Page 166 of Bishop

“Please, Gep. I need you.” I let the temptress enter my voice, the first dangle of the carrot hovering in front of him.

“Fine. But call me Aaron. I like when you say my name.”

I ignore the nauseating squeeze of my stomach. “Okay.”

We arrange to meet in an hour—just enough time for me to freshen up and look the part. Then I disconnect and call Remy.

“You need to get your ass in the city. ASAP.” This is the only stipulation Matthew demanded—that I have our brothers watch over me. “I’m meeting Geppet in an hour.”

“Fuck. Okay. Where exactly?”

I relay the details, warn them not to be seen, and ignore all his concerns before ending the call.

For the first time since Tilly was taken from me, I feel like I’m making forward momentum toward my daughter. That I’ll finally get to know if she’s safe and well.

But the slight wave of apprehensive optimism disappears once I approach the outer edge of the city, my phone vibrating on the passenger seat. Bishop’s name stares up at me, the gentle buzz, buzz, buzz of the incoming call seeming far more aggressive than usual.

I keep both hands on the wheel, side-eying the flashing name until the vibrations stop.

I don’t answer when he calls a second time.

Or a third.

Or fourth.

By the time I pull up at the valet stand of the Saffron and hand over my keys, guilt has firmly lodged itself in my throat, making it hard to swallow.

Then the messages start, each short, sharp vibration echoing my footsteps through the hotel lobby.

Bishop

Answer your fucking phone and tell me where you are.

My throat tightens.

Bishop

Was that your plan all along? Get me to trust you, then stab me in the back?

My heart clenches.

Bishop

You realize your brothers are dead if anything happens to you. I’ll wear Salvo’s head like a fucking crown.

I shut my walls down, blocking out any other unwanted response.

I can’t let him weaken me further. I have to be focused.

I stop before the hotel elevators, my confidence regenerating enough that when the next call comes through I answer with my head held high.

“I’ll find you,” he warns in greeting.

“Shouldn’t you already be on your way to the airport?”

“The things I should do in regards to you have never seemed to be a preference for some reason. So you’d do well to start preparing for me to make good on my promise.”

“It kinda sounds more like a threat, Bishop.” I slap my hand against the elevator call button and quickly check to make sure I still have the room card in my phone case. “And I rarely listen to those.”

---