Checkmate With Bishop: A Hellions MC Novel by J. A. Hornbuckle

Author:J. A. Hornbuckle [Hornbuckle, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J.A. Hornbuckle
Published: 2015-03-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Bishop walked, shortening his strides as he and J.R. circumnavigated their way towards the grill area of the yard to where the brothers and the Hellions-Missoula council stood. The kid’s arm bumped his a couple of times before Bishop turned to figure out the reason. But all he could see was the top of J.R.’s head, hair flopping , which was pointed down to the skinny fingers that caressed the ‘property of’ patch. The sight of that, of just the reverence that the kid was stroking the mark of his heritage, almost brought Bishop to his knees.

“I’m getting you dig your cut,” Bishop murmured, his heart bumping hard while his voice was bouncing off the last of the cars as they entered the area where the bikes were parked in neat rows.

“Totally,” J.R. replied, his voice sounding more of air than of speech.

There were smiles and there were smiles, but the one that Bishop found on his face was one of the biggest, the proudest, he knew he’d ever wore. “Glad, then. But we need to work a few things out before we meet up with the brothers. Need to give you the 4-1-1 on what might happen tonight.”

J.R.’s head popped up as Bishop’s feet slowed. “My mom told me some of it. About the booze, weed and sex.”

Bishop felt his eyebrows lift in surprise. “She did?”

“Yeah. But I told her that it probably wasn’t anything that I hadn’t already seen at some of the parties I’ve been to.” Taking in J.R.’s chin-jut and the kid’s oh-so-serious eyes, Bishop found himself swallowing the chuckle that wanted out. “I think I can handle it, si…I mean, Bishop.”

“I’m sure you can,” Bishop offered, but the cough that followed his words was the only evidence of the humor that he allowed to escape. “I want to talk about the language first. You’re gonna hear a lot, and I mean a motherfucking lot of swearing tonight. I don’t give a fucking rat’s ass about your goddamn language when you’re with me, but I better not ever fucking hear you use those kind of words around your mother, dig?”

“She swears,” J.R. countered with narrowed eyes, but Bishop could see the wheels in the kid’s, his kid’s, head turning. “How come she can and I can’t?”

It was at that moment, Bishop could finally understand the whole cop-out answer parents used when they didn’t want to give specifics. The complete ‘because I said so’ kind of response that meant fucking shit to kids but got the guardian’s ass off the hook in having to explain. He and J.R. didn’t have that kind of relationship yet, one that had some built-up trust beneath its belt, so he stopped in order to think J.R.’s question through before responding. “A lot of people judge a man by the words he uses. And to more than a few folks, swearing is a sign of a lack of intelligence, dig?”

“I’ve heard that before,” J.R. cut in with a nod, but confusion still clouded the kid’s face.

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