Page 43
Story: Bishop's Queen
“I don’t know, seemed like your buddy was cheating, but whatever, easy cash.”
“For what?” Bishop roared.
“Whatever you guys called it, hand-to-hand paintball. Or whatever this crap is.”
Bishop snarled. His chest rumbled low and deadly. She watched his eyes dart around the empty street, and if she’d been on the receiving end of his wrath, she might’ve peed or passed out. Part of her wanted to chirp up that violence wasn’t the answer, but she wasn’t the one covered in who-knew-what, and the cops were the reasonable answer.
Bishop inched closer to the man. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The other team paid me,” he sputtered. “I thought it was all fun.” He looked at her, his eyes narrowing. “And… games.”
“Eyes on me.” Bishop leaned even closer. “Keep explaining.”
“On Monarch. I grabbed the gig in the DC-Northern Virginia IRL forum.”
“IRL?” Bishop asked.
“In real life,” she said.
The guy nodded. “Moolah came through up front.” His voice wavered. “With directions and where to get her.” He paused. “Sorry. I thought it was a thing. A game.”
“How much?”
“Hundred bucks.”
“How?”
“MonarchMoney,” their goo thrower volunteered.
Ella bit her lip. Again with the untraceable cash sent through social media.
“Christ,” Bishop grumbled. “Call your FBI contact, Ella.”
“What?” The guy’s eyes bulged. “I honestly just thought it was fun times. I read the whole thing wrong. Look, I’m sorry. Your name is Ella? Ella, I’m sorry. I—oh my freakin’ God. Are you Eco-Ella?” He took a step forward. “You’re Ella Leighton.”
Bishop dropped his head back. “This is happening?”
She was hesitant and didn’t know how to react. The guy had been paid to slime her, but he just morphed into an okay fan. “Hi, yes. That’s me.”
“I’m, like, a huge fan. Seriously. I’m so sorry. So sorry.”
“Not a big deal.” She bit her lip, having no idea what the right response was. People played Pokémon Go, they married after meeting online, so surely they would take online money and agree to play paintball. Why would anyone think it was nefarious? Right? The guy was a college kid. This was their world… how they grew up. She tried to put herself in his shoes and understand.
“It is a big deal, El,” Bishop added, not putting himself in anyone’s shoes but his own. “It’s a big fucking deal. You, asshole, threw crap on a stranger for cash. Do you realize how screwed up that is?” He shook his head, backing up, and mumbled, “What kind of world do we live in right now?”
The kid pulled his phone from his back pocket. “Could I get a picture with you?”
“Are you shitting me?” Bishop snapped.
“Um…” She grinned uncomfortably. “It’s been a really crazy night. I’m not sure.”
Bishop pivoted to her, and his hardened jaw hung slack. “This is not okay. Do you not know that, Ella? The answer isno.No pictures.”
She tried to turn on some sort of telepathic portal between them that screamed this was her job and she was trying to figure out what the right move was. Him yelling like a protective buffoon wasn’t it. But, obviously, they didn’t have their telepathic wavelengths set up yet.
Awkwardly, Ella shifted between the two men. “He didn’t know.” Really, what she needed to do was manage how this conversation went before it ended up on a Monarch forum. Ella had one chance to control how the story would be presented to the public. “Sure, one picture would be sweet.”
“He took money to slime a stranger. He’s lucky he’s living.”
“For what?” Bishop roared.
“Whatever you guys called it, hand-to-hand paintball. Or whatever this crap is.”
Bishop snarled. His chest rumbled low and deadly. She watched his eyes dart around the empty street, and if she’d been on the receiving end of his wrath, she might’ve peed or passed out. Part of her wanted to chirp up that violence wasn’t the answer, but she wasn’t the one covered in who-knew-what, and the cops were the reasonable answer.
Bishop inched closer to the man. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The other team paid me,” he sputtered. “I thought it was all fun.” He looked at her, his eyes narrowing. “And… games.”
“Eyes on me.” Bishop leaned even closer. “Keep explaining.”
“On Monarch. I grabbed the gig in the DC-Northern Virginia IRL forum.”
“IRL?” Bishop asked.
“In real life,” she said.
The guy nodded. “Moolah came through up front.” His voice wavered. “With directions and where to get her.” He paused. “Sorry. I thought it was a thing. A game.”
“How much?”
“Hundred bucks.”
“How?”
“MonarchMoney,” their goo thrower volunteered.
Ella bit her lip. Again with the untraceable cash sent through social media.
“Christ,” Bishop grumbled. “Call your FBI contact, Ella.”
“What?” The guy’s eyes bulged. “I honestly just thought it was fun times. I read the whole thing wrong. Look, I’m sorry. Your name is Ella? Ella, I’m sorry. I—oh my freakin’ God. Are you Eco-Ella?” He took a step forward. “You’re Ella Leighton.”
Bishop dropped his head back. “This is happening?”
She was hesitant and didn’t know how to react. The guy had been paid to slime her, but he just morphed into an okay fan. “Hi, yes. That’s me.”
“I’m, like, a huge fan. Seriously. I’m so sorry. So sorry.”
“Not a big deal.” She bit her lip, having no idea what the right response was. People played Pokémon Go, they married after meeting online, so surely they would take online money and agree to play paintball. Why would anyone think it was nefarious? Right? The guy was a college kid. This was their world… how they grew up. She tried to put herself in his shoes and understand.
“It is a big deal, El,” Bishop added, not putting himself in anyone’s shoes but his own. “It’s a big fucking deal. You, asshole, threw crap on a stranger for cash. Do you realize how screwed up that is?” He shook his head, backing up, and mumbled, “What kind of world do we live in right now?”
The kid pulled his phone from his back pocket. “Could I get a picture with you?”
“Are you shitting me?” Bishop snapped.
“Um…” She grinned uncomfortably. “It’s been a really crazy night. I’m not sure.”
Bishop pivoted to her, and his hardened jaw hung slack. “This is not okay. Do you not know that, Ella? The answer isno.No pictures.”
She tried to turn on some sort of telepathic portal between them that screamed this was her job and she was trying to figure out what the right move was. Him yelling like a protective buffoon wasn’t it. But, obviously, they didn’t have their telepathic wavelengths set up yet.
Awkwardly, Ella shifted between the two men. “He didn’t know.” Really, what she needed to do was manage how this conversation went before it ended up on a Monarch forum. Ella had one chance to control how the story would be presented to the public. “Sure, one picture would be sweet.”
“He took money to slime a stranger. He’s lucky he’s living.”
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