Not if I wanted to protect them and have any chance of salvaging my relationship with Bishop.
She may not ever understand.
How could she?
She may not ever forgive me.
I don’t deserve it.
That doesn’t mean I won’t try.
The thought of losing her and what we had makes me physically ill, and I’ve had to stop myself from obsessing about it too much or I might have vomited all over their beautiful furniture and floor over the past several hours.
Now, I have nothing left to distract me from it.
As Saint walks me to the penthouse door, the stern set of his jaw hasn’t changed, and anger still radiates off him in waves that threaten to knock me the fuck over.
He’s pissed about what I’ve done.
Rightfully so.
He’s angry for his daughter.
As a father, he has every right to be.
But it’s Caroline I’m actually afraid of.
She has sat back stoically, letting Saint, Isaac, Cass, and Kennedy control the questioning. Her gaze didn’t leave me the entire time, and she absorbed every word I said with the intense attention to details that must have served her well when she was still working as a reporter.
I have no doubt she will help ensure Savage, Gabe, and everyone else who wasn’t here tonight gets a full rundown so the entire family is up to speed by the time the sun comes up tomorrow.
Right now, though, her laser-like focus is zeroed in on me, and it’s clear she has something to say that she’s been sitting on for hours.
She pushes past her husband, placing a hand on his chest. “I’ll walk him to the elevator. I need to talk to Gage alone.”
Saint offers her a warning look, but she merely waves that hand at him dismissively, as if he couldn’t stop her even if he tried. Something tells me he probably couldn’t despite their massive disparity in size.
I step out into the hallway and she follows, letting the door close behind her, leaving us alone in the tomb-silent space.
Bishop is long gone.
Where’d you go, Hellcat?
Caroline walks to the elevator with me, her lips pressed together in a way that’s so similar to how Bishop does it that it’s abundantly clear she’s just as much her mother’s daughter as her father’s. This woman has quiet strength while Bishop’s is regularly on display for the world to see, but the same fire burns inside her, the same fierce loyalty and drive to protect her family.
And right now, that means her daughter.
I scrub my hands over my face, waiting for the elevator cab to come up, and she leans against the wall, watching me.
“Tell me what happened with Bishop.”
I slowly let my gaze drift over to hers. “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have…”
Wanted her.
Flirted with her.
Pursued her.
