Page 58 of Bad Bishop

Of coursehedidn’t care. I had no illusions about that.

…so why did I feel a pang of disappointment nicking the spot just beneath my breastbone?

“Take the mask off, Lila. I know you can read. I know you surf the internet. I know you can write, and stitch together a wounded motherfucker, and probably split atoms. You’re coming with or without the confession. Be a smart girl and take the deal.”

I stood up and stomped my way to my room, where I changed into something hideously pink to piss him off. We left the house with a flock of guards split into two vehicles. My husband was on a phone call the entire way.

The Mercedes stopped in front of a preppy Manhattan building. Tiernan got out first, followed by two of his soldiers, before he gestured for me to follow. The second set of guards trailed behind us.

We broke off from security when we entered the elevator in the sleek lobby. By now, I was so nauseous I was surprised I didn’t vomit my heart onto the floor. My palms were clammy, and my limbs felt like overcooked noodles.

My stomach was still flat, and the morning sickness was now almost completely gone, so I allowed myself to pretend I wasn’t pregnant most days. Now someone was going to touch me. Showme the baby. The child of my rapist. Make me face the reality I’d been ignoring for three months.

I was barely eighteen. I’d never even had a proper kiss. The kiss during the wedding ceremony didn’t count. And I knew nothing about babies.

When we got to the reception, my panic flared into sheer terror.

“Dr. Driscoll is unfortunately indisposed.” A flirty receptionist batted her fake lashes at my husband. She looked like one of my brothers’ mistresses. Big hair, boobs, and a small brain to match. “But her husband, Dr. Maguire, stepped in to cover her appointments for the rest of the afternoon.”

Amanwas going to touch me?

Amanwas going to put his hands on my most private parts?

Jerkily, I looped my fingers around Tiernan’s forearm, digging my nails into his hard muscles.

“That won’t do,” Tiernan said calmly, dismissively. “I specifically requested a female doctor.”

He did?

“Totally, yeah, I understand.” The bubbly receptionist flipped her hair with a smile. “And Dr. Driscoll will take over moving forward. It’s just this specific appointment—”

She stopped. Tiernan didn’t even say anything. His stony glare told her it was nonnegotiable. What was his voice like? Raspy, I’d imagined. Rough around the edges, just like the man himself.

“I see you’re not happy,” she said.

A thin, humorless smile. “Smart girl.”

The receptionist swallowed. “Let me see if Dr. Lockerby is available…”

“Is Dr. Lockerby a woman?”

“Hmm, yes. Her name is Meredith.”

“You do that, while I help my wife settle in the examining room. Remember—if she’s uncomfortable, I’m uncomfortable. And if I’m uncomfortable…” He trailed off, casually leaning a shoulder against the wall and exposing the gun in the holster beneath his tailored peacoat. “Everyone getsrealuncomfortable.”

We huddled down the corridor and slipped into room number seven. A faded blue hospital gown waited on the edge of the examination table, folded neatly into a square.

I turned to Tiernan to tell him to look the other way and caught the sight of the door clicking shut. He left, the scent of expensive leather and musk lingering in the air like the swollen pulse of a kiss.

It was the first time I was alone somewhere new since the assault.

Was he coming back?

Was I going to face the doctor alone?

My anxiety won over. I picked up my phone and texted Mama. It was the first time I had initiated a conversation with her since she came back from Chicago.

Lila: Why didn’t you come to my OB-GYN appointment?