Page 97

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Jay couldn’t stop watching his clock app as he sat in his car catty-corner to Ella’s building. He tried to play chess on his phone, but all he could do was beat the game or wonder if Bishop would know the difference between chess and checkers.Likely not.
Ella’s flight had to have landed hours ago, and she should have been home. Her vague schedule said she would be home today. The last flights from all the local airports were mostly in. Where was she? And since when did he not get specifics on her travel?
People said the best relationships could make you a better person. Over the years, Ella had pushed him to dig deep. Jay was a better conservationist for the cause, a better evangelist for the environment, and now he was more focused, more logical, more studious. All because of Ella.
Growth wasn’t easy, though. The more she tested him, the more he had to remember what was important.Them.
Jay snorted. One more minute had dragged by and—was that Bishop’s truck?
Did Ella have that Neanderthal in his gas-guzzling behemoth pick her up from the airport? What, she was too good for the Metro or rideshare now?
He leaned closer, his ears aching to hear through the two vehicles’ steel frames. What was happening? They just sat there! Idling! Ella idled? In what world did she allow fumes to pour from a tailpipe?
Pounding tension crept down his neck, cramping his shoulders. The Bishop situation had gone on long enough. For crying out loud, Jay would call her father tomorrow and explain that he would be personally responsible for Ella’s security and safety.
No one would get to her! No stalker!
Of course, there would be nostalker.Hewas the man behind the confusion. Why did it feel as though they were two different people?
Jay rubbed his temples. This mass hysteria was his creation. There was not another person to actually protect her from.Think. Remember.
Titan could go to hell, and Bishop could disappear to the fringes of everything that Jay and Ella hated.
But still, that truck idled. Its red taillights mocked him. “She hates you!”
But shouting did no good when the truck didn’t move.
Helpless rage made Jay nauseated. The passenger door opened, and Ella slid into view. Ah, there she was. He could breathe better now. The streetlights cast an amber hue, but despite the orange glare, she radiated.
Jay wrung his hands on the steering wheel, happy to have her close again. “Happy to be home?”
Wait. The taillights went out. Had the truck shifted into Park? Because Bishop wasn’t pulling away. Jay’s stomach churned and—what the… Jay growled. Bishop got out.
Okay, it was just to remove her luggage. That was okay. He could handle that.
Maybe.
Maybe not. Because Bishop didn’t head back for the driver’s door.
Jealousy scored through his body as Bishop moved the bags to the sidewalk but didn’t let go. “Leave!”
Jay wondered if Bishop had a gun holstered on his side, and wild, wonderful fantasies danced. The different places that Jay could place a bullet. Different things he could say to Bishop before ending the problems that had cropped up with Ella recently.
In all of the years that Jay and Ella had teamed up, together they had outmaneuvered protesters, outsmarted poachers, and outplayed corporate assholes. This one man had become more dangerous than all of those other encounters.
Bishop put his arm around Ella.
“No!” Jay growled. “She’s mine!”
Neither turned around, and Ella didn’t flinch at Bishop’s touch. Far away, across the busy street, Jay pushed out of his car, choking on the stale air and desperation. Hours of waiting, for this? No. He stalked several cars closer, obsessing over Bishop’s hand on her back.
A sliver of space separated Bishop and Ella.Finally. Jay took a ragged lungful, gasping in relief as sweat trickled from his hairline. Exhausted, he leaned against a stranger’s car, watching from a perch on the street as they disappeared into her building.