Gage narrows his eyes on me, concern he has no right to feel flickering across them. “Bishop, why the hell would you do that when you know you’re at risk, when you know you’re a potential target?”
“Seems the only one who was targeting me was you.”
“Fuck.” