Page 148 of Bishop

“Good idea.”

I nod to myself, falling quiet, too busy thinking about what tactics I can use to siphon information out of Geppet to notice my brother is equally silent.

He clears his throat. Shifts awkwardly on the bench.

I can tell an uncomfortable conversation is coming before he opens his mouth and says, “I wish I’d known what you were going through, Bree.”

I fight a groan.

With my meeting with Geppet looming, now more than ever, I need to pull my head out of my ass and reclaim my tenacity. There’s no more room for pitiful conversations even if I’m not the one instigating them.

He gives a sad smile. “I would’ve dropped everything to help—”

“Please don’t. If you want to have a companionable relationship, then fine, we can have a companionable relationship. But you don’t get to make apologies and pretend my daughter would be safe if only you’d been a part of our lives.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to say.”

“But it’s what you’re thinking. It’s what you’re all thinking. That if only you’d known what was going on, then you could’ve stopped it. You could’ve handled our father better than I did.”

“No.” His voice is solemn. “I left all those years ago because I was no better at beating Emmanuel than you were. I know he would’ve given you no choice. Nobody blames you for this.”

Nobody but me.

Footsteps crunch in the grass behind me, the sound approaching. I ache for it to be Bishop and I hate myself for it.

“Everything okay?” Salvatore asks.

I hold Matthew’s gaze as our two brothers join us. Remy to my left. Salvo on my right. All four siblings reunited for the first time without the tyranny of our parents, but now we’re more at odds than we’ve ever been.

“Yeah.” I shrug. “Just trying to figure out which one of you to snuff first.”

Salvatore winces. Remy’s reaction is identical.

It’s Matthew who smirks. “The obvious choice is Rem. Always start with the youngest and weakest.”

“Very funny,” Remy drawls. “If it were me, I’d pick the brother with the least brain cells.”

“That’s Matthew,” Salvatore states at the same time Matthew says, “Salvatore.”

I roll my eyes, wishing I could appreciate how they’re joking about my tasked triple homicide.

“Don’t worry.” Remy bumps my shoulder with his. “We’ll figure something out.”

I want to revel in the comradery. To sink beneath its surface and let it coat me head to toe. But there’s fragility in those depths. I can’t start relying on anyone.

“I’m not the type to appreciate warrantless placations.” I step away. “I’ll take care of this on my own.”

“But you don’t have to.” Matthew pushes to his feet with a wince. “Mom isn’t with Geppet anymore. He’s by himself. We can squeeze him for information.”

I raise my chin, the only outward reaction to the betrayal that’s gone on behind my back. “When did you find that out?”

“Not long ago.”

“When?” I measure the word. The tone. My temper. “This is my daughter’s life you’re playing with yet somehow you think it’s okay to withhold information from me? I should’ve been told straight away.”

Matthew holds up his palms in placation. “You’ve got a lot to think about. We’re just trying to measure that load.”

“We? You and who? Remy and Salvo? Lorenzo? Bishop? Or all of the above?” I raise a condemning brow. “Who else knows more than I do?”

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