Page 38 of Bishop

Walking into the kitchen, I stop short when I see English sitting at the table eating what looks like a bowl of cereal.

"What the hell are you doing up?"

"Sometimes the heart just wants a bowl of Froot Loops." He shrugs and goes back to digging into his bowl.

I scoff and shake my head but don't comment anymore on it. What can I say? I'm about to go scrounging in the fridge for something to eat too.

I dig through the fridge, but the tension in the room feels off. I wonder if he's upset with me too for wanting to go against Wyatt's order and get the Faceless. Cody and Preston have already made their opinions known. Neither of them are too happy with me. English hasn't said very much on the subject.

"What are you doing up so late anyway?" English turns his head to look at me.

There's no need to lie. I don't care who knows. "I was getting some information on where I'd be able to meet up with the Faceless higher-ups."

English's mouth presses together, and he nods his head once before turning back to his food.

"Don't tell me you think what I'm doing is wrong too?" I pull out some bread and peanut butter and get to work making myself a sandwich.

"Wyatt has already ruled on the subject. I'm worried you may be making more problems for yourself than necessary."

"I welcome the problems. It's the only way to get to a clear solution. They have to go, English. No one is going to make me feel any different about the situation." I'm getting a little tired of having to defend myself on the subject. If any of them knew what I'd gone through, I don't think they'd have the same reactions to what I'm saying.

"I said the order was given, I never said I agreed with it." English turns in his chair to look at me.

This is a first. As far as I knew, no one in the club wanted to continue the fight against the Faceless for their part in what had happened. They considered the matter closed and dead now that Rupert Giles was dead.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I stop making my sandwich so I can pay attention to what English is saying.

"I mean if it were me and something like what happened to Gabrielle were to happen to any of my family, or Angel for fuck's sake, I don't think I'd be able to just sit back and let them walk either. I'd be on a rampage the same as you. Sometimes retribution is not only hoped for but it's warranted."

My eyebrows jump up to my forehead. This is the first I've heard him talk about Angel, Million's ex. After Million died, the Boys of Djinn took her and her son in until they were able to get back on their feet. They're staying in one of the empty cabins on the property.

"Angel? You really want to go down that road?" I ask English. I smirk at him and sit in the chair next to him.

"No, it's nothing like that. I mean... I wish but no."

"Why no? What's wrong with her? She seems like a good woman from what I can tell." I shrug and lean back in the chair.

"Are you kidding me? That's Million's ol' lady. I can't... it's wrong." English pushes his bowl away and crosses his arms over his chest, his head hanging low and his mouth twisted in a deep scowl.

"Wrong? How is it wrong? Both of you are hurting right now. You lost a brother, and she lost the man she thought she was getting back together with. You can share in each other's pain, be there for each other."

"It's more complicated than that."

"Why, because you like her? You want to touch on her and make her feel good?"

"Million would rip my fucking balls off for even letting those thoughts pop into my head." English sighs and looks up at me.

"He would, but, brother, Million is dead. Don't you think he'd want Angel to be happy? His son to have someone to look up to? If there was anyone in the world Million would trust to care and love his ex, don't you think it'd be one of his brothers? The people he trusted the most in his life?"

English blinked a few times as if he'd never thought about what I was saying to him.

"I don't know. I don't even know if she feels the same way I do. It could all just be from grief." He shrugs and looks away again.

"It could be, but you won't know until you ask."

I watch the expression on English's face go from disbelief to disgust to hopeful in the blink of an eye. The only person holding him back from being happy with Angel is himself. If she's feeling him, there's no reason for him to be guilty about wanting to pursue something with her. As long as he doesn't hurt her, I think it could be good for both of them.

"Thanks for the chat, man." English nods once before getting up from the table and dumping the remainder of his food in the trash and making his way out of the kitchen. I sit back in the seat, looking at the unmade sandwich in front of me. I've always been good at that: helping people sort out the shit in their heads. It's a gift, some would say. Problem is, I could never do the same for myself.