Page 71

Bishop

Deacon dropping the drunk act was the signal for both me and Rook to move. Rook blocked the door from closing, and I followed Deacon inside.

Deacon stepped to the side, leaving Chester in my direct path. I didn’t even pause. My hand lifted and wrapped around his throat. I kept moving forward, shoving him along in front of me.

His fingers clawed at my wrist, trying to make me release him. I ignored his struggles until his back slammed against the wall. And I still kept moving until we were so close, I could see the pores in the skin covering his pasty white face.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t come for her?” I squeezed, cutting off his airflow. “In what scenario, did you ever see yourself coming out on top and taking her back to New York with you?”

He whispered something. I leaned closer.

“I wasn’t going to take her back with me.” His lips curved into a twisted sneer. “I’d have dumped her body somewhere along the way covered in your DNA because the stupid bitch refused to wash you off her skin, and then made an anonymous tip-off.”

I buried my fist in his stomach. When he doubled over, I released my grip on his throat and brought my knee up and rammed his face into it. He dropped to the floor, on his hands and knees, one palm cupped over his nose. I studied him for a second, then swung my foot into his ribs, and sent him onto his side.

Dismissing him from my attention, I turned scanning the room and came to a stop on the redhead standing at the far side of the room beside Deacon. Our eyes met and locked.

“Everyone, get out.” I didn’t recognize the sound of my own voice. It was low, rough, angry . “Take that lowlife with you.”

“Bishop.” That was Rook. I didn’t look at him.

“Get. Out.”

He sighed. “We’ll be waiting outside.”

Deacon patted my shoulder on his way past. I didn’t move, didn’t shift my gaze from Eden’s. Somewhere behind me there was a grunt, followed by a thud and then the door clicked shut. Less than a second later, I staggered back when Eden crashed into me.

My arms circled her waist automatically and I lowered my head. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head against my chest, fingers clutching my shirt.

I untangled one arm and pressed two fingers under her chin to tip her head back. “Look at me.”

She blinked, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. No, I kept him talking. I thought if I just kept him talking, you’d find me.”

My thumb brushed over her lips. “There’s a detective outside waiting to arrest Dulvaney. They’re making a case against him for several—” I broke off. She didn’t need to hear how she might have been trapped for the last couple of hours with a murderer and rapist. “We need to go to the station so you can make a statement. Are you feeling up to that?”

She nodded.

I tightened my hold on her waist. “Eden—”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am now.”

I lowered my head but didn’t kiss her. The knowledge that I wanted to kiss her made me pause, hesitate, and instead I brushed my lips over her forehead, then guided her to the door.

Outside the motel room, Deacon and Rook were handing Dulvaney over to Detective Flannigan. As the detective turned to open the back passenger door of his car, Dulvaney lunged forward, grabbed the gun from the detective’s hip holster and spun, lifting it.

Someone shouted.

Shots rang out.

Multiple shots.

In quick succession.

Dulvaney laughed, then frowned, and looked down to where a red stain spread out across the front of his shirt.

“Rook?” I turned toward my brother where he stood next to his car.

“Wasn’t me.”

I looked to my left. Eden stood there, a gun clutched between both hands and still pointing at Dulvaney.

“Eden?” I reached out slowly and took the gun— my gun, the one that I’d hidden in the jacket she was wearing—from her unresisting fingers. “Did you have that with you the entire time?”

Her head turned, green eyes huge in her pale face. “It was in my jacket,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize until I took off my rings and hid them in a pocket. I didn’t want to let him know I had it. I was scared he’d take it from me.” Her eyes jerked back to the man lying face down on the ground.

I caught her jaw between my fingers and brought her face back to me. “Don’t look over there. Look at me.”

“Is he—”

“Bishop,” Detective Flannigan cut in. “We’re going to need to take her to the station.”

“Later.”

“I’ve called it in.”

“You witnessed what happened. I’ll bring her later. Once she’s had a chance to rest. She’s been through enough.”

“Bishop—”

“I said later.”

I walked Eden past him, careful to keep my body between her and Dulvaney, and got her settled into the back of Rook’s car. Deacon took the front passenger seat, and Rook climbed into the driver’s side.

Flannigan didn’t stop us as we drove out of the parking lot.