Page 128 of Bishop

“I don’t usually treat women like anything. But Lorenzo has assumed the way I’m acting toward you places your holiness in a different category.”

“I’m sure you enjoyed telling him otherwise.”

God, she infuriates me.

I want to grab that perfect face in my blood-stained hands and yell at her to quit the taunts. To stop having the last fucking word because it’s driving me batshit fucking crazy. “Do you want me to stay, Abri? Is that it?”

“Hell no. I can’t wait to see the back of you.” Her smile is malicious before she turns on her heel. “Safe travels, Bishop.”

Fuck… Fine.

Goodbye it is.

She starts for the house, the long grass brushing her thighs, the sway of her hips no doubt deliberately erotic. Even walking away, she taunts me.

“I’ll find an alternative to Lorenzo’s phone call before I leave,” I yell after her, my own cell vibrating in my pocket. “It’s a mistake to reach out to Adena through him. Give me a few hours to organize an alternate plan.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Yes, you do.” I yank my phone from my pocket. Najeeb’s name is written across the screen. “Give me more time, belladonna.”

“Go fuck yourself, Bishop.”

24

ABRI

I refuse to acknowledge the heat of Bishop’s attention on the back of my neck. I ignore his existence as I stride across the porch to pull open the glass door and enter the back of the house.

Remy and Salvatore turn to stare at me from the kitchen, while Matthew remains at the dining table, his face a sickening shade of grey as Layla begs him to lie down.

“Soon.” He gives her a sad smile and meets my gaze. “We think we have a way for you to get in contact with Adena. Sit and we can talk.”

I do as requested, reclaiming my seat at the head of the table as the thud of Lorenzo’s walking stick approaches down the hall.

He enters the room with a warm smile and waves a hand at Remy and Salvo. “Come.”

Everyone returns to their previous positions, the room exactly the same except for the void Bishop’s absence has created.

“You have a decision to make, mia cara.” Lorenzo hooks his walking stick onto the corner of the table. “After your father’s passing, I spoke to your mother on the phone. It wasn’t civil by any means, but the lines of communication were open, and I feel they still are. Which leads me to believe I could call her right now and she would answer.”

My heart beats a little harder, the desire for forward momentum screaming at me to move, move, move.

“It will give you the opportunity to tell her you had nothing to do with Dad’s death,” Salvatore adds. “And ask where your daughter is.”

I run the potential conversation over in my mind, not liking the way it sounds. “Being with Lorenzo makes me look guilty.”

“That is remarkably similar to what Bishop said.” There’s a hint of admonishment in my uncle’s tone. “Has he already discussed this with you?”

I shrug. “He mentioned something about a call. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” Salvatore scoffs.

“He has a sixth sense when it comes to this shit.” Matthew shifts in his chair with a wince. “If he has an opinion, we should listen.”

“His judgment is clouded,” Lorenzo disagrees. “It’s best if we move fast. Make the call. Then deal with whatever results arise.”

“The arising results could be a dead child,” I state, hating how easy it is to picture my daughter murdered by my mother’s hands. There are so many ways she could do it. Poison. Sleeping pills. A bullet.

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