Page 162 of Bishop

That’s been my sole responsibility for years and the recent failure still stings. But Abri needs me more.

“She’s a grown woman who wants to handle this on her own,” he mutters.

“No. She’s an isolated fucking victim who feels like she can’t trust or rely on anyone to help fight her fucking battles. How can you not see that?”

He sits back in his chair. “I see it well enough. But this is her daughter and her call to make. I won’t go against her wishes when the end result could be something I’m not willing to live with. And you shouldn’t be able to live with it either. If Lorenzo wants you out of here, then get out of here.” His eyes harden. “Unless you plan on claiming her.”

I don’t move. Don’t react. Don’t show how much the stipulation claws at my insides like a wild beast.

“Do you think someone who’s been used, abused, and mistreated by men should ever be claimed?” I sneer.

His brows raise as if I’ve just proven his point. “No. And that’s why you need to leave.”

“So you and your perfect army can watch over her?” I shove from the table. “You, with your insides resembling a slushy. Then your brothers who not only have stab wounds—that you inflicted, I might add—but perfectly constructed incompetence. And let’s not forget Lorenzo, who’s older than time and can barely walk faster than a fucking toddler due to his gunshot wound.”

“She says she can handle Geppet on her own. And after all the shit she’s been through, I’m inclined to believe her.”

“Even if she was capable,” I grate through clenched teeth, “she’s Lorenzo’s goddamn fucking niece. She deserves to have someone handle it for her.”

“And you’re that guy?”

“I don’t see anyone else around here with fully functioning limbs and more than two brain cells to rub together.”

He rolls his eyes. “You don’t think that because she’s Lorenzo’s niece that she should be given the chance to show her power? To be supported in her attempt to prove herself? To make her own choices regarding her offspring?”

“Save the guilt trip for someone with a conscience. We both know you’d never let Layla do anything even remotely close to what Abri has planned.”

He places his hands on the table, stabilizing himself as he pushes to his feet. “Layla is my fiancée. She’s mine to protect. Unless you plan on making that commitment to my sister I suggest you drop this shit before I lose my temper.”

Fiancée? “When the fuck did you get engaged?”

“On my deathbed, after my father tried to kill me.” He hobbles toward the kitchen, clearly not giving a shit that he’s just thrown monumental information in my face like it was yesterday’s news.

Jesus Christ. I sank into a black hole the night my life collided with Abri’s. Everything has been turned on its head.

I scrub a hand down my face. “You barely know her.”

“I know everything I need to know. And when your life flashes before your eyes and all you see is one woman, there’s no stopping the outcome.” He makes his way to the coffee machine. “I want a simpler life, Bishop. And I want it with Layla.”

A cesspool forms in my stomach. Is this betrayal I’m feeling? Or just irritation that he wants all that white-picket-fence shit and is stupid enough to think he can obtain it?

“Then I guess congratulations are in order.” I keep my petulance in check.

“Thanks.” He places a fresh mug under the coffee machine. “I’ll take that as high approval seeing as though you’re not the type to gush emotion.”

“I do approve.” Somewhat at least. “You deserve each other.”

His lips twitch. “Are you saying that because she’s destined to turn my hair grey?”

“Probably.” I walk for the windows, scanning the sea of black outside for a sign of my hellion.

“Do you want coffee?” he asks.

“Yeah.” It’s going to be a long night once I get my hands on his sister and start ripping her a new one. “Have you kept watch to make sure Abri hasn’t left the yard? It’s not safe to be walking the fields at night.”

He doesn’t answer. There’s only the spit and hiss of the coffee machine.

“Langston,” I bark, turning back to him. “Have you been watching her?”

---