Bishop's Endgame

  Bishop’s Endgame

  Endgame trilogy

  Katie Reus

  Bishop’s Endgame

  Copyright © 2020 Katie Reus

  Cover art by Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs

  Editor: Julia Ganis

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

  Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book. This purchase allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. You do not have the right to resell, distribute, print or transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload this book to a file sharing program. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  ISBN: 9781635561302

  Table of Contents

  BISHOP’S ENDGAME

  Copyright

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Thank You for Reading!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Complete Booklist

  Read the final book in the Endgame trilogy where blood is thick, but passion is thicker…

  He kidnapped a princess to exact revenge.

  Set up for a crime he didn’t commit, Ellis Bishop takes the law into his own hands to exact justice and clear his name. Unfortunately, that means he has to kidnap a crime boss’s stepdaughter—a perfect mafia princess, set to become queen of a dirty empire. What he didn’t count on was falling for his mortal enemy’s daughter.

  He wasn’t supposed to fall for her.

  Arianna hates the man who kidnapped her, but soon she realizes that things aren’t what they seem. Ellis was framed by her stepfather and is trying to clear his name. If she helps him, it means betraying her family. But how can she turn her back on him when he’s innocent…when her family turns out to be monsters she never really knew at all?

  Dedication

  For every single person taking it one day at a time.

  Prologue

  Ellis Bishop gunned his engine, taking a sharp left turn. His arm muscles flexed, stretching the sleeves of his leather jacket as the motorcycle shot forward.

  Faster, faster, faster, he silently urged it.

  He’d found out from a source that his partner’s cover had been blown and he couldn’t get hold of Carter. He couldn’t get hold of their boss either.

  His heart thumped erratically as he took another turn, his palms damp. Only two minutes away. Two long minutes from the auto body shop where Carter was supposed to be meeting Vitaly Rodin. But an informant had alerted him that Carter’s cover was blown.

  And Carter would be dead upon arrival.

  Not if Ellis had anything to do about it. But Carter still wasn’t answering his goddamn phone.

  Ellis had Bluetooth wired to his helmet so he tried again. Voicemail. Again.

  Fuckfuckfuckshitfuck.

  He slowed at the next red light, quickly going over his options. He couldn’t park at the auto body shop—which was nothing more than a front for moving drugs and weapons. As he passed a strip of stores two blocks away from the place, he steered into the parking lot and headed around back. He parked his bike behind the dumpster of a clothing boutique that would be closed now, then jumped off, leaving his helmet behind.

  He checked his phone again. No texts and no missed calls. He sent off another benign text with their code phrase letting Carter know to get out of there immediately. He’d already sent one telling him that he was starving and wanted to get pizza tonight, but he had to send another. Carter would know what it meant, if he wasn’t already— No. He refused to even think it.

  Ellis didn’t know how Carter’s cover had been blown, not when his cover ID was solidly built. The how and why of it was important, but now, the only thing that mattered was saving his best friend’s life.

  As he neared the back of the chain store that sold secondhand clothing he slowed, using one of the dumpsters as cover while he got a visual of the back of the auto body shop.

  The security camera was in place above the door, angled to the right, as usual. No one was guarding the door, which wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. After another scan of the back alley, he pulled a black ski mask from his pocket and tugged it on. With only a little scruff, his facial hair wasn’t visible through it, and his black T-shirt, leather jacket, jeans and boots were all generic. If anyone saw him, they wouldn’t be able to give a good description other than he was tall, probably white and had on biker-type clothing.

  Everything was quiet as he approached the back of the shop. Too quiet. It was after six and dark out but there should be guards inside if their intel was anything to go on.

  Withdrawing his weapon, he stayed on the opposite side of the camera as he inched closer to the back door. Jumping up, he bashed the base of the small camera with his pistol. It fell off, clattering to the concrete. He stomped on it even as he picked the lock on the door, using precious seconds to get inside. As he eased open the door, he already had his weapon up.

  No one was waiting inside to jump him, but he heard muted voices coming from somewhere farther down the hallway. Faint light streamed out from the open office door ahead.

  Ice slid up his spine as he slowly inched down the short hallway. The small office on the left was empty so he kept moving toward the voices coming from the four-bay garage ahead on the right.

  Heart hammering in his throat, he inched down the short hallway and used his cell phone to carefully peer around the corner into the garage. From the screen he could see Carter talking to Vitaly and three others. He pressed record, wanting to get the images of all the men on video.

