Page 142
Story: Bishop's Queen
“Where?” Locke asked.
“Bomb dogs have her pegged in a room directly below stage. Waiting on bomb techs to arrive.”
Ella wouldn’t leave. Tara was directly below stage. Too much was happening. “Ella’s who you care about, Jay. Let’s talk about her.”
Jay held out his arm. “I always wondered if we could create pandemonium online like we just did in here.”
Then he tossed his head back. “Now, Bishop. Stakes are higher. You showed up, thinking Ella was queen of the castle. But then there’s Tara. What’s your move? Are you the queen’s Bishop, or do you play defense another way? Tick, tock. What to do?”
“Jay,” Ella cried out from offstage. “Why are you doing this?”
“Where is she?”
“Damn it,” Jared growled. “Locke, let her onstage, keep her close.”
As Ella came onstage, Jay twisted, studying her in such a detached way that Bishop’s blood slowed. The man was emotionless except for his focus on proving his issue to the camera and the Internet. The complete tunnel vision was terrifying.
“Ella,” Jay droned, unaffected by her hair clinging to her temples and the black streaks of makeup that marred her cheeks. “You had so many opportunities to do the right thing. I gave you so many chances. And now you’ve come to a point where you’re going to look back on your life and realize that you had a decision, and you messed up. You’re going to regret it for the rest of your life—however short or long that may be.” He looked at his phone and watched for several seconds. “Wow, they loved that line.”
Jay was watching the reaction on social media?What. The. Hell.
“I don’t know who you are right now,” Ella cried. “But this person? Whoever you’ve become? You’re nothing to me.”
“Wrong, Ella. You’re always wrong.”
“Bomb tech crew is with Tara,” Parker reported. “Keep him talking. This is almost done.”
Bishop rolled his tongue along the inside of his mouth. “This is what you want, Jay? Me to look at the camera?” He waved. “What else you got, man?”
“Want to know something?” Jay asked.
“Not really, dickhead. But shoot.”
“The second that the hydrogen peroxide dissolves through the layer in the bracelet’s clasp—kaboom.” Jay’s fist splayed and his fingers wiggled overhead. “You should know a thing or two about that from your military days. One of those things suicide bombers put in their vests.” Jay chuckled. “It doesn’t take a lot, does it?”
No, it didn’t. Bishop’s gaze dropped to Ella’s hand and back to Jay.
“Now that’sworryon your face.” He checked the phone. “Everyone agrees.”
If what Jay said was true… “Don’t move, El.”
“What?” she asked.
“Babe. Don’t move.” He pulled a breath through his teeth. There couldn’t be enough chemicals packed in that bracelet to blow up the stage. But it would be enough to kill her.
Where was the bomb squad? With Tara? Bishop wanted them upstairs. Was he going to ask that of Titan? When there was a camera on his face and the world watched?
“Ella, babe.” With each punch of his heartbeat, Bishop teetered on the edge of destruction. “Careful as you can, walk offstage with Locke.”
“You want her moving?” Parker asked. “It’s unstable.”
“You want this playing out on TV?” Jared demanded.
Parker’s keyboard clicked in the background. “Network cut broadcast already.”
“What the fuck are people watching?” Jared snapped.
“Fucking hell, I don’t know. There’s at least two cell phone feeds from the auditorium livestreaming onto the Internet.”
“Bomb dogs have her pegged in a room directly below stage. Waiting on bomb techs to arrive.”
Ella wouldn’t leave. Tara was directly below stage. Too much was happening. “Ella’s who you care about, Jay. Let’s talk about her.”
Jay held out his arm. “I always wondered if we could create pandemonium online like we just did in here.”
Then he tossed his head back. “Now, Bishop. Stakes are higher. You showed up, thinking Ella was queen of the castle. But then there’s Tara. What’s your move? Are you the queen’s Bishop, or do you play defense another way? Tick, tock. What to do?”
“Jay,” Ella cried out from offstage. “Why are you doing this?”
“Where is she?”
“Damn it,” Jared growled. “Locke, let her onstage, keep her close.”
As Ella came onstage, Jay twisted, studying her in such a detached way that Bishop’s blood slowed. The man was emotionless except for his focus on proving his issue to the camera and the Internet. The complete tunnel vision was terrifying.
“Ella,” Jay droned, unaffected by her hair clinging to her temples and the black streaks of makeup that marred her cheeks. “You had so many opportunities to do the right thing. I gave you so many chances. And now you’ve come to a point where you’re going to look back on your life and realize that you had a decision, and you messed up. You’re going to regret it for the rest of your life—however short or long that may be.” He looked at his phone and watched for several seconds. “Wow, they loved that line.”
Jay was watching the reaction on social media?What. The. Hell.
“I don’t know who you are right now,” Ella cried. “But this person? Whoever you’ve become? You’re nothing to me.”
“Wrong, Ella. You’re always wrong.”
“Bomb tech crew is with Tara,” Parker reported. “Keep him talking. This is almost done.”
Bishop rolled his tongue along the inside of his mouth. “This is what you want, Jay? Me to look at the camera?” He waved. “What else you got, man?”
“Want to know something?” Jay asked.
“Not really, dickhead. But shoot.”
“The second that the hydrogen peroxide dissolves through the layer in the bracelet’s clasp—kaboom.” Jay’s fist splayed and his fingers wiggled overhead. “You should know a thing or two about that from your military days. One of those things suicide bombers put in their vests.” Jay chuckled. “It doesn’t take a lot, does it?”
No, it didn’t. Bishop’s gaze dropped to Ella’s hand and back to Jay.
“Now that’sworryon your face.” He checked the phone. “Everyone agrees.”
If what Jay said was true… “Don’t move, El.”
“What?” she asked.
“Babe. Don’t move.” He pulled a breath through his teeth. There couldn’t be enough chemicals packed in that bracelet to blow up the stage. But it would be enough to kill her.
Where was the bomb squad? With Tara? Bishop wanted them upstairs. Was he going to ask that of Titan? When there was a camera on his face and the world watched?
“Ella, babe.” With each punch of his heartbeat, Bishop teetered on the edge of destruction. “Careful as you can, walk offstage with Locke.”
“You want her moving?” Parker asked. “It’s unstable.”
“You want this playing out on TV?” Jared demanded.
Parker’s keyboard clicked in the background. “Network cut broadcast already.”
“What the fuck are people watching?” Jared snapped.
“Fucking hell, I don’t know. There’s at least two cell phone feeds from the auditorium livestreaming onto the Internet.”
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