“I didn’t have one,” Bishop confesses. “It’s how my father raised me, why I am who I am. Our blood, I mean, who we are, we can’t afford to have a patch. My dad doesn’t have one either. He married my mom for a cover, not for love—not that I’m talking about love.” He looks toward me to enhance his point then focuses back on the road. “But I’m just saying, I can’t have one. The fucking feelings I get when I think someone is fucking with you, though?” He breathes out a gush of air. “I’d kill them in an instant and not think twice about doing it. That may not be because I caught feelings for you or
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