  Ice encased his chest, wrapping around him in an unforgiving hold. He was too late to warn Carter that Vitaly knew he was a DEA agent, but he was sure as hell going to back him up.

  Before he could move, Vitaly silently, smoothly lifted a pistol and shot Carter in the chest at point-blank range. He did it so casually with absolutely no warning.

  Pop. Pop. Pop.

  He shot him in the head next.

  Ellis reared back, watching in horror as Carter’s body fell into one of the open bays. Freezing for only a moment when four other men stepped into the garage from another entryway, he knew he was outgunned. He was trained, but going up against eight men when he had one pistol and a couple extra mags? That was suicide.

  That
ice continued to spread, freezing his blood as he backed up, tucking the phone—the evidence—into his pocket. Moving quickly, he backtracked the way he’d come even as he locked down all his emotions. It was almost impossible, however, as grief immediately swelled up inside him, threatening to choke him.

  Once he was outside, he texted his boss again, telling him quickly what had happened and to send backup to this location ASAP. Ellis and Carter had been undercover and there were only a few people he could contact at this point. Kyle Bird, his boss and mentor, was one of them.

  Though he hated to leave Carter, he knew their DEA team would retrieve his body and he would receive a proper burial. It wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough, not with Carter dead… He bit down hard. Swallowed back the thought. He’d mourn his friend later.

  As he hurried back to the dumpster, the roar of an engine rumbling through the air had him diving for cover.

  Three muscle cars rolled around the corner and soon enough someone was going to see the destroyed security camera—if they didn’t know about it already.

  Instead of going back the way he’d come, he jumped the chain-link fence directly behind the dumpster and into a cluster of underbrush surrounding a row of palm trees common all over Orlando.

  Rage building inside him, he’d started to call his boss again when his phone silently lit up. He could hear male voices coming from near the building as a car door slammed. Heart rate kicking up, he hurried into the adjacent alleyway, now sprinting in the opposite direction. There was a shout of alarm behind him, but a glance over his shoulder told him no one was giving chase. They must have just seen the camera.

  Answering, he held his phone to his ear. “Carter’s dead. Vitaly pulled the trigger.”

  Bird swore. “You’re sure?”

  “I saw it with my own eyes. I got a short recording on my cell phone.”

  Another curse. “Where are you?”

  “On the move. We need to send in a team now before he goes to ground.” He rattled off the address, though Bird would know it from their recon anyway. They’d been watching Vitaly and his crew for a couple months. He’d been making subtle waves in Orlando and landed on their radar because it appeared as if he was positioning himself to take over for his boss, Leonid Berezin.

  They couldn’t be sure though. Vitaly’s movements were so precise and he was careful. Until tonight.

  “I’ll take care of it. Get to safety. Let me know where you are and I’ll send someone to extract you.”

  “I will.” As he raced away and circled back to his motorcycle, he emailed the short video to himself just in case something happened to him from the time he left here until he met up with Bird. He had to have a backup somewhere. When he was done, he tucked his phone back into his pocket and made his way to his bike. No one had messed with it and it was time to get out of here.

  Over five hours later, he sat in a dimly lit corner booth of an all-night diner where he had a full visual of the entrance and a quick escape out the exit door. Bird was already half an hour late and had gone radio silent.

  Tapping his finger against the table, Ellis didn’t bother to wave the waitress away when she refilled his coffee. He’d only drunk it in an effort to warm himself up, but it hadn’t worked. The little liquid he’d managed to swallow sat heavy in his gut, threatening to come up as he thought of Carter. An Army vet and loving husband—who considered himself a “grill master” yet burned every steak he cooked. The man couldn’t grill for shit, but he was quick with a joke, and when Ellis had gone to him months ago and confided in him that he was getting burned out, he’d simply listened. He hadn’t given bullshit advice or tried to fix anything. He’d just listened. Because that was who Carter was—or had been. He closed his eyes tight and dragged in a breath.

  It took everything in him not to call Carter’s wife—widow—and tell her what had happened. But he couldn’t break protocol. Couldn’t do anything that might put her in danger. By now Bird should have talked to her in person. Which might be why the man was late. And that was the only reason Ellis was keeping his temper in check. Not that he was angry at Bird anyway.

  He was pissed at himself for being too late, for not being there in time to save Carter. If he’d just left a couple minutes earlier, drove faster, ran faster… If he hadn’t bothered with the cell phone and just swept in with his weapon, maybe Carter would still be here.

