16
THREE DAYS LATER
GAGE
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
The uneasiness in Bishop’s voice draws my attention from the cute one-story house we stand in front of in Metairie and over to her beside me on the sidewalk.
I raise a brow. “Should I be worried?”
She tears her gaze away from the front door and settles it on me, nervous energy bubbling out of her in a way I’ve never seen before.
When she stared down Satriano, the man who has ruined the lives of everyone she cares about and continues to be the primary source of all of their problems, she was stone cold. But facing her grandmother’s house, she seems terrified.
Genuinely shaken at the thought of going in with me.
“You’ve met the family, Gage, but you haven’t seen them in action at a Sunday family dinner. Or met Nana, for that matter.”
A laugh bubbles up from my chest and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her against me so I can kiss her forehead. “I have faced far scarier and more dangerous things. I think I’ll be all right.”
She shakes her head, looking up at me with trepidation. “You greatly underestimate my grandmother.”
It’s funny to see Bishop so discombobulated over dinner with her family, and the way she talks about her grandmother makes her sound like Don Corleone.
Smirking, I lean in and kiss her softly, letting my lips linger there because I won’t be able to do this once we get inside. Bishop made it very clear that there are to be no signs of affection or hints that we’re together.
“If she’s anything like you, Hellcat, then you’re right. She’s probably a force to be reckoned with.” I raise a brow. “But I managed with you, didn’t I?”
Her lips twist into a scowl, eyes narrowing on me in that way she always does when she’s gearing up for an argument. “Managed what?”
I grin, a dozen different things I could say just to set her off flickering through my mind, but I don’t want to start a fight we can’t end the way I want to—with my cock buried inside of her again like it was an hour ago.
“I’ll tell you later…”
“Later?”
The way her cheeks flush and she shifts restlessly on her feet tells me she caught on to why we wouldn’t be having that conversation now, but I start walking up the pathway toward the house just in case she decides to push it.
Her hurried footsteps follow behind until she finally catches up with me on the small front patio.
“Do we ring the doorbell?”
She shakes her head and grabs the doorknob, twisting it and pushing the door in. “No need. We’re all family here. There is no privacy and no secrets.”
I highly doubt that.
Everyone has secrets.
Deep, dark ones that will never see the light of day. Some that are for good reason. Others that people keep from themselves and refuse to acknowledge.
Until a few days ago, Bishop was squarely in that category, refusing to face the fact that she was hurting herself by carrying so much responsibility and guilt that she shouldn’t have to alone.
But our breakthrough at the gym seems to have helped relieve some of that for her.
She isn’t an open book, but she’s definitely started to talk more about the stress of her job and constant concern over the rest of the Hawkes. That’s more than I thought I’d get even a week ago. And being invited to Sunday family dinner at Nana’s is a huge step—even if Bishop isn’t the one who extended it.
This is where it all started. Where Savage, Storm, Skye, Stone, and their sister Star, who passed away, grew up. Where Gabe became an honorary member of the family, and where, one way or another, everyone else was brought into the fold. This is where Savage and Gabe had the idea for The Hawkeye Club, where the empire was born.
