Page 165 of Bishop

And even with the rules of engagement firmly tattooed into my frontal lobe, I don’t care. They let Abri walk out of here alone. Without protection. Without a fucking care.

“Please listen to me,” Layla begs. “She’ll be okay. She’s going to make sure Remy and Salvatore are close by. And promised that the meeting would be held in public. Somewhere with witnesses—”

“Who will report back to Adena if they’re seen together,” I snap. “Why the fuck would Geppet risk that if this wasn’t a setup?”

“Maybe because he’s already made up his mind to change sides.” She releases my arm. “Please, Bishop. You’re not thinking clearly. She knows this guy.”

But do they know Abri?

No.

Not like I do.

They have no clue what toll the manipulation has on her. That she gets high just to see herself through it.

“I hope you’re right.” I retract the blade.

“You need to go.” Langston straightens his shirt with a hard tug of the collar. “Pack your shit and head back to D.C. We’ll discuss this once I get home.”

“Oh, I’m definitely heading out of here, asshole.” I make for my bedroom to get that fucking car tire. “And if I don’t return with your sister, be prepared—I’ll be coming back for blood.”

30

ABRI

After convincing Matthew to go against Bishop’s assumed plan, I run for the front door, escaping in the slick black Lincoln.

My brother said he would contact Lorenzo. That he’d make sure Bishop had to leave the state right away. And I don’t want to be anywhere near that house when the news breaks.

I can’t risk caving to the man who’s winning my heart. Not again.

As soon as I reach the main road leading toward the city, I dial Geppet’s number, the call connecting on the third ring.

“Hey, baby girl.” His voice is groggy. Sleep-riddled?

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Kinda. I crashed as soon as I got home. Your mom hasn’t given me much chance to rest over the past few days.”

Shit. “Of course. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. What’s up?”

“I need to bring the timeline for our meeting a little closer.”

“How much closer?” he says through a yawn.

“Now?” I glance to the heavens with a silent prayer. “Well, in an hour or so if you’re up for it.”

“Babe, I’m tired as fuck.”

“I understand, but this is important. I’ve got information you’re going to want to hear.”

He sighs. “The things I do for you and that pretty face of yours. Can you come to my place?”

“Not really. I’m kinda caught up in the city,” I lie. I need time to get back to the hotel room I still have reserved from the nights before the gala. “Could you come to me? I’m staying at the Saffron and there’s this quiet Italian restaurant around the corner that’s perfect for a private conversation. I promise we won’t be seen.”

He falls quiet.

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