Bishop's Pawn Read online

  The rest was a matter between him and his conscience. After he had climbed down off the ledge from thinking they were in need of an emergency room visit after being bloodied, he felt the crushing squeeze of disappointment.

  The grim face of his reflection was a great indication of significant inner turmoil.

  He was disappointed.

  Jesus.

  Disappointed that a girl who was too young for him, that he’d known for less than a couple of weeks, wasn’t pregnant. Wasn’t knocked up. Wasn’t going to have his kid.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  The air dryer was so loud in the small space that he couldn’t think and a good thing too because his attention needed to be on Matty. He had to remember that everything they saw and did was new to him.

  When they left the men’s room and passed through the small dining room, Matty stopped to stare at the big flat screen on the wall playing Sponge Bob cartoons. His interest lasted ten seconds, and then he shrugged and looked at Roman.

  Roman shrugged back. “I know, right?”

  Kelly was coming from the ladies’ room, saw them and walked over. He knew that she wasn’t a big fan of TV. Not for Matty. She controlled the boy’s screen access with an iron fist that he found easy to applaud.

  “I’m hungry, Kik.”

  Kelly looked at him. He looked at her. He saw an apology in her expression. The same one he was sure she saw on his face. He didn’t want to argue or make this any harder for her than it was.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “Hamburger okay? I’ll go order.”

  “Yay! Hangaburger,” Matty squealed.

  “With milk,” Kelly chimed in. “No soda.”

  “What about you,” he asked. “Feel like eating?”

  She held up her finger and crooked it for him to move closer and catch her whisper. “Um, can you just make the decisions? I’m having a hard time, and…”

  He silenced her with a swift, publically acceptable kiss. “Take Matty and grab a booth. Away from the TV. On the other side, near the window. You leave everything to me.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her small voice had the unmistakable shakiness of someone near his or her breaking point.

  “Beverage preference, Carina?”

  “Tea. Do they have tea? Tea would be good.”

  She was charmingly unsure of herself in the new surroundings. He’d be wise to remember that as they went forward.

  They lingered in the booth for a long time. He made no moves to hurry anyone up so they could get back on the road. This wasn’t a sprint to the finish line. Slow and steady would win in the end.

  “Oh hey, look,” he chuckled when it dawned on him that they had Wi-Fi and phone service now. Retrieving his phone, he went to the pictures and brought up the shots Rhi sent of the loft.

  “Here’s my place. Check it out!”

  Matty and Kelly leaned across the table and peered intently at the first photo.

  Laughingly, he pointed out the obvious. “Not that you should care about the bathroom, but here ya’ go.”

  “Wooooow,” Matty mumbled. “Is that a bathtub?”

  “Yep. Rhiann calls it a soaking tub.” He rolled his eyes to let them know what he thought of the term. On a quiet aside to Kelly, he added, “Tile shower big enough for two.”

  She blushed and gave him the cutest stink eye ever.

  “Here’s the kitchen,” he said next.

  Matty giggled. “What’s in all the cabinets?”

  “Stuff,” Roman quipped.

  The next photo showed the living room and fireplace. “My favorite chair,” he pointed out.

  “Look at the books Kiki!”

  “Matthew. This will be your room. You can decorate it however you want.”

  Both of them sat forward to inspect the picture. A rectangular room with an enormous high window at one end, it had hardwood floors, and all of the walls were exposed red brick.

  He felt like a realtor as he extolled the perfection of the small room. “Plenty of space for a bedroom suite and a desk. And look,” he said scrolling quickly to another picture, “I use this as a little den area. We can set this space up with your toys and stuff. Cool, huh?”

  “Where’s Kiki’s room?”

  Oh shit. Uh….

  He flipped to the shot of the master and looked at Kelly. Her face had the same oh shit expression.

  “Well big guy, here’s the thing. Only two bedrooms, so Kelly has to bunk with me.”

  Matty eyed him skeptically. “Lemme see.”

