Page 127 of Ruthless Redemption

The pilot slinks back into the cockpit, silently closing the door behind him.

“And what about Abri?” Remy accuses. “She doesn’t get upset for no reason.” He switches his attention to Salvo. “We can’t abandon her.”

“I know. But what if this is the only opportunity we get? Are you willing to risk it?”

“You’re one conversation away from a new life,” I warn. “Choose wisely.”

“And that conversation could mean our sister is left to suffer alone through a fucking nightmare. We don’t know what he’s got her doing at this gala, but it’s obviously something more fucked-up than usual.”

“What’s the usual?” Bishop asks. “What does Emmanuel get her to do?”

My brothers fall silent.

“What the fuck does he get her to do?” I demand.

“Whatever the hell he likes. Entrapment. Blackmail. Extortion,” Remy barks. “He uses her like a goddamn whore on retainer.” He heaves the phone across the cabin, the device splitting as it hits the wall, then splinters to the floor.

Layla gasps.

Bishop mutters a curse.

Everyone functions around me while I’m stuck on pause, barely able to think through the rage tightening my skull.

“Let them go back to Denver,” Layla whispers. “We’ll figure out another way.”

I can’t fucking allow it. If they leave it means more delays. More torture. More punishment for Layla, who needs closure.

My brothers are the gatekeepers to an easy slaughter.

But my sister…

“Let them go,” she repeats, her calm expression forced. “We’ll figure it out.”

My lungs tighten with the failure. My temples fucking throb.

“I’ll go,” Bishop mutters. “You don’t need me here, right? I’ll fly to Denver and get Abri to calm her tits. You guys can meet me there by nightfall.”

Nobody speaks.

Is his suggestion mindlessly reckless or the perfect alternative? He’ll be on his own in Emmanuel’s territory. But on the other hand, he isn’t needed for the conversation with Lorenzo.

“She won’t talk to you.” Remy stands and faces my right-hand man. “You won’t get anywhere near her.”

“Let me worry about that while you concentrate on remembering the terms you agreed to yesterday and how you gave your fucking word. I don’t take kindly to liars.”

“We didn’t—”

Bishop’s lip curls. “Get off the fucking jet and let me deal with your sister.”

They glare at each other. Two grown-ass men trying to win a testosterone building competition as they stand hunched in the cabin.

“He’s right.” Salvo pushes from his seat to move between them. “We gave our word. We need to see this through.”

“And what about Abri?”

Salvo sighs. “We’re going to have to trust that he’ll take care of her.”

“He will,” I vow. They might not trust Bishop, but they’re here because they trust me. “He’ll handle her until we can get there.”

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