Page 84 of Bishop

I need to do whatever he says as long as it means forward progression toward Tilly. I’ll stay in my lane. I’ll attempt to be someone I’m not—someone who doesn’t manipulate or deceive. I’ll adhere to his terms because if I don’t I’m on my own, with no money, no leads, and no hope.

“Come on. Get up.” He steps back from the bed. “It’s time to eat.”

I sigh and scoot from the mattress, too drained for food yet well aware I’ve barely eaten all day.

“Want to get rid of the temptation?” He holds out a hand as I pass.

I pause, the vial of coke warm in my palm. “I can take care of it.”

“Fair enough. But the offer stands if you change your mind.” His voice lowers to a calm, controlled timbre, so confidently smooth and authoritative. “I won’t ask you to trust me again either, but I will tell you I know you’re strong enough to get through this without that shit clouding your judgement.”

I lock down my expression, not showing how hard his faith hits me square in the chest.

He’s nobody to me. Yet he’s also so many things nobody else has ever been—a savior, a protector.

I stand there, stripped bare, thankful yet scared someone is finally seeing me. The real me. Not only the viper who revels in seduction and exploitation, but also the battered puppet, strung into action by threads of cruelty and malice, who desperately wants to pull her life together.

My eyes blaze with the fight to keep my emotions in check. The heat in my tingling nose increases.

I lower my gaze to the carpet, my throat drying with each beat of my pulse.

He doesn’t move from his place a few feet in front of me. He doesn’t walk away like he should. He remains quiet as I struggle to hide the slightly ragged hitches of my breathing, the ache in my chest growing unbearable.

“What do you need from me?” he murmurs so quietly I almost think I’m imagining it. The care. The concern.

Part of me is convinced it’s a trick. Some sort of cruel tactic to get me to weaken further. Yet another more grueling part of me scrambles to cling to the lifeline.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Whatever it is you need just tell me. I’m not going anywhere. I might as well help while I’m here.”

The torment grows inside me, tearing at my heart, threatening to turn me into a puddle of pathetic frailty.

“I need to know she’s safe.” I blink faster, the carpet blurring before me. “That’s all.”

“I already know that part, and I’m working on it. What else can I do?”

Each word claws at my defenses, battering my shields. “I don’t know.”

“Figure it out, belladonna.”

I raise my chin to look at him.

He stands tall before me. An emotionless wall. Strong, sturdy, and too goddamn reliable.

I don’t get how his sterile strength is appealing. How he can be cold and consoling at the same time.

All I want is to lean into that strength. To siphon it. Devour it.

“Tell me, Abri.”

I can’t. He’ll think I’m trying to seduce him again, and I won’t risk earning more of his wrath.

“Say it.” There’s a demand in his tone, one I desperately want to adhere to.

“I don’t need anything else.” I start for the door, the threat of tears heating my eyes.

“Bullshit.” His hand latches around my wrist and I’m tugged backward. “Why can’t you just fucking ask?”

I gasp as I’m swirled to face him, dragged roughly into his chest, his arms wrapping around me.

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