Page 167 of Bad Bishop

It was the best-kept secret of the underworld that my father was down for the count his entire career, battling depression. I took over his work when I was fifteen and never looked back. It was as though he’d waited for Tierney and me to come along so he could finally collapse into the breakdown he had when Mam was murdered. I remembered not understanding him one bit. His despair, and inability to move on, push forward, rejoin society.

Now it was crystal clear to me, though.

I, too, couldn’t think of myself without Lila.

That he made it so far without killing himself was a heroic act in itself.

“So what’re you going to do?” Fintan turned to face me. “Now that Angelo provided a sufficient alibi.”

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t forthcoming with my siblings. I didn’t tell them the truth. I just told him what I wanted the world to think. I couldn’t trust anybody anymore. “I’m going to send her off to meet him, if he ever contacts her again. And then I’m going to give him what he wants and make sure he pisses off. If it’s money he wants, he is welcome to it.”

Fintan nodded. “Can’t say I blame ya.”

Tierney stared at me in disbelief. “What if he harms her?”

“Why would he?” I asked. “He had eight months to do it. He got as far as our apartment. Could’ve finished her off while she was under him, if he wanted.”

They both gave me disturbed looks.

I rapped my knuckles on the table. “Another round?”

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

TIERNAN

Three days later, Lila’s attacker came forth.

I had a feeling he was biding his time, watching us, trying to see how the Angelo Bandini angle was going to unfold. Now that Angelo was out and about, walking on his two useless feet—albeit missing a couple fingers—it was obvious we crossed him off the list of suspects.

And even though the other, unchecked candidates were extremely unlikely, I wasn’t going to rule any of them out.

“This time he sent me a message straight to my phone.” Lila handed me said phone. “I wonder why?”

The message read:

If you want to stay alive, meet me tonight at 11pm at Fort Market port. Come alone. Shake off your husband/security detail. Bring 150K in cash.

The reason as to the why was simple. He could no longer risk slipping mail into the building without going unnoticed. The place was more secured than the White House now.

I grabbed the phone number and sent it for Sam to analyze, even though I knew the fucker 100 percent used a burner.

“Confirm you’ll be there.” I handed her back the phone. “I’ll go see him myself.”

Her head shot up and she glared at me. “I’m coming, too.”

“You’re not.”

“Tiernan, I want to confront the man who did this to me.”

“Why?” I asked coldly. “Are you expecting any insightful input as to why he brutally raped you? Because you won’t find a plausible excuse.”

“I want him to hurt—”

“Hewillhurt,” I promised. “I will make it slow, and gory, and unbearable. He will regret the day he was born.”

“I need this for closure.” She glared at me.

“You’re not coming, and that’s that.” I slipped into my peacoat. I had 150K to liquidate in a few hours. Hardly a fucking problem for me, but a big hurdle for a sheltered teenager like Lila. This whole operation felt botched. Amateur. This wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Stupid people made the most dangerous enemies. They couldn’t tell a terrible idea if it hit them in the face with a shovel.