  Now, in his defense, he only balked for a nanosecond. Not because he was afraid there’d be a flashing neon sign over the bed declaring him an unabashed dominant, but because he wasn’t sure how much the kid needed to know. For someone about to turn four he handled himself like an adult, but what the hell could he possibly know about what went on between the sexes?

  The kid eyeing the picture acted like an art expert looking for signs of fakery. He studied the four-poster bed and simple furnishings for what seemed like a dog’s age. Finally, the boy looked at him and then turned to Kelly.

  “The bed looks big enough, Kik. It is, right?”

  She was studying the picture too. Did she envision being tied, spread-eagle, to the four posts? God, he hoped so.

  “Seems okay,” she murmured.

  “Hey,” Matty blurted out a bit louder than necessary. “Are you Kiki’s boyfriend?”

  Kelly nearly jumped out of her skin, but he stepped in and settled the whole thing. There weren’t going to be any more secrets. Not if he could help it.

  “Yep!” he crowed. “Can you believe it?”

  “That’s so cool. Is that why she’s always kissing you? Where’d you learn how, Kik?”

  Roman’s barking laugh couldn’t be helped. The stupefied look on her face was that funny.

  “Excuse me,” he drawled with an affronted huff. “I taught her. And she’s good at it too.”

  “Roman,” Kelly snapped. Her brows bumped together in censure, but he just grinned.

  Matty wasn’t letting it go. “But I thought boys did the kissing.”

  Kelly groaned and hid her face in her hands.

  “Not if he finds the right girl.”

  The factual comment earned a kick in the shins that made him jump.

  But just like that the kid shifted to an entirely different topic and shut down further conversation.

  “May I have a cookie now?”

  Roman picked up the single-serve milk and shook it. “Sucked it dry,” he exclaimed at the same time that he gave Matty a high five across the table. Then they looked expectantly at Kelly.

  Ever the über efficient, practical one, Kelly’s forehead puckered as she barked instructions. Jumping through her hoops was fun. He liked the bossy miss thing she had going on. When they were alone, all that energy got channeled into other things. Demanding things without the bossy edge.

  Squaring her shoulders, she laid down the law. “You’re on restroom duty,” she told him. “Face and hands. For real. Not a quick pass under the water.”

  To Matty, she said, “Potty first and then wash up. Tuck in your shirt, too. I want to see two gentlemen walking to the car. Got it?”

  Like it was scripted, he and Matty saluted her in unison before doing as they were told. At the door to the men’s room, he held it open so the boy could scamper inside. Roman peered across the open space to Kelly waiting by the trashcan. The look of love on her face tugged at his heart.

  For Matty? Absolutely, but holy god did he ever hope that at least some sliver was reserved for him.

  The rest of the road trip wasn’t nearly as tense. Or silent. When they’d sat down to eat, he’d all but forced her to take an analgesic to ease her discomfort. She’d tried a snotty put-down but he persisted and won in the end. It blew his mind that popping some ibuprofen when she had her period wasn’t an automatic. Then he remembered who he was dealing with. Her first aid kit was stocked for major eme
rgencies, not boo boos or aches and pains.

  She wasn’t chatty, but the go-fuck-yourself vibe wasn’t shooting from her eyes like solar flares anymore.

  He gave a hasty glance over his shoulder. Matty was conked out in a kid sprawl. His eyes shifted to the female next to him. Kelly scratched her chin and smoothed her hands down the buttons of her shirt. She appeared oblivious to everything, but he knew different.

  “Mind if I ask something?” he asked softly.

  Fiddling with a button, she murmured, “Sure.” The delivery sounded nonchalant, but he knew about these things, and she was anything but.

  “Why haven’t you told Matty about Liam?”

  Her answer was emphatic and immediate. “I have told him.”

  “Hon, saying there’s a friend of mine I want you guys to meet isn’t in the same ballpark as saying hello to your older brother.”

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  A weatherman needed to whip out the windchill gauge because the frosty blast coming from her side of the truck cab was quite chilling.

  “Care to let me in on what it is that you’re doing?”

  “Can’t you just trust me?”

