Page 62 of Bishop

I hate that he’s privy to the type of things I’ve done. Where my power comes from. But worst of all, I loathe the edge in his tone. The judgement.

This guy just killed a man for laying hands on me, yet I’m disgraceful for using pleasure instead of pain to get what I want?

I glower through the shame. “This conversation is over.”

“I wasn’t trying to piss you off.” He raises his hands in surrender.

“Then what were you trying to do?”

“Make conversation.” He shrugs. “Get you to open up. Hell, just having you take a few bricks off that wall you’ve got built around you would be nice.”

“You’re a smart guy, Bishop. You should know walls are built for a reason. If I wanted them down they would be.”

What the hell am I doing?

I should be working him. Manipulating him. A few bats of my lashes, a flash of a sultry smile, and a subtle increase to my cleavage and I’m sure I could have him wrapped around my little finger. Why have I waited this long?

“You’re right.” He pushes from the cupboard and straightens. “It’s none of my business. The problem is, I have one more question I need to have answered before I can drop this subject.”

I hold my breath, praying he doesn’t know, silently begging for one saving grace from the universe. “And what question is that?”

He holds my gaze, the calm confidence taunting me. “Does anyone else know you and the senator had a kid together?”

13

BISHOP

I inched toward the question as slowly as I could. Patiently crept into it with stealth because I had a feeling the child has been the reason behind her emotional state since Emmanuel’s death.

An assumption that seems accurate if the horrified shock frozen across her features is any indication.

“Do your brothers know?” I move closer, conscious of the increased pace of her breaths.

She’s freaking out again, the color draining from her face.

“It’s okay.” I keep my hands raised, palms up, non-threatening. “Whatever the problem, you’re going to be fine.”

She stumbles backward. “What else did he tell you?”

“What else is there to know?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Bishop.” Her eyes are stark with panic. “Tell me what he said.”

“Nothing.” It’s the truth, laid bare and given too easily. Her suffering does strange things to me.

I’ve killed many and tortured more without feeling the faintest whisper of humanity, yet the suffering before me screams through my skull. “All I know is you have a kid, and the senator has been giving you money in what I assume is some sort of extortion-driven child support.”

She winces, her nose crinkling through the rapid pace of her breaths.

I don’t know why she does this to me, but the more I learn about her, the more secrets I crave to reveal.

“It’s okay.” I chance another inch toward her. “Whatever you need you’ll get. Your kid will be taken care of.”

“Stop.” She hyperventilates, those perfect tits rising and falling faster and faster.

“It’s true. Money isn’t an issue. And safety doesn’t need to be either.” I reach out, touching her arm.

My actions are foreign. As if I’m watching myself through a lens.

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