“Really?” I said with an arched brow.
“Yes. He’s always been like that. He’s more like an animal than a human. Once he’s focussed on something he wants, he will go after it at all costs. It’ll scare you, frustrate you and anger you but you’ll give in eventually because you know that nobody will protect you like he will.”
“Don’t I get a say in what I want?” I asked before taking another swig of the rum. It settled in my stomach with a warmth that made me feel better.
Bishop cocked his head to one side. “Do you want a say in it? Or do you like that he takes charge? That he leaves you no room for argument?”
The honest answer was that yes, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed Byron even though I knew he would never love me back or feel anything for me other than obsession. But would that be enough?
“What do you think of Byron?” I asked.
Bishop’s gaze drifted for a moment, and a warm smile graced his mouth. “He’s intense… charming when he wants to be and pouty when he doesn’t get his own way.”
That was definitely an accurate portrayal of him and there was a genuine warmth when he spoke about his twin. It was strange seeing Bishop’s face so full of emotion, when Byron’s rarely held anything.
“He’s also demanding, impulsive, reckless and enjoys torturing people,” Bishop added matter-of-factly. “Does that freak you out?”
It should, but it didn’t. “Not really. I know it should terrify me, and that any normal person would run away screaming but there’s something in him that speaks to a part of me.”
“The rabbit,” he chuckled.
“The what?”
“He sees you as prey. Logically, you’re not weaker than him, but he senses a vulnerability in you that calls to the predator in him. You fascinate him because you let him play with you.”
“Huh?” I was so confused.
He pointed at the marks on my neck and grinned. “That looks like my twin’s handiwork.”
There was a challenge in his eyes and something mischievous about the way his mouth curled. Almost like he was daring me to ask him exactly how he knew it was Byron’s handiwork.
I was tempted to ask, but I think I already knew the answer.
Bishop leant forward. “Look, whether you’ve accepted it or not, Byron isn’t going to let you go. And I’m almost certain that he will kill anyone who even winks at you when you’re standing in line at the supermarket.”
“That’s oddly specific,” I said.
Bishop chuckled again. “That’s Byron.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.” I took another drink of the rum and felt the alcohol buzzing pleasantly in my system. “Does it bother you that he killed your father?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Wow. Straight for the jugular, Wilder.”
“Sorry. You don’t have to answer that. I don’t know why I asked.”
“Yes, you do, and no apology needed. I can see that he fascinates you as much as you do him.” He paused for a moment, his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. “It did at first and some partof me will always regret that he had to die but he was trying to keep us apart. That’s torture for us. I hope you’re ready for me to be in your life as much as he is.”
I’d been avoiding thinking about that, but I was curious about how their dynamic worked. “You’re completely co-dependent on each other, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he replied without even blinking. “Doesthatfreak you out?”
“I don’t think so. I’m curious about it though. You two seem connected on a level that’s deeper than human.”
Bishop chuckled softly. “That’s one way of putting it. We always know where the other is and whilst we can’t speak telepathically, despite what people think, we do have a sense of what the other is thinking with a scary accuracy.”
“Must be nice,” I mumbled. “To have that kind of connection.”
Bishop leaned forward and wrapped his hand around mine. “Just give it time. Byron is determined to have you in his life and the connection will grow. If I know Byron, he’s already following his instincts where you're concerned.”