He doesn’t answer right away. Just stares at his phone like it’s a bomb about to explode. I can’t tell if waiting for him to speak is worse, or finding out what that text message says.
When he finally speaks, his voice is carefully neutral.
“We need to go.”
“Go where?”
“My father wants to see us.” He stands, pulling me up with him. “Now.”
The blood drains from my face. He’s summoning us like subjects before a king. And that usually didn’t end well for the subjects.
“What does he want?” My small voice comes out terrified.
Calder’s jaw tightens. “I don’t know. But when Roman Bishop summons you, you don’t keep him waiting. We have to head to the main house.”
He starts guiding me through the crowd, moving fast enough that I have to half-jog to keep up. People stare as we pass, but I don’t care anymore. All I care about is the text message Calder received, the one that made all the color drain from his face.
All I care about is the fact that Roman Bishop wants to see us.
And nothing good ever comes from that.
Calder
The driveto the main house feels like driving toward an execution.
Saint sits rigid in the passenger seat, the whiskey Levi fed her wearing off fast, replaced by the sharp edge of fear. I can see it in the way her hands twist in the fabric of that fucking sundress, in the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she tries to control her breathing.
“Calder.” Her voice cracks on my name. “What’s he going to do?”
“I don’t know.” The lie comes swiftly. Because I do know. Or at least I can guess. Roman doesn’t summon people to the main house unless he’s planning something. Unless he wants an audience for whatever lesson he’s about to teach.
“Will he hurt me?”
I want to lie again, to tell her everything is going to be fine, but lying to her won’t protect her. It’s going to make her ill-prepared, and she deserves to know what she’s walking into.
“He might.” I keep my eyes on the road, on the familiar turn that leads from town toward the Bishop ranch. “But I won’t lethim kill you. You’re mine now, and even he needs to understand that.”
She makes a sound that might be a laugh or a sob. “That’s not very comforting.”
“It’s not meant to be. It’s just the truth.”
The main house looms ahead, a sprawling structure of log and stone that’s been in the Bishop family for four generations. But I know what happens inside those walls. Know the kind of lessons Roman teaches behind closed doors.
I park beside Sawyer’s sleek SUV. Kade’s mud-splattered truck is already here too. And Levi’s Jeep. All the brothers have been summoned like I was. Whatever Roman has planned, he wants the whole family to witness it.
That’s never a good sign.
“Stay close to me,” I tell Saint as I kill the engine. “Don’t speak unless he asks you a direct question. And whatever happens, don’t cry. Tears make him worse.”
She nods, face pale, and lets me help her out of the truck. Her hand in mine is ice cold despite the heat I kept pumped in the truck.
I face her and tilt her chin up. “It’ll be okay.” Then I kiss her gently, softly, sweetly, until she melts a little against me. Perfect. She’s so fucking perfect.
I lace our fingers together, keeping her anchored to my side as we walk up the stone path to the front door.
It opens before we reach it.
Sawyer stands in the doorway, laptop under one arm, expression carefully neutral. But I can read the warning in his eyes. Whatever’s waiting inside, it’s bad.
