“Abri, listen to me. As soon as word hits that your father is dead, all your family bank accounts will be frozen. You’ll have access to nothing. Which means no food. No gas. No fancy hotels. No ability to go where you want. Let me take you somewhere safe. Somewhere it’s quiet where you can work out a plan.”
That’s the problem—it doesn’t matter how quiet his safe haven is, I still won’t have the ability to figure out how to fix this disaster.
“Abri.” My name is a warning this time.
“I don’t want to see them again.” I raise my voice. “Wherever you take me, my brothers can’t know about it.”
“I hate seeing their pretty-boy faces more than you do.”
He’s placating me. But it’s all I have to rely on until I can manipulate my way under the skin of someone else who can help.
I unclasp my belt and climb over the center console.
Bishop stalks around the hood to open the driver’s door and sinks into the car. His chest is still on full display, his pants wet against the leather seat as he shifts into first.
“Get comfortable,” he mutters. “This will take a while.”
I stare through my side window, watching the only home I’ve ever known pass me by, praying I never have to return. I don’t breathe a word when we drive out the gates or take the back roads away from the city. I burrow farther into my seat, trying to mentally scream back at the voices in my head that tell me my future is beyond bleak.
“There’s a place about an hour from here.” Bishop turns on the radio, the low murmur of pop music doing little to distract me. “It’s out by the—”
“I know where it is.”
“You do?” He shoots me a glance, one brow raised in mocking disbelief.
“You don’t remember putting it into my car GPS last night?” I raise a superior brow of my own. “It was a few minutes after you took an air swing at Gordon and landed flat on your ass.”
He glowers, returning his attention to the road.
The silence eats at me, allowing the shadows of another panic attack to prowl into the outer edges of my consciousness. How will I get through this nightmare? Will my soul survive the repercussions?
“You don’t remember that either?” I ask, grasping for something to occupy my mind. “We were out the front of his property after you almost hit us in your car.”
“I remember.”
“Fighting isn’t really your strong suit, is it?” I focus on those memories, refusing to let the nightmares back in. “If you ever find yourself in a boxing ring, I suggest you play dead.”
A low rumble carries over the barely heard radio. Is he growling at me?
“You’re lucky I only used half that little baggie of sedatives,” I add, wishing he’d respond, silently begging for him to step between me and the monsters clawing at my thoughts.
His jaw ticks.
Pressure builds inside my chest as he ignores me, my fear, anxiety, heartache, and exhaustion mixing in a recipe of impending disaster. Will my brothers come after me? Will I be held accountable for their actions?
I can’t break down again. I can’t allow my demons to take control.
I swallow over the desert in my throat. “I’ll know better next time and utilize the full stash.”
“There won’t be a next time.” He glares at the road ahead.
“I’m sure there will be if you keep tagging along after me like a pitiful little puppy.”
He huffs a snide laugh. “I’m well aware you taunt me to distract yourself from your suffering, belladonna, but tread lightly. There’s a limit to how much bullshit I can take and you’re coming close to the threshold.”
My eyes burn at how easily he sees through me. At how pathetic I am when my life’s role has been to disguise the truth. “You’re the one who begged to come with me.”
“I’m the one whose job it is to protect you, despite the stupidity of volunteering for the role.” He turns his gaze to mine. “I’m good at what I do, Abri. But if you cross me again, I vow you’ll regret it.”