Page 107 of Seeking Vengeance

I want answers.

Matthew follows after him, his presence both comforting and daunting depending on whether I listen to my heart or my head.

“So…” Bishop drawls. “What’s going on?”

“I told her.” Matthew makes his way to the kitchenette, distancing himself as he scoots his ass onto the counter. He sits there, frustrated and remorseful, entirely focused on me while he leans forward in his immaculate suit, his elbows on his knees.

“Told her what exactly?” Bishop remains imperious as he watches me. Both of them attempting to slither their way under my skin for different reasons.

“That you’re in the mafia.” I cross my arms over my chest.

His eyes narrow. “Wewere,” he growls. “That shit is ancient history.”

Relief sparks a tiny flickering flame inside me. “Youwerein the mafia,” I correct. “You earned your way out of that life somehow, but decided to stay together afterward. Why?”

“You didn’t tell her the reason I stick around?” Bishop glances over his shoulder to the kitchen, but my lover’s daunting attention doesn’t leave me for a second.

“No, he didn’t,” I answer. Not really.

Bishop scoffs a laugh. “It’s because Matty boy wants to receive his very own martyrdom status. I need to stay close so he doesn’t obtain his title.”

I frown, glancing from Bishop’s smug expression to Matthew’s cold one. “What does that mean?”

Are we talking about suicide?

“That’s enough dramatics,” Matthew mutters. “He’s here for protection.”

Bishop clears his throat louder than necessary. “If you were concerned about protection, you’d carry a gun.”

“I said, that’s enough.”

The questions in my head multiply. There are so many more now than the millions I had before.

“Quit the look of defeat, darlin’.” Bishop uncrosses his legs to kick his shoes onto the coffee table. “Your bad boy fix isn’t going to end anytime soon. Not unless you finally start listening to my warnings. You should’ve walked when I pushed.”

What? Had his aggression been for my benefit? To scare me away from all this?

“I didn’t plan on dragging you into my life,amore mio.” Matthew pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re the last thing I expected to find in Denver.”

“I can attest to that,” Bishop agrees. “Which brings us to the topic of the Costas and your association with them.”

I cinch my arms tighter around my middle. “I think we have more pressing things to discuss, don’t you? Like being shot at?”

“If you’d prefer to discuss blatant dangers first instead of those that are far more sinister in their subtlety, then that’s fine with me.” He shrugs. “Lorenzo sends his apologies. He understands the complications he must have caused between you and Matthew, and begs forgiveness.”

“So he knew the attack was coming?” Matthew asks.

“No. He underestimated how hungry the local biker gangs are for power. There’s a turf war over distribution, and Lorenzo refused to get involved. He wanted them to sort it out amongst themselves. Now he assumes this morning was a little nudge to let him know they’d prefer his involvement.”

He relays the information as if it’s week-old news. As if we hadn’t just been in a life-threatening situation moments ago due to the drug trade.

I see through the tough-guy act, though. He’d been the first to shove to his feet when the threat arrived. He’d feared for Lorenzo and Matthew’s lives, if not his own.

“He wanted you to know he’s taken care of the police.” He talks over his shoulder. “He spoke to them while I was downstairs and promised he was leaving to go see his doctor.”

“Bullshit,” Matthew mutters. “You know he won’t.”

“You might be right, but I’m not going to cup his balls while he takes a piss. If he goes, he goes. If he doesn’t, that’s not my fault. He’s not our responsibility anymore.”

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