Page 169 of Bishop

“You know what I mean.” He lowers his voice. “Salvo is a fucking wreck under all that macho testosterone. A week ago, he thought he was dealing with the brunt of our father’s insanity. Now he knows better and can’t forgive himself. Not to mention the whole future with the mafia situation.”

I cringe, my own guilt trying to dig its claws back in. “I can’t talk about this now.”

“I know. I just didn’t want you leaving the hotel thinking we’re not one hundred percent behind you.” He steps out of the way. “You’re stronger than I am, Bree.”

It’s not strength. Bishop taught me it’s a lack of self-preservation.

But I don’t say that out loud.

I walk back into the main room where Salvatore sits on the end of my bed, frowning at his cell.

A buzz sounds from Remy’s jacket and I glance to him as he retrieves the device to read the message with a matching scowl.

“Something wrong?” I grab a clutch from the wardrobe and confirm one of my mini stun guns is waiting inside.

“No.” Remy locks the cell and shoves it back in his pocket.

“Is it Bishop?” I raise a brow, dropping my lipstick and phone into the clutch beside the weapon.

Salvatore flops back on the mattress, his silence telling.

“What did he say?” I demand.

“Just the same old shit he’s been saying since you decided to meet with Geppet tonight.”

“Elaborate or hand over your phone.” I hold out a palm to Remy.

“It’s nothing.”

“Nothing more than a rather vivid explanation of how he’s going to skin me alive,” Salvatore mutters.

“Lucky you,” Remy drawls. “Apparently I’m getting placed in a barrel of acid.”

“He won’t touch you,” I say with confidence even though I have absolutely no idea how to get between a butcher and his calling. “Ignore him. I’ll deal with the fallout from his tantrum later.”

“No, I’ll take care of him.” Salvatore pushes to his feet. “It’s about time me and that asshole settled our differences.”

I want to protest, to tell my brother he doesn’t stand a chance against someone like Bishop. But it’s a discussion for another time. I don’t have the bandwidth for more drama at the moment. “I need to go.”

They both nod. Sullen.

“The Italian restaurant around the corner, right?” Remy clarifies.

“Yeah.” I make for the door, my clutch clamped under my elbow. “Stay out of sight. If Geppet sees you—”

“He won’t.” Salvatore follows me. “We’ll find a parking spot nearby and hide behind the tinted windows.”

“Good.” I pull the door wide, indicating for them to walk before me, not bothering with a farewell that could lead to an emotional avalanche. “I’ll go down in the elevator after you. We can meet back here once I’m done.”

They nod and comply, leaving me to gnaw on my bottom lip until my elevator arrives.

Once I reach the lobby I put my game face on, my chin held high.

I keep the guise in place as I saunter from the hotel and around the block to the meeting spot. I look inside as I approach, the romantic, dim lighting of Città Italiana making the back of the restaurant hard to see from the street but not impossible.

The perfect balance for Geppet’s paranoia and my safety.

I’m about to walk inside to request a table when a hand grabs my wrist, and I almost drop my clutch.

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