  If she needed reassurance, he’d give it, but she had to recognize the flip side of the coin.

  “I trust you completely. You know I do. I’m dead serious about turning around if you decide you can’t do this. But what about you trusting me? We’re on the same side. All I’m saying is don’t shut me out. Maybe I can help.”

  He’d never been this open, this straightforward, or been this fearlessly confident. Being all those things was important.

  “I’m a rotten sharer, I know. But being sorry about not knowing how to be a lover or a friend is a waste. I’ve never had friends. Confiding in someone isn’t on my list of things to do because it’s not an option. Or it wasn’t an option. This stuff is hard for me. I know it shouldn’t be, but it is.”

  “Is that your way of saying it’s you and not me?”

  “Yes. And because I can’t say sorry I have to ask you not to be mad.”

  “I’m not mad at all, but now that you’ve explained a little I am going to let you know when it feels like you’re shutting me out.”

  Since reading body language was a big part of an interrogator’s skill set he noticed everything. She shifted in her seat and angled her body toward him.

  “Oh god,” she grunted. “Will there be rules? There will, won’t there? The saucy smirk she threw out felt like a gift. A wicked challenge.

  “Nice try.”

  She gave him an innocent look.

  “Now that you brought it up, you’re damn straight there are going to be rules. But don’t distract me. I asked a question.”

  “Oh fine,” she bit out. Plucking imaginary lint off her sleeve, she started spelling it out.

  “If I all of a sudden one day pop up and say we’ve got a brother, he’s going to think I knew all along. I don’t want his future dragged apart by suspicion. Secrets like that almost torpedoed my life. I can’t have that for Matty. So, he gets the truth.”

  The truth? Hmm. What was the truth from her standpoint? He was intrigued.

  “He has to be the one. Not me. Let him explain. There’s no way I’m taking that on. He knew. We didn’t. I’m done being a pawn in anybody’s game.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. She was so much like Liam that it was scary. Her temperament was eerily similar, only from a shit-kicking female point-of-view. Rhiann was going to adore this girl.

  But not as much as he did.

  “We’ll be in Amarillo in the next hour. Do you care where we stay?”

  She sighed and scrunched up her face. “Remember the part about you making the decisions? Come on. Cut me a break.”

  “Well in that case,” he teased, “no snide remarks from the peanut gallery about what I decide.”

  “One request though if you don’t mind. Please don’t put me in a situation that will be uncomfortable.”

  “Aw, hon. Relax,” he told her with grinning authority. “We’re road tripping not hanging out at the Four Seasons. You’ll see. We’ll blend in, and no one will look at us twice.”

  “Good.”

  She had more to say. There was hesitation and an unfinished quality to her single word statement. But she held her tongue, and in a way he was glad.

  Considering himself a man of the world, he had a pretty clear idea of what was bothering her. Flannel shirts and heavy boots in Oklahoma versus what she imagined New York City was like. And she wasn’t all that wrong, but he was counting on Rhiann to step in and handle that whole thing. After all, she had several years in the fashion business under her belt and was the undisputed fashionista of her three equally gorgeous sisters. Easing Kelly from the woods to the concrete jungle of Manhattan was a task she was more than capable of handling.

  When the first sign for the Amarillo exits appeared, she sat up straighter and gave the countryside her attention.

  “It’s so flat,” she murmured.

  Deciding on a Holiday Inn Express on the outskirts of town, he got them checked into adjoining rooms and had their overnight stuff loaded onto a cart while Kelly woke Matty up and got him situated.

  He was all wide-eyed and amazed as they entered the cheerful lobby and made their way to the elevator. When it dinged, and the gleaming stainless steel doors opened, Matty froze.

  “It’s an elevator,” Roman told him. “Come on. It’s fun. There’s a button you can push.” He held out his hand, and Matty cautiously transferred from Kelly to him. He felt like a million god damn dollars when the little boy took his hand.

  Shoving the luggage cart in and to one end of the mirrored car, he helped Kelly with a gentlemanly hand and kept Matty close.