  What if, what if, what if. He leaned his head back against the wall, sighing. He was going to be doing the what if thing for a long time to come.

  None of this should have happened, regardless. But he would deal with that and get justice for Carter.

  Ellis straightened when a four-door nondescript dark green sedan pulled into the parking lot. Tensing, he almost reached for the weapon he’d tucked away in his shoulder holster, but stilled when Bird stepped out of the driver’s side.

  Bird looked harried, his shirt rumpled, his jacket open and a plain navy blue ball cap on his head. He pressed the key fob and strode purposefully through the front door. The little bell overhead jingled and Bird ignored the waitress as he scanned the mostly empty booths.

  Relief bled into his gaze as he spotted Ellis.

  “Well?” Ellis asked as Bird sat across from him. “You talked to Jessica yet?”

  “Not yet. We’re still wrapping up everything. Everything was as you said. You got it on video? You’re sure?”

  Of course he was sure. He dug out his cell phone and pulled up the video before sliding it across to Bird. “See for yourself.” Ellis couldn’t stomach watching it again.

  Bird watched it, his eyes widening slightly. “That’s a crystal clear shot of him.”

  Yeah, no shit. This would be enough to bring down Vitaly. He just hoped the Bureau didn’t use this as leverage to bring down the bigger fish and cut Vitaly a deal. Because Carter was going to get justice. He deserved it. His wife deserved it. And Ellis wouldn’t rest until his best friend’s killer was locked behind bars.

  Bird turned off the phone, then slid it into his windbreaker pocket.

  Ellis frowned at him.

  “You send this to anyone else?”

  A little tingle started at the back of his neck. “No,” he said quietly. He wasn’t going to tell his boss that he’d sent a copy to himself.

  “Good. Now stand up and put your hands up.” Bird’s expression was hard, his eyes a stone-cold gunmetal gray as he withdrew his weapon and trained it on Ellis.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You’re under arrest for the murder of Carter Watson.”

  Son of a bitch. They were setting him up.

  He wanted to deny it, but the proof was right in front of him. Instead of doing as ordered, Ellis tossed his black coffee in Bird’s face and bolted out of the booth. Bird cried out even as Ellis sprinted down the short hallway that led to the two bathrooms.

  Bypassing them, he kicked open the exit door as a bullet whizzed past him. He slammed the metal door behind him and grabbed a discarded broom and shoved it up under the handle.

  That son of a bitch had set him up—had set Carter up and gotten him killed. Bird had to be working with Vitaly.

  He would pay.

  Ellis raced along the side of the building and jumped onto his bike, not looking back as he sped off. He’d have to ditch it soon because Bird would definitely track it.

  He had to get to a computer, download that video and make sure it got into the right hands. Because Bird and Vitaly wouldn’t get away with this.

  Anyone involved with this shitstorm was going to pay. If they’d framed him for Carter’s murder, they’d had hours to set him up, to set a stage. And he’d just sat back and let Bird take over because he’d trusted him. Damn it.

  No matter what, he was going to clear his name and get justice. He just had to figure out who to trust first.

  Chapter 1

  Present day

  Arianna Stavish pushed open the side door of the Methodist church, stepping out i
nto the crisp salt-tinged air with her friend and sponsor Sheila beside her. “Want to grab some coffee? The brew tonight was particularly awful.” Which was pretty much par for the course in the AA meetings at this Miami location. For some reason the coffee was always crap, but the food tended to be amazing. Probably because women from the church donated baked goods and it was almost always homemade.

  Laughing lightly, Sheila shook her head, her dark curls bouncing wildly. “No. I’m actually meeting my daughter.”

  Arianna’s eyes widened. “That’s a good thing, right?” Sheila was a recovering alcoholic like her, had been in the program for a decade, and she’d left a lot of grief and pain in her wake. She was also the first to admit that she hadn’t been the best mother. Not when she was drunk anyway. And before she’d gotten sober, she’d been drunk a lot.

  “Yeah, it’s good, but I’m nervous. I’ve called my own sponsor three times this week,” she said dryly.

  Arianna was surprised even though she knew that Sheila had a sponsor. Of course she did. It was just that she went to Sheila for advice about so many things, and the other woman was so steady and sometimes seemed all-knowing. Which was ridiculous. Just like Arianna, she would always be a recovering alcoholic. The fun disease that never went away. No matter how much she wished it would.