Page 145 of Bishop

“One day I’d love to hear all about it. But for now, do you mind if I sit with you for a while?”

“I won’t stop you.”

She takes a seat on the far side of the bench, her attention turning to the men on the porch, her smile fading. She’s quiet a moment, contemplative, then finally she turns to me, her expression impassive. “Abri, I’m really sorry that helping me escape your house put you in this position.”

I shake my head. “That’s not what this is about. My mother only mentioned you to make me look like a traitor. More than likely to convince Geppet of all the horrible things she’s been saying about me during their time together.” If anything, it’s a positive sign that I’m still capable of flipping him to my side. “She’s never needed a reason to hate me. It’s something that’s always come naturally.”

“I can’t imagine how that feels,” she speaks softly. “How much it must hurt.”

It’s not a question, so I don’t bother responding.

“Motherhood can be the greatest gift,” she continues, “but it can also be the most terrifying maze, even at the best of times. To be going through this has to be—”

“I’ll figure it out.” I don’t want to talk feelings. Or daughters. Or my mother.

I need to rebuild the walls Bishop crumbled. To reclaim the backbone that made me the heartless bitch who waded through the muddied trenches, seducing her way to notoriety.

I glance at him again from beneath my lashes, my insides squeezing. He leans against the porch railing, holding a heated conversation with Lorenzo I can’t quite make out but am certain should involve me.

“Have you worked him out yet?” Layla murmurs.

“Hmm?” I pretend I didn’t hear her. I’m not overly enthusiastic to talk about the man who’s driving me crazy.

“Bishop. He’s very slow to warm up to people. And even then you’re treading barely tepid waters if he does. But I always had this feeling he was a stand-up guy… At least until this morning.”

“What changed your opinion?”

“You,” she states simply. “When we first drove up to the house, it looked like you two were an item. But then he was kicking in doors and getting in your face as if the two of you are enemies.” She turns her body toward mine, her gaze sympathetic. “Has he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Do you feel safe around him?”

My stomach clenches. My heart follows suit. The moments I’ve been close to Bishop are the only times I’ve ever felt safe, but I don’t want her to know that. I don’t want anyone knowing.

“Because if you don’t,” she continues, “I’ll return the favor you gave me last time we met and help you get away from here.”

I should take her up on the offer. Should grasp it with both hands. But I’m not ready yet. I’m still flailing. “You’d betray Matthew?”

“It’s not betrayal. I already spoke to him about my concerns on the flight here. He understands I owe you a debt and that it will need to be repaid.”

As if sensing our conversation shift, my oldest brother stands and makes his way down the porch stairs.

“He looks like shit,” I mutter.

“He really does. I’m so worried about him, but he won’t listen when I tell him to rest.”

“He was never one to follow orders.” Growing up, he was the most headstrong of us all. The most determined. The only one capable of turning his back on our family’s wealth and risking homelessness to try and make it on his own.

“Hey.” He stops in front of me, his suit pristine, his face ragged.

“Hey, yourself.”

“Do you feel like talking to me yet?”

“Not really.”

He slides his hands into his pockets, seeming humbled. “Will you do it anyway?”

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