Page 199 of Bishop

She freezes on the bottom step, her attention narrowing on me with a scowl. “You won’t kill me.”

I want to. My head screams at me to pull the trigger, but my fingers won’t comply. “Move another inch and you’ll see how wrong you are.” I approach, my legs weak, my heart on fire at the silence that comes from Bishop and Tilly.

I can’t see my little girl because of his bulking frame. Can’t understand where she is. If she’s trapped beneath his body.

There’s only the sound of running footsteps carrying from the road.

“Tilly?” I raise my voice. “Bishop?”

I keep the gun trained on my mother as my brothers rush the yard, weapons drawn.

“What the fuck?” Salvatore comes up beside me, panting. “Where’s…” The question fades as his attention falls to the porch. “Are they dead?”

I open my mouth but can’t answer. I can’t do anything as Remy rushes up to my other side.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

No. I’m the farthest from okay I’ve ever been.

I can’t understand what’s happening. To Tilly. To Bishop. To me.

My body wages war, pulling me apart from the inside out. I’m shaking. My heart trembling. My stomach hollow. My chest tight.

I feel like I’m racing against the clock while stuck firmly in place. Still but frantic. Alert yet so goddamn cloudy.

I want to rush the porch but I can’t move. Want to kill my mother yet can’t bring myself to do it.

She squares her shoulders, a look of authority bearing down on me. “You should have let me leave.” She takes a step.

I squeeze the trigger, the bullet passing her right shoulder to hit the house with a thwack.

“Fuck.” Salvatore flinches. “Goddamnit, Abri. I’ve got her in my sights, okay? She’s not going anywhere.”

“Neither are they.” My mother grins at Bishop and Tilly. “I shot him in the head and your daughter no longer cries to be saved, Abri. I think the son of a bitch may have crushed her.”

My vision blurs, my worst fears hitting my ears.

Remy hesitantly reaches for my gun. “You should go to the car. We’ll take it from here.”

“No.” I find the strength to step away but let him take the weapon. “I need to see for myself.”

“Abri, don’t.” He grabs my wrist. “I’ll do it for you.”

I ignore him, my feet moving of their own accord, tears blurring my vision.

My brothers follow me forward, stopping in front of our mother.

I barely take notice of how they grab her, lowering her to her knees. My attention is too focused on Bishop, lifeless as he lays face-down against the blood-splattered porch.

My pulse pounds in my ears. In my throat.

I can’t make out the muffled words of my brothers as they sneer at my mother. There’s only my deafening pulse as I approach certain heartbreak.

Tilly’s torso pokes out from under the large arm that’s wrapped around her, one that tried so hard to keep her safe. Her face remains hidden beneath Bishop’s shoulder, the top of her head barely visible. Her pink pajamas are splattered with blood. Gruesome little polka dots I’ll never forget the sight of.

He tried to save her. He put his life on the line, risked everything, and now…

I suck in a shaky sob and fall to my knees beside them, my hands numb as I grab Bishop’s shoulder to haul him off of her. I close my eyes as I lift, silently begging for mercy. For hope. For a second chance.