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The club had fallen into a deafening silence. She watched as the bullets fell from Bishop's hand. If they made a sound as they hit the bloodstained carpet, Maddy couldn't hear it. The stripper, lying flat on the stage, gave a shuddering cry that she couldn't seem to hear either. Her eyes couldn't leave where Alamo lay on the floor, dead, the upper half of his torso had fallen through the doorway. Her brown eyes stared at his fancy cowboy boots, dazed and unfocused.
Bishop's hand moved, the prayer beads he always clung to clinking together as he offered his palm to her. Maddy heard that.
"Can I give you a ride home?" He looked at her with the same calm expression he always wore. Like he hadn't backstabbed the man he had worked for for God knew how long. He looked at her as if the hair-raising tension that was the last ten minutes had been the most boring ten minutes of his life. She found the corners of her lips twitching in spite of herself.
She had not the ability to speak in that moment, but meeting his dark eyes, she gave him a small nod.
When the car door finally slammed shut beside her, Maddy finally let herself breathe. First, it started with quick, shallow breaths. Then deep ones. Then she could hardly breathe at all. Her nails dug into her seat as she shut her eyes tightly. She had only felt fear this intense once in her life. When Nate had crept into her room and held a gun to her head before turning it on himself. It was funny almost. When Alamo had grabbed her, and she faced the barrel of the soldier's gun, she had felt nothing. It was like, every nerve had shaken so fiercely with adrenaline and madness that it had reduced her to a state of calm she could not explain. A state where there was no room for tears, begging, or screaming.
And now, with the cloak of safety the car provided washing over her, it was like a dam within her had broken, and all the fear, rage, and sadness had tumbled out at once.
The driver's side door opened, and Bishop slipped in wordlessly, Snowflake in her carrier on his lap. She swallowed thickly. Her palms were sweaty, and her blood was still cold.
"Are you okay?" He spoke without looking at her.
The tone-deaf bizarreness of the question coaxed a laugh from Maddy's throat. It was humorless and tired. Still, she cast a glance at him with a shaky smile.
"Fuck no." Her brows creased as her throat grew tight. Sniffing, she covered her face with the back of her hand.
Rue had died. Learning that had been a surreal experience. Learning that she had died from an overdose had been even worse. Despite the wildly dangerous life that her friend had lived, Maddy never really thought of Rue passing. Not during high school, when she had been in the deepest, darkest place in her life, and certainly not three months ago, when she had been the happiest Maddy had ever seen her.
And Alamo had killed her.
Killed her with a weapon no one would ever question.
A hand reached over to Maddy's face, Bishop's thumb wiping a stray tear she didn't even realize she had shed.
She snapped out of her thoughts and met his gaze. He wore the same expression he always did, but something was turning behind those dark eyes of his. Like he was contemplating something. A moment passed, then another, before he seemed to settle on an answer in his mind. Reaching into the carrier, he pulled out his dog. She yipped a little bit before being placed gently on Maddy's lap. Wordlessly, he moved the carrier to the back seat.
Maddy blinked a few spare tears away as she made a noise between a cry and a laugh. Snowflake pawed at her chest as she licked her face. She ran her fingers through the fur of the little white dog, letting her lick her face and jump around on her lap. She cradled the dog in her arms as Bishop started the car. The engine roared to life.
They drove for a few minutes in complete silence before Maddy spoke up again.
"Why did you do it?" She asked. Snowflake had calmed down now; she was comfortably curled on Maddy's lap, snoozing without a care in the world. He looked different under the dark glow of the dashboard and passing streetlights. He looked less like an emotionless gangster and more like a tired blue-collar worker. Whether tired from the evening or his life, she could never be sure. "Was it for Rue?"
"No." He said simply. Then a long pause fell over them. For a moment, she thought he had finished. His simple 'no' would be the only answer she would ever receive. But to her surprise, he continued on. "I did it because he wasn't trustworthy."
"But you worked with him for years?"
"Mhm." His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. "And I watched him bury whoever he felt like. Even those who tried to do their best by him. He was unstable and getting worse. Rue-"
He trailed off.
"Rue what?"
"Rue may not have been good. Rue may have even been a rat." The blinker turned on as he turned left. "But she did not deserve to die. Especially not like that." Another pause, shorter this time. "Killing her with fentanyl was underhanded. It's one thing to be underhanded with our enemies, but one of our own deserved a better send-off."
"You would've killed Rue?"
"No. No point." He glanced at Maddy, and his tightened jaw loosened a bit. "The DEA sting had already come and gone, and we got away not only clean, but on top. Killing her would've roused DEA suspicion. If it were my choice, I would've let her walk."
Maddy lay her head on the headrest, turning to look out the window. The world was a dark, blurry mess this time of night. "It's funny." She started. She could feel Bishop's eyes watching her now, even as he drove. "When I heard the news that Rue died, and it was an OD, I was devastated. So many people kept saying 'it was bound to happen,' but I never felt like that was true." Her lip quivered as she swallowed another cry. "She was clean. That's what she told me, and I believed it. Hearing that Alamo had a hand in her death-"
She shook her head as she grit her teeth. That fat, old, creepy fuck. All those times his eyes and hands had wandered her body like he owned it. The same hands that orchestrated the death of one of her closest friends.
"It's weird. Like in some fucked up way, it brought me relief, you know? And then it was like a whole new grief came in to replace it. Her addiction didn't kill her, and an outside force did. She was doing fine, life was looking up, and somebody took that all away from her." Her hands balled into fists. "And I just can't help but feel that it's my fault. If I had just kept my fucking mouth shut about the DEA, then maybe she'd still-"
A hand rested gently on her thigh, just above her knee. Her head snapped to Bishop. His eyes had returned to the road, but his expression had softened, or softened as much as his inexpressive face would allow.
"He already knew."
"I-what?"
"He already knew Rue was working for the DEA. He pieced it together pretty well himself." Bishop glanced at her. "It wasn't your fault. Rue's fate was sealed the moment she accepted the DEA's deal."
Maddy wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Her other hand rested over Bishop's as she returned her gaze to the window.
The rest of the car ride was long and silent. Bishop's hand never moved from Maddy's thigh, and her hand never moved from his. His thumb rubbed soothing small circles over her knee, and her own thumb gently ran over the calluses on his knuckles.
She was grateful for Bishop. In a sea of madness, he was like an anchor that kept her from being swept out to sea.
"What happens to the club now?" She asked, finally turning to him just as they pulled in front of her house.
Putting the car in park, he met her eyes. "I was hoping you would help me figure that out."
She grinned despite herself. "You still want me working at the club?"
"Can't imagine many being able to manage the mess better than you." His eyes searched hers. "Just let me get rid of all the bodies first."
Maddy let the offer hang in the air for a moment. Quietly, she lifted up Snowflake and placed her in the backseat, the puppy merely whining in response. Sitting up on her knees, she leaned toward Bishop, head tilted, and pressed a delicate kiss on his cheek.
The look on his face was one she'd never forget. He seemed taken aback. His eyes slightly widened, mouth just barely agape. The sight of it made her smile bigger.
"Thanks."
"For what?" Bishop straightened his back as he tried to collect himself.
"For giving me the ride." With that, she opened the car door and stepped out into the cool air. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but she knew she could face it. Leaning down, she gave Bishop one last smile. "Get the club cleaned up, and we'll see how I feel. Goodnight, Bishop."
And with that, she closed the door.