Page 36 of Renegade Rift

“Why are you telling me this now?” I ask.

“I didn’t think his extramarital tendencies were relevant to finding her,” Bishop says with a shrug.

My mind races, trying to put together all the reasons this could be relevant to Tyler accumulating millions in debt that then fell on to Juliet. “What if one of those women had gone after her? Maybe one of them came demanding money and threatened to expose his affair publicly.”

That gets a chuckle out of Bishop. “What is this, a daytime TV show?”

“What if he got one of them pregnant?”

“And they extorted Etta for millions?”

“I don’t know.” I scrub my face with my uninjured hand. “At this point, my mind has come up with a million different scenarios why Tyler had all that debt.”

“Wait, the debt was Tyler’s, not Etta’s?”

“One point six million, to be exact.”

He lets out a falling whistle, as he turns and leans against the wall. “But it kind of makes sense.”

I tilt my head and arch my brow. “It does?”

“I’m not sure if it’s related, but your brother liked to bet on anything and everything he could. He was the first to get a poker game going on the plane. Hell, I’m pretty sure he had a standing bet with Tommy every game on how long the national anthem would go.”

“Why the hell would you bet on that?”

“Because I suspect your brother had a gambling problem.”

A gambling problem.

Fuck.

Bishop is right. It all makes sense.

Tyler’s father was an alcoholic with the most addictive personality I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Not to mention he was competitive as hell. Of course, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. But then to let it trickle down and become Juliet’s problem? As if the cheating wasn’t enough.

It’s a good thing my stepbrother is dead, because if he wasn’t, he would be as soon as I got my hands on him.

“Ford,” Bishop calls my name, and by the way he’s looking at me, I get the feeling he’s said it more than once.

My eyes narrow, filled with emotion that morphs into bitter accusation. “Why are youjusttelling me about this now?”

Bishop scoffs. “Are you fucking kidding me? Sorry, I was a little busy dealing with the fact I lost my entire team in one night.”

“Fuck.” Guilt wracks me as I remember the front-row seat I had to watching Bishop claw his way back from the depths of his grief. It wasn’t pretty, and here I am, all but insinuating he should have put my needs first. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean?—”

“I know.” Bishop nods, and there truly is nothing but understanding in his gaze. “You’re just trying to figure out what happened and deal with the fallout. I get it. And I’m sorry I haven’t been more help. I sort of pushed a lot of things to the back of my mind in order to survive.”

I understand too. I did the same thing when my mom passed. My teammates were the ones who made sure I didn’t let the tendrils of grief sneak up and consume me. Bishop didn’t have that until Willow stepped up and took on that role, eventually leading him to be the heart of the Renegades.

“It’s not your fault.” I reassure him, cupping my hand on his shoulder. “I was an ass.”

We stand there in silence, each of us no doubt mulling over all the information and our actions over the last year. This team may be the greatest thing that ever happened to us, but it also has wreaked nothing but havoc in each of our lives.

“Fucking hell.” Tyler did this.

“That’s why she disappeared, isn’t it?” Bishop surmises. “Why the penthouse was sold and none of us could find her. Someone came after her for the money Tyler owed.”

My jaw tightens hard enough my molars might crack from the pressure. “All signs are pointing that way.”

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