Page 202 of Bishop

“No.” The grip on my hand tightens. “No ambulance.”

I return my attention to Bishop, my entire heart consumed by the piercing blue that blinks back at me.

“You’ve been shot in the face,” I whisper.

“Is it a graze or do I have the misfortune of having a bullet in my head?”

I quickly scrutinize his wound, noting the elongated gash, the flesh around his cheekbone swelling. “I-I don’t know. A graze, I think.”

Remy bounds up the stairs, his frown pinning Bishop. “Holy shit. Your face looks like ground beef.”

“Graze or direct hit?” Bishop grates.

“Graze. Definitely a graze. You’re one lucky son of a bitch.”

“Then I’ll live.” Bishop releases my hand and winces as he pushes to a seated position.

I want to believe him. God, how I do. But luck has never been on my side.

“Please,” I beg. “You need medical attention.”

“Belladonna, we’re in the middle of a crime scene. My injuries can wait.”

“But your head… Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Like a motherfucker.”

Tilly’s head snaps around, her fragile stare eating up the gory sight of him as she shrinks into me, her fear renewed.

“I’m scaring her.” He winces, concern etching his brow before he glances away. “You need to get her out of here. Take her to the safe house.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Momma.” Tilly attempts to wiggle from my hold. “I need Momma.”

“Shh. It’s okay.” I soothe, gliding a hand through her hair, rocking us gently back and forth.

“Leave, Abri.” Bishop struggles to his feet. “You need to get somewhere safe before the cops show, and I don’t want the kid close when Adena gets what she deserves.”

37

BISHOP

The girl looks at me like I’m a waking nightmare, her blue eyes so astonishingly similar to Abri’s that it fucking kills me to have her peering back at me with vivid terror.

“Go.” I push to my feet, my head throbbing as if I’m living on borrowed time, blood slowly oozing along my jaw to drip onto my clothes. “Now, belladonna. The kid is petrified.”

Abri frowns. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want you here.”

She bristles. Cringes.

Fuck.

I didn’t mean it like that. Or maybe I did. Maybe I don’t give a shit how I get the two of them away from here as long as they’re gone.

She stands, cautiously eyeing me, hesitant as she clutches her daughter to her chest. “I’ll wait in the car.” She sidesteps Remy and starts down the stairs, meeting Salvatore’s gaze once she reaches the lawn. “Look after him. And do the opposite with our mother.”

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