Page 180 of Bad Bishop

I heard the crunch of gravel beneath my office window, signaling that a car was approaching. I glanced out the window. A catering truck parked across the street, so as not to block the way to the other vehicles.

“What’s that?” Enzo stuck his head next to mine, looking down.

“She missed prosciutto during the pregnancy.”

“Let me guess, so you bought an entire drove of pigs?”

I wondered how mad she’d be if I relieved her brother of a few of his organs.

“No.” I glowered at the idiot. “But I did order seventeen different types from Parma to make sure she has variety.”

“Man, you’re so whipped all you need is a cherry on your head.”

“Keep running your mouth and the roomwillturn red,” I warned.

Enzo snorted. “Stop seducing me, bro. I’m into chicks.”

The lies people told themselves were too much sometimes. Not that I gave enough shit to put a mirror in his face.

“Tiernan.” My mother-in-law pushed the door open without knocking, out of breath. “She’s asking for you.” Her gaze flicked to her son. “Sfacciato! Put that cigarette down before I burn a hole through your forehead.”

“What cigarette, Mama?” he asked with smoke skulking out of his mouth, tossing the thing out the window and smiling angelically.

I sauntered to the next room, finding Lila sulking on a big bed in a very small babydoll dress and no underwear. She was covered in sweat head to toe and looked exhausted. Her water broke almost two hours ago. The first hour, she was her sweet, perky self. The last thirty minutes, though, I had to clear all the sharp objects from our bedroom.

“Gealach,” I greeted. “Did you change your mind about me being here?”

She had asked me to evacuate her bedside until the baby was out. Not because she felt uncomfortable with me witnessing the birth. Apparently, threatening the medical staff and trying to blackmail the baby while still in the womb to make his exit quickly and painlessly was considered “unbecoming,” or, as Imma put it,screanzato.Unhinged.

“No,” Lila signed. “I still don’t think you have the stomach for it.”

Ridiculous. I had killed hundreds of people with my bare hands.

“What’s the issue, then?”

“I need you to get rid of Mama and Imma.”

I stared at her like she asked me to carve Wyoming out of the map and drag it into the Black Sea.

“Are they bothering you?”

“My mother already panic-vomited twice, and Imma bursts into tears every time I have a contraction. The woman is a nurse. They’ve both completely lost it.”

“You are loved, darlin’.” I leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“Love is overrated.” She swatted me away. “Get rid of them.”

“I’ll have them go down to the living room until this is over.”

“No.” Lila shook her head adamantly. “I don’t want them in this zip code, Tiernan.”

I shot her a flat stare. “I’m a murderer, not a magician. I only know one way to extract people by force.”

A contraction shuddered Lila’s entire body, making her arch and spit out a string of words in Italian I was sure wasn’t a love poem. In the hall beyond the closed door, I heard Imma breaking down in a sob. Chiara moaned like she was delivering the child.

“FIND A WAY,” my wife signed.

I scurried my ass out before she made herself a widower and kicked the two women out.