Those are the words ringing in Bishop’s ears as he shoulders his way past the patrolmen standing in front of him. He needs to get to Teagan, needs to look her in the eye and see for himself if there’s truth to the words the fucking pig just spat out. The Chaplain makes it a handful of steps before there’s hands on him, restraining him. His expression is calm, the only give away that his mind and heart have turned into a vortex of emotions is the way he’s got his jaw clenched, a muscle twitching as his gaze never leaves Teagan’s. The Mayor’s flying monkeys are still holding onto him, still impeding his ability to get to her, to look her in the eye, search her face -- one he has memorized practically -- for any sign that what’s been said is true.
The whole scene is in chaos, Rodeo’s yelling and Teagan’s lunging towards Sonny and all Bishop can do is watch, heavy hands around his arms to hold him in place -- not that they’re needed - he’s frozen by the fact that right now his world has been dropped on it’s fucking head. The urge to growl at the patrolmen to get their fucking hands off her flairs up bright and strong as they tear her away from Sonny, but the words aren’t spoken aloud. If she’s got a deal with them they ain’t going to hurt her. His stomach lurches at the truth behind that thought. He doesn’t care any longer if they’re locked up for life, or worse, if they die, because all this time he could have been sleeping with a traitor and never known. Could he have been that stupid to be blinded by a woman so severely that he’d miss the signs?
No. Bishop knows Teagan. Knows her heart inside and out and their ain’t anyone else in that camp who’s got as much love for the patch, for the camp, hell, for the men standing in this line up, as she does. Still, letting his heart lead him brought only trouble once before. This time he’s going to be smart about this. He has to be smart about this.
Flashes of memories. Teagan sitting him down, fucking handed him the evidence she had on Sonny and asking him to help her prove he was the rat. Was that all an act? Bishop doesn’t want to believe he’s been suckered by a woman, but the patrolmen still aren’t cuffing her, and the man she swore to him was the rat is sitting in the line up with them, metal around his wrists just like the rest of them. His heart’s being torn in two, his mind warring as one side tries to convince the other that Teagan ain’t the rat. But, he has to look at the facts, has to be logical, even with this, especially with this.
Sarge makes some comment to the patrolmen that Bishop barely hears, his gaze is still fixed on Teagan, boring into her as if with just one look the truth will become clear -- that suddenly she'll be the woman he loves again, and not their rat. It doesn’t. After what felt like a century, but in truth was probably only mere seconds Bishop finally tears his gaze away from her, his expression one of hurt and betrayal as he drops his head and looks down at the asphalt underneath his feet. There’s nothing more to do now than wait for the patrolmen to finish what they began.