Page 197 of Bishop

Bishop stills.

I do the same, my eyes burning. “Please, Mom. Don’t do this.”

My mother straightens again, hitching Tilly in her arms.

She’s going to kill my daughter. Going to make me watch.

“There’s no way out.” Bishop creeps forward.

“Who says I’m looking for a way out?” she drawls. “Maybe all I want is retribution for my husband’s murder.”

“Then take it up with your sons. Abri and the child have nothing to do with Emmanuel’s death.”

Tilly blubbers. Shaking. Wheezing.

I can’t stand it. Everything inside me aches for her—my chest unbearably tight, my stomach painfully hollow.

“Please.” I fall to my knees, struggling to breathe through the agony. “Mom, take me instead. I’ll help you set up a new life. I’ll do whatever—”

“Put your gun down.” My mother ignores me, talking directly to Bishop.

“You know I can’t do that. If I lower my weapon Abri and I are both dead.”

“And if you don’t the girl will be.”

“You’re going to kill your own granddaughter, Adena?” Bishop takes another slow step.

“If I have to.” She jabs the gun against the back of Tilly’s head again, causing more anguished cries. “The kid is no loss to me. I’ve despised her existence since birth.”

“But if you kill her, then I’ll kill you.” He inches closer to the porch, the space between us feeling like a chasm as I remain on the cold lawn, panicking over how I can cause a diversion. “It doesn’t seem like a great plan if you’re both dead.”

“My death will mean I’m reunited with my husband.” Her response is spoken through a taunting smile. “Either way I get what I want, which is my daughter’s suffering.”

“Have I not suffered enough?” I choke out. “You stole my child.”

“A child you never could’ve raised on your own. Now tell him to put his gun down or watch your bastard kid die.”

There’s no winning this. If Bishop doesn’t drop his gun, Tilly’s life is over. And if he does we’re both dead.

“Now,” she roars.

Tilly screams, every second of her fear scarring me, never to be healed.

“Mom, listen.” I clasp my hands in front of me, praying to a god who never saw me. Who never acknowledged my existence in this living hell. “You don’t want me to suffer because every moment I remain alive I’ll be constantly at the back of your mind. Haunting you. Stopping you from moving on.” I climb to shaky feet. “End me now. Get this over with.”

“Abri,” Bishop warns.

“No, this is what she really wants.” I don’t have a death wish. More than anything, I want to see tomorrow and what it holds for Tilly. All I’m striving for is enough of a distraction to keep Adena occupied until my brothers question why I haven’t sent another update and rush onto the scene. Hopefully then my daughter won’t be the center of attention. “If you hate me so much, kill me now.”

“Abri, stop.” Bishop raises his hands in surrender, the gun falling limp in his pinched grip on the hilt.

“What are you doing?” I whisper. “She’ll shoot you.”

The briefest hint of crunching asphalt carries in the distance, the sound of cars approaching bringing the barest dose of hope.

“You’re targeting the wrong person.” Bishop stands tall, his back to me. “I’m more to blame for your husband’s death than Abri. Who do you think got in Matthew’s ear and told him Emmanuel needed to die? For years I nagged your son to kill the asshole who murdered his childhood sweetheart just so he could get some closure, let alone karma.”

That’s not true.

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