Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 133180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Bishop was still practically standing on top of Sly, so much so that the shorter man had to tilt his head back to stare into his eyes. Being this close to his old friend again, smelling his sweat and feeling his compact muscles pressed close to his own had Bishop’s lower body reacting, not to mention he’d been out of prison six months and still hadn’t gotten any. Personal vows were a fucking bitch.
“It’s good to see you in the old hood again.” Sly’s voice was still as smooth and silky as he remembered.
Bishop held his breath when Sly’s arms came up and linked behind his head. He quickly scanned the narrow alleyway, even though they were completely out of sight of anyone since Sly had yanked him behind a stinking dumpster. And just like that, reality slammed into Bishop, the shame of Sly possibly being caught with him. Bishop’s head cleared of the lust and he was able to gather his bearings and put some space between them.
“I’m not back,” was Bishop’s only reply.
Sly narrowed his piercing gray eyes. He no longer had the shaggy jet-black hair that used to cover his forehead, opting for the more mature look of a simple buzz cut since he was a leader now. “I figured as much. You weren’t really throwing any blows last night, like I know you can.” Sly licked his lips when he scanned Bishop’s muscles. “I know you were just trying to get Trent out of there.”
“So we’re good,” Bishop muttered.
“I didn’t say that.”
Sly’s response was quick and Bishop knew what it meant. How was he going to fix this? “What do you want?”
“You already know the answer to that.”
“Not gonna happen,” he whispered, inching closer.
“Come on, B. Why was I never good enough, huh?” Sly scanned the alley again. They were still alone.
Bishop kept his gaze zeroed in on his used-to-be close friend. “That’s why, right there,” he pointed out. “You’re too worried about someone else’s eyes on us. I can’t do that shit anymore. I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about me now. No one sure gave a fuck when I got tossed.”
“I did.” Sly frowned. “If you’d been with me that shit would’ve never went down like that. You know I cared.”
Bishop recalled the one other letter he’d got in prison that hadn’t come from Trent.
“We wouldn’t work. You know that. We’ve tried before.”
“Did we really?” Sly ran the tip of his finger inside Bishop’s palm. Even that small contact sent awareness coursing through his neglected groin. “Or did you give up because it was too hard? You always liked things done the easy way.”
“That’s not true.” Bishop kept his voice low.
“Oh, it is.” Sly grinned. “That’s why you were shacked up with that flaming ass, rat-snitching bastard.”
Bishop shook his head. Does he really wanna go there, now?
“I never would’ve done what he did to you.”
“What he did was stand up for me.”
“By telling the entire damn courtroom that you were too stupid to pull off a store robbery. I know you told him all that stuff in confidence and he used it anyway.” Sly looked pissed.
Bishop sighed, trying not to replay his ex-boyfriend’s character testimony over again in his head. He’d tortured himself with it for five long years. But his mind refused to listen.
“Please, you have to believe me. Bishop Stockley could never have been a mastermind of anything. He didn’t do it!” Royce cried dramatically on the stand.
He’d already told Bishop he couldn’t bear it if he went to prison. Meaning he wouldn’t wait for him. They’d had a future planned. Albeit a gang-involved future that was doomed to fail, but Royce loved their clout on the streets.
“I’m telling you, you have your finger pointed at the wrong man.”
Bishop’s eyes widened as he sat beside his court-appointed lawyer. He didn’t want Royce to say it. Not here. Not in a packed courtroom.
“Yes, Bishop is the oldest but he’s also the most uneducated. Bishop couldn’t have done it. He’s completely illiterate. He can’t even read!” Royce screeched at the prosecutor. “He has the IQ of an ant, he was most likely tricked.”
Bishop slowly opened his eyes. The gasps from his so-called crew and close friends were so loud the judge had to bang his gavel multiple times to quiet everyone down. Whispers were loud enough to reach his ears.
“Wait! B’s a dumbass? We’ve been following someone that can’t even fucking read. What the fuck? Bishop can’t be stupid, he’s the best leader we’ve had.”
It was only when the court recessed for lunch and he was able to stand and look behind him, he noticed that everyone was gone. His crew, his so-called family. All gone.
And because of his boyfriend’s shockingly betraying testimony, and his results from the state standardized literacy test, the charge of mastermind was dropped to accomplice. Otherwise, Bishop would still have been in prison for strong-armed robbery.