And I’m not sure anyone else does, either.
BISHOP
Everyone begins to disperse from the meeting, Coen’s question still unanswered and undoubtedly lingering in the head of every single one of us, but we weren’t going to come to any conclusions when everyone was so worked up.
A cooling-off period was needed.
By all.
Even me.
I stay rooted in my position near the door, watching each and every one of them file out until the only ones left in Savage’s office are Gage and me.
He didn’t say a word the entire time. Not that I really expected him to. He’s new to all this. To all the drama, lies, and veiled threats that come with a man like Satriano.
His job right now is to take it all in, to assess, to back us up when needed, but until then, he knows his place. While I appreciated his attempt to help with Coen when he went off the deep end, I’m glad he didn’t intervene.
It only would have made things worse for my cousin, who has every right to be scared for Allegra and their child.
Because God knows I am…
Gage’s gaze stays locked on me while I stare out the window, watching the trees sway in the light breeze, the bright sunlight such a cheery taunt when inside here, in this room, everything feels so dark and murky.
A few moments of absolute silence pass before he finally takes the first step and approaches me.
He dips his head, inserting himself into my line of vision, forcing me to look at him. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
Sweeping a hand out to the empty room, he offers a half-smile. “Like everyone else, away from here. You need a break and some sleep.”
Gage’s idea of a “break” and “sleep” aren’t anything most people would consider relaxing or restful.
I narrow my gaze on him. “I’m not in the mood.”
He chuckles. “Not that I would say no, but that wasn’t what I had in mind.” His fingers slide under my chin, tilting my face up. “Let’s go get some lunch like everyone else. Some food might make you feel better. As would a nap. You didn’t sleep at all last night.”
I don’t want to eat.
I don’t want to sleep.
I want to track down Satriano and confront him in person. Demand he tell us why he’s in town, why one of his men was shot, and who the fuck might’ve been lurking around our building. I want to force him to come clean about Michael McDonald and any other “complications” that may be arising because of him, even if it means putting my gun to his temple to accomplish it.
But one thing Satriano is very good at is hiding.
His movements…
His plans…
All seem to remain in the shadows despite everything we do to shed light on it. The man is basically a ghost. Appearing whenever it suits him to haunt us with traumatic memories of what he’s done in the past. Taunting us with the power he holds because he knows damn well we can’t act against him without bringing down the wrath of his entire network.
So, I don’t want to go sit and eat, or lie in bed with Gage and pretend none of this is happening…
I can’t.
That swirling storm of anger and uncertainty that threatened to suffocate me before Gage came into my life starts to swamp the edges of my vision, but he holds my chin steady, forcing me to keep looking into his eyes that remain so warm, so calm, so damn inviting.
He doesn’t look away or let me, because he knows.
