
“I don’t think that’s necessarily true.”
He cocked his eyebrows at me. “You got some crazy feat in mind to make me prove myself?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t always have to be grand gestures. What you just did was pretty romantic.”
Bishop gave me a skeptical look. “I just came to look for you. I’d hardly call that really exceptional.”
“But you cared enough to be worried about me, and you came into the women’s bathroom to make sure I was all right.”
“Oh Jesus, I hadn’t even thought of that. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
I laughed as I let him drag me by the hand out the door. “I hate that I didn’t get to say good- bye to Ansley.”
“Don’t worry. She has plenty of support at the moment. Maybe
I can get her address and you can send a card or something.”
Once again, I was touched by his compassion. “Thanks. I would like that.”
As we pushed through the plate- glass door, Bishop said, “I just can’t wait for that piece of shit to go to prison. He’ll get tortured in there for being a kiddie rapist.”
“You and me both.”
We spent the rest of the walk to the bikes in silence. When Bishop handed me my helmet, I said, “Thanks.”
“It’s just a helmet.”
I smiled. “No. I mean, thanks for bringing me here today and letting me be a part of what you guys were doing.”
“You’re welcome. And I was glad to have you along.” He planted a soft kiss on my lips. “I always like having you with me.”
“And I like being with you,” I replied honestly. It was the truth.
Regardless of the reasons why I had originally started hanging out with Bishop, I genuinely enjoyed his company. At first, it had been more about friendship and now it was growing into something much more serious.
Although I knew we were on dangerous ground, I didn’t want to worry about it.
I just wanted to enjoy the moment. But in the back of my mind, I knew my secrets couldn’t stay buried forever.
You could only live a double life of lies for so long before it caught up with you and you had to pay the consequences.
I just never imagined how hard that would be.
When we got home, I was physically and emotionally wiped.
On the drive home, I’d had too much time to relive painful memories from the past of my father and some of Gavin.
While I knew I should head on home, I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day alone.
Part of me argued that I should go into work.
That at the very least I needed to talk to Peterson about what I had learned so far about the Raiders.
As if he sensed the way I was feeling low, Bishop said, “Why don’t you hang around for a while? Stay the night. You can always get up early in the morning to go home before work.”
Normally, I would have been determined to deal with my problems on my own and not rely on anyone else to get me through. But I didn’t do that. Instead, I kissed Bishop. “Thank you. I’d really like to stay.”
He smiled. “Good.”
“You’ll let me know when you get sick of me, won’t you?”
“I doubt that will ever happen, but if it does, I’ll be sure to let you know.” As he unlocked the front door, he asked, “Are you hungry?”
“I thought you didn’t have anything in the house to eat?”
“I don’t. But I’ll see if Mama Liz does.”
I laughed. “I think I’ll pass for now. I really just want to take a hot shower and then go to bed.” Bishop didn’t argue with me that it was only one in the afternoon. Instead, he just nodded.
Without another word to him, I cut through the bedroom and into the bathroom. After turning on the water, I stripped out of my clothes and dipped inside. The emotions of the day soon overwhelmed me.
Placing my arms on the tile, I buried my head in the backs of my
hands and sobbed. The sound of the shower curtain opening startled me, and I whirled around. Bishop stepped into the shower. Swiping the tears away, I asked, “What are you doing?”
“Getting clean. What does it look like I’m doing?” He picked
up the bar of soap and started scrubbing himself for good measure.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend so I can save face.”
“I’m just here taking a shower.” He stared pointedly at me.
“Unless you want to talk.”
Bringing my hands to my face, I moaned, “God, I hate myself for feeling this way.” As I peeked at him through my fingers, I added, “I hate letting you see me this way.”
Bishop drew me against his chest. “Don’t ever feel that way, Sam. I’m here for you no matter what. Today was a bad day for you.
It triggered a lot of long- buried emotions. I totally get that, and I totally get you having some meltdowns today.”
I rested my chin on his shoulder as I rubbed my hands along his broad back. “Even though I don’t want to believe you, deep down I know that you mean every word you say.”
“I do mean it.” He dipped his head to where his breath warmed against my ear. “Now, why don’t you let me take care of you for a little while?”
“Okay. I can try.”
Bishop turned me around to face the shower head. When he started sweeping the bar of soap over my skin, I glanced at him over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Taking care of you like I said.”
“You really don’t have to do this.”
“I know. But I want to.”
Instead of continuing to protest, I pinched my lips shut and just enjoyed what Bishop was doing.
It felt so intimate having his hands over my body in not just a sexual way.
There was tenderness and care in the way he soaped me up.
He took the time to massage my shoulders, and he planted tender kisses along my neck before he washed me there.
I’d never had a man take care of me before. Of course, I’d never really wanted or allowed one to. But something about Bishop made me want to give up a little control. He made it easy to want to give in to, since he was so attentive to my needs both in and out of the bedroom.
Once he had finished soaping me up, he took the shower head off and rinsed me.
When he stopped for a moment, I thought he was done, but he was lathering up his hands with shampoo.
“Sorry that you’re probably going to smell like a man with this soap and shampoo.
I don’t have anything feminine around here. ”
I laughed. “It’s okay. I want to smell like you.”
When he finished rinsing my hair, I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him against the shower wall. Staring at him in the eye, I slid down his body until I was on my knees before him.
“Sam, what are you doing?”