It sounded better in my head than it did coming out, and now I have a whole handful of her family watching me with renewed interest.
Saint stares me down, his arms crossed over his barrel chest, and I can see why he was such a good lineman when he played ball. He’s big, he’s intimidating, like a wall no one will get through.
I just pray my argument got through to him.
Bishop keeps shaking her head. “No. No. Absolutely not. I’m going home, to my place. Thank you for the offer, Mom”—she squeezes her hand, then releases it—“but I’m not going anywhere but my own bed.”
She says it with so much finality that, for a moment, I think everyone might have been swayed.
Saint shakes his head. “No, you’re not. You’re going to his.”
“Excuse me?”
“Gage is right.” He locks his hard gaze with mine. “Security is going to have to be tight on everyone after this. No one’s going to leave their residences unless they absolutely have to. And it’s one less place to have to cover if you’re with him. He can do work reaching out to our contacts from his place while I run down anything I need to in person, along with the rest of our crew.”
“You can’t be serious, Dad.”
Pope snorts again. “I love it when you two fight, but I’m going to actually stay out of this argument.”
Caroline rolls her eyes. “That’s a first.”
Nora offers me a knowing grin. “I like the idea.” She looks to Bishop. “Mostly because I know he’s not going to let you do anything that you shouldn’t be doing.”
Bishop looks more and more pissed the longer everyone stares her down, until she finally throws up her hands. “So, I don’t have any say in this?”
Saint shakes his head. “No. You don’t. As soon as you’re discharged, you’re going home with Gage.”
19
TWO DAYS LATER
GAGE
By the time we pull into the driveway of my place, the twenty minute silent treatment Bishop has given me without even acknowledging my presence has ticked by so slowly that it feels more like twenty hours.
I didn’t know time could move that slowly, or that silence could scream in my ears so fucking loudly.
There wasn’t any point in trying to engage her in conversation, not when she’s been acting like this since the moment everyone agreed the safest place for her was with me.
Two fucking days ago.
Of course, at the hospital, I had the rest of the Hawkes around to engage with and to help keep the silence at bay. We had plenty to discuss, from the initial findings from the police regarding the explosion, to Gabe’s recovery, and the new security protocols that involve every vehicle, business, and residence being swept with the same bomb-sniffing dogs they used for the second tower opening before anyone goes near them.
I’ve stayed busy while Bishop has only spoken with the girls, cutting out anyone she sees as involved in the conspiracy to keep her locked up.
But now that we’re truly alone, the quiet is downright stifling.
She can’t hold out forever.
That’s what I keep telling myself. At some point, she has to break. It might be a tirade and verbal attack worse than the physical one she threw at me in the ring the last time we shared it, but it would be better than this.
Anything would be.
I put the car in park and turn off the engine, but Bishop doesn’t budge from the passenger seat. With her arms crossed over her chest, she looks absolutely ticked off and ready to attempt an escape at any moment.
“So, this is how you want to play it?” I can’t even get her to look at me anymore, but that doesn’t mean she won’t have to listen. “I know you’re pissed, Bishop. I know you want to go home. I know you want to go back to work. But we all agreed this is the safest place for you.”
Finally, her head slowly turns toward me, her eyes narrowing in a way I am smart enough to recognize is dangerous. “You all agreed being the key takeaway there. I didn’t agree.”
