Bishop was the easier target.

She’d win, someday.

****

A couple of days later, Robin’s arm still bandaged, she flicked through Preacher’s endless supply of LPs. She’d found a love of old music, and Preacher had an abundance.

Bishop sat in his father’s chair in the office.

He’d finally been allowed out of the clubhouse, and she’d stopped by to see if he wanted to hang out.

“What do you think it means with him washing his hands of me? You think it means I’m free to go?” Bishop asked.

He’d told her on the night his father gave him a firm talking to exactly what he’d said.

She stopped flicking through the LPs to look at her friend. “You know what it means.”

“Come on, seriously, he’d just let me handle everything myself?”

“He said to try him, right? To push? To see if he was kidding? Why not push?” she asked. She wasn’t going to encourage him to go and do anything stupid. “Or you can show him that you’re sorry and not do anything rash or stupid?”

“We were having fun,” he said. “I don’t see why he has to get into such a fucking state because of it.”

She ran fingers through her hair, trying to hide her annoyance. Getting to her feet, she grabbed a chair, pulling it over to him. “Every single time he has to call in a favor, it costs him, Bishop. You know Principal Arnold has an issue with you. He’ll do anything to hurt your dad.”

“I didn’t kidnap you.”

“We know that, but he can make life difficult. Come on, you’re not stupid. You know how people can be, especially when they want to cause a problem and rile a situation up. This isn’t about you, or me. Your dad has to pay one way or another each time you cause a problem. What if he needs those favors and he’s using them for something petty like stopping the principal having you arrested for kidnapping me?” She air quoted the last part.

“Are you defending him?”

“Oh, wow, sometimes there is no way of talking to you.” Getting to her feet, she shoved her hair off her shoulder and walked over to the stereo. She rarely touched any of the property inside Preacher’s house.

Even thinking his name in her head made her nervous.

She closed her eyes as the beat of a popular song filled the room and made her smile. She moved one shoulder to the beat as she felt a smile spread across her face.

Bishop groaned.

She spun to him and started to swing her hips from side to side. “Just let it go, Bishop. Come on, you know you want to. You want to dance with me. Give in, for me.” She held her arms out for him to take.

When they were younger, before Bishop wanted to drive her to having sex and causing headaches for his dad, they would spend hours dancing around whatever house they were in.