Page 164 of Bishop

He ducks sharply, avoiding impact but spilling his drink.

“Jesus. Fuck.” He slaps a hand to his abdomen. “Have you forgotten I was fucking shot?”

“You’ll be fucking stabbed soon. Where is she?”

Layla runs into the room, her eyes wide. “What’s going on?”

“You tell me.” I march for the hall, barely a breath away from barging her shoulder as I continue to the front door and peer through the screen.

All the blood drains from my face.

We’re one car short.

Hers is still here with its missing tire. But the rental is gone.

“You let her leave?” I swing around and storm back to the living room. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Layla’s gaze pleads with me as she stands beside Langston, her hands raised in placation. “Please calm down.”

I grin, stalking to the table. “This is calm, sugarplum. Wait until I lose my shit.”

Langston pushes to his feet. “Before you ask, I don’t know where she is.”

“Bullshit.” I slam my wrist against the wood, activating the switch blade that springs out toward my palm. “Tell me.” I grab his shirt and drag him to his feet.

He grimaces, one hand clamping over my wrist, the other grabbing at his abdomen.

“Bishop, stop,” Layla screams. “You’re hurting him.”

I raise the blade to his throat, seeing the betrayal in his eyes that I should’ve noticed earlier. “I’m going to do a lot more than hurt him.” I sneer in his face. “How could you let her go, you piece of shit?”

He keeps his chin steady, not tilting it away from the blade. “She gets to call the shots.”

My hand shakes with the need to slit his throat. To make him pay. To ensure he suffers like I currently am.

“Where. Did she. Go?” I enunciate the words slowly even though my pulse speeds faster with every passing second.

I don’t understand the fear pulsing through me. The rage. The betrayal. The hurt.

This shit is all new to me and I don’t fucking like it.

“I don’t know,” he repeats. “I deliberately told her not to disclose the information so you couldn’t get it out of me.”

I grin, my teeth clenched so tight with the feral smirk I can taste blood. “At least you had foresight with the deception.”

His jaw ticks. “She’s my sister.”

And I’d thought I was his brother.

His goddamn family.

“Please, Bishop.” Layla tugs at my arm. “You don’t understand. She had to go. It’s her daughter.”

I swing around to her, shoving the knife in her face. “Don’t talk to me about not—”

“Don’t point that at her,” Langston growls. “You can threaten me all you like, but she’s off-limits. You know that.”

Yeah. I know.

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