Page 207 of Bishop

“Why?” I ask. “What’s going on?”

“Just pull over.”

The call dies and Remy slows the car, giving me a sympathetic glance while he pulls to a stop in the middle of the desolate road.

Headlights close in behind us. One car. Then another.

I stalk the side mirror as a figure approaches in the moonlight. The cane. The hobbled footsteps.

I lower my window when Lorenzo stops beside my door.

He stares down at the child in my arms, his face grim. “I can take her from here.”

“What?” My heart lurches, my arms instinctively tightening around my daughter.

“I will make sure she’s safe.” Lorenzo’s face softens. “I already made the necessary calls this afternoon. I never expected this, but I didn’t trust my brother-in-law to have given this precious girl the parents she deserves.”

I sit stunned. Frantic.

Lorenzo opens my door, his kind eyes taking in my daughter who inches away from him. “It’s best to make the transition now. Before more attachments are made. I will go straight to the airport and deliver her to friends of mine in Florence.”

Florence?

“No.” I need more time.

Lorenzo reaches out, his wrinkled fingers gently touching Tilly’s arm. She whimpers, her fear slicing through me with serrated edges.

“Don’t.” I tilt her away. “Let me think.”

“Momma,” Tilly cries. “Want Momma.”

“I know, sweetheart.” I rock her in the seat, the two of us swaying while I fight panic. I’m not ready to let her go. I want to get to know her. To understand her. To mother her.

Even just for a little while.

“It’s going to be hard regardless,” Remy murmurs. “Now or later, it’s all the same, but the aftermath will be easier on her if she doesn’t get attached to you in the meantime.”

Does he think I don’t know that? That I’m not well aware every second she clings to me will cause more damage later?

“The Bernardis are good people.” Lorenzo places a hand to my wrist. “They’re childless despite their best efforts and will cherish Tilly like the gift she is.”

My rampant pulse chokes me. The beat too fast. Too hard.

“They will love her as if she’s their own.”

“But she’s not their own.” My voice breaks. “She’s mine. My daughter. Mine to protect.”

Lorenzo pulls back, his expression filled with concern. “Only if you’re willing to take on the responsibility.”

Willing?

My will has never been the issue. It’s always been my worth. My ability. The likelihood that I’ll make Tilly’s life worse merely by being a part of it.

“You could be a good mother, Abri,” Remy whispers. “Hell, just look at you. You already are.”

No. I suck in a breath and Tilly’s arms tighten around me. Clinging. Grappling.

I don’t know the first thing about being a mom. I wouldn’t even know where to start. And right now, this beautiful child needs the best.

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