Page 48 of Ruthless Redemption

“It’s not that easy.”

I glance to the table, my attention latching onto Layla staring back at me. “Then I’ll do it myself.”

“You can’t kill him,” Abri whispers. “I understand it’s what he deserves, but please don’t be reckless enough to try.”

I keep staring at the woman who owns me. The one whose pleas I need to value more than any other. My siblings made a choice. They could’ve walked away like I did. They may not have known about Grace’s murder, but they were well aware of Emmanuel’s dark side.

“Look, I’ve gotta go,” she says in a rush. “I don’t want to get caught talking to you. But please be careful.”

I frown. “What’s this really about?”

“We’ll speak later.”

She disconnects before I can stop her, leaving me to speculate about her intentions.

“Who was it?” Bishop asks.

I slide the device back into my pocket and return to my seat at the table. “Abri.”

His eyes narrow. “What did the viper want?”

“To help, apparently. She said Emmanuel’s men are looking for us.”

“How is that helpful? It’s common fucking sense. My guess is that she traced the call.”

I reclaim my cutlery, hoping for Abri’s sake that she isn’t trying to make me an enemy.

“Unless she’s still working with you somehow.” Bishop pins Layla with a stare. “I never got an explanation as to why she helped you escape Emmanuel’s house.”

“She was helping herself. Not me.” She shakes her head. “She told me she owed Cole a favor. It was something about him showing her kindness the night Benji died.”

“And why would he show her kindness?” Bishop asks.

Good question. I don’t like the thought of that fucker anywhere near my sister even if she is trying to set me up.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Maybe if I hadn’t been disowned I’d be able to get an answer. Instead, I’m here—potentially being surrounded by my enemies. With no one to trust. Am I even safe? We’re out in the open. Everything is—”

“You’re safe,” I cut in. “There’s camera surveillance. And a panic room inside if necessary. I’m also tracking inbound flights from the private airport.” At least I have been since Hunter made himself known. “We’ll have enough notice to get out of here if anyone arrives.”

“And when all else fails—” Bishop finishes the last of his wine and grabs for the bottle. “—we have a reputation for a reason.”

She raises a condescending brow. “Is your butcher status meant to be comforting?” It’s yet another emotionless question. No heat. No taunt. Just words strung together by apathy.

“It should be,” he counters.

I clear my throat. Shoot him a warning glance. Shake my head slightly.

She’s been through enough today without his input.

He rolls his eyes and guzzles another glass of wine.

“Well, if there’s nothing more to discuss regarding Emmanuel, I’m going to my room.” Layla pushes back in her chair and grabs her bowl. “Is it too much to ask to be kept informed? That you’ll let me know what your surveillance team finds?” Her gaze meets mine and for a moment, a glimpse of fortitude flickers in her eyes, but it fizzles. With one blink, her confidence vanishes and she dips her attention to her hands.

“It’s not too much to ask.” I silently beg her to look at me. Talk to me. Give in to me. “Whenever you want an update, all you need to do is ask.”

Her expression flinches. “Good.” She walks away, opening the door without dramatics and closing it without a heavy slam.

I don’t like it.

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