  “We’re on the third floor so push this button young man,” he directed with a pointed finger.

  The elevator moved smoothly upward. Though Kelly’s face was blank and unreadable, she seemed okay. He was so new at this he didn’t know what to react to and what to let slide.

  Never had a highway hotel been viewed more positively or as enthusiastically as this HI Express. Matty reacted as though their rooms were at the Taj Mahal. Roman didn’t know it was possible to say wow that many times.

  He led them around the basic room and explained everything. Showed them the nearly hidden refrigerator, pointed out the coffee pot and played around with the hair dryer.

  The personal toiletries fascinated Matty, but it didn’t prevent him from grumbling about the lack of smelly soap. Kelly sprang into action, ripped apart the largest of their duffles and produced a pump bottle of hand soap carefully secured in a plastic bag. With some adorable flourish, she saved the day, and he was aware yet again that this transition wasn’t going to be easy.

  Sometimes simplicity is an end rather than a beginning. Having a lot of stuff didn’t make a bit of difference at the end of the day. This random thought brought Adam Ward to mind.

  Now there was a man with a lot of stuff. He lived for his stuff. The more stuff he had, the happier he was. The man lorded his stuff over everyone like somehow that made him a better man. For men like Ward, stuff was the symbol of his moral lapses. He was the Gollum of stuff. It was all precious and his.

  Liam deprived Adam Ward of his stuff. It took time, but there was no argument that when all was said and done, the score was Liam Ashforth twenty-five, as in million, and Ward? He was left with a sum less than one. And he’d taken the man down with cruel disregard coupled with a viciousness that earned Liam a wide berth in the business world.

  Kelly, on the other hand, was the queen of anti-stuff. Her whole existence was built on a single point—what is the function of stuff? If the answer wasn’t concrete, immediate and practical, she moved on. Oh, and he’d discovered that persuading her to take another look was a huge waste of time. Once she had her mind made up, that was it.

  He pointed out the extra pillows and made a huge production of explaining the enterta
inment options. Kelly’s immediate scowl was as predictable as the hard-on it triggered, so he was ready for her when she tried to shut him down.

  In truth, he admired her resolute determination to raise Matty as a real, live boy and not a Nielson audience subject. There was no disputing the advantages of growing up in the natural world. The wonders found along a stream winding through the woods or a tire swing hanging from a tree limb in the yard nourished a curious mind far better than a game controller or an HD movie with surround-sound.

  He would know, after all. That’s how he and his siblings were raised. It wasn’t a mistake or a quirk or a coincidence that he was well-read and a life-long student of philosophy. To him, losing one’s self in deep thought had as much benefit if not more than an award-winning documentary. First hand, immersive experiences helped shape him. Matty would be the same.

  Completely riding over the objections he saw forming on her lips, he quickly scrolled through the available listings, found what he was looking for, and brought up the on-demand classical music channel. He was about to point out the bottom left where the current selection’s information was displayed when a picture of a cloud-shrouded Bavarian castle played on the screen. Matty’s wondrous gasp got his attention.

  “Oh, Kiki,” he softly exclaimed. “Look! It’s your castle.”

  Kelly looked at the TV, smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “That’s a good one,” she joshed. “Bet it takes forever to sweep the floors, though, huh?”

  They cracked up laughing over the obvious inside joke. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard Matty speak of castles and Kelly in the same breath. The boy was obsessed with his Kiki having a castle. Next to dinosaurs and Mickey Mouse? Castles. Not knights or kings and queens—just the building itself.

  Unlatching the door connecting their room to his, he hurried next door and did the same on the other side. When both doors were fully open, he made a big deal of the fact that this was how it was going to be from now on. The three of them. Together.

  “This way,” he announced, “you can curl up in your very own bed while Kelly and I hang out in the other room. Isn’t that cool?”

  He caught Kelly’s curious gaze from the corner of his eye. Didn’t require a cheat sheet to tell him that she was thinking about the sleeping arrangements. They’d get to that later. First things first.