Page 139 of Bishop

I don’t doubt she’s done her absolute best given the circumstances. She’s fucking strong, determined, and hellbent. But her life would’ve been a lot easier if she’d had someone at her back. She never should’ve gone through all this alone.

Her eyes narrow. “You’d better not be feeling sorry for me, Butcher.”

“And why is that?”

She yanks up her zipper and reclasps the button. “Your life is just as pitiful as mine.”

Not true. I burned the monsters in my closet to ash a long time ago. I’m free, while she remains shackled to her demons, unable to ask for help to escape the darkness because she fears how the world will see her.

“Whatever you say.” I shrug.

She glowers. “You can be such an asshole.”

What the fuck? I just agreed with her. “I’m not fighting with you, belladonna.”

She pushes from the door, the broken latch allowing the wood to open a crack. “No, just judging.”

I clench my teeth, hating how I’m such an easy trigger around this woman. She flips my switch like a fucking toddler who’s just discovered how to work the lights. “Are you ready to go back out there?”

“Are you?” She re-ties the scarf around her neck. “You’re the one whose life is in danger.”

Bring it on. I’d prefer to stare death in the face than deal with her animosity again. “Can’t wait.”

“Me either.” She drags a hand over her hair, readjusts her shirt, then moves to yank open the door.

“Wait.” I grab her arm. “Langston is going to ask questions.”

She gives me a yeah-duh look.

“About your story,” I mutter. “About your daughter. And the gala.”

“And?”

“And I don’t hide shit from him.”

Whatever her reaction, she keeps it locked tight, hiding it under a mask of superiority. “Thanks for the forewarning.”

“You’re not going to chew me out? Yell at me? Demand I keep my mouth shut?”

“Would it change the outcome?”

It shouldn’t. But God knows if it would.

I’ve already crossed a million lines for this woman. It seems all I’d need is a little push to cross a million more. “No.”

She shrugs off my hold and straightens her shoulders. “Then what’s the point of bringing it up in the first place? Tell him what you need to, Bishop, because he definitely won’t hear it from me.”

26

BISHOP

She yanks open the door and pauses, her attention moving downward to where a grey Langston sits on the floor, scowling at me over her right shoulder.

“Are you two done?” he sneers. “Because I’d like a word.”

“Don’t start.” Abri bristles. “You gave up on being the protective brother long ago. You don’t get to reclaim the title now.”

“Like hell I don’t. What the fuck were you two doing in there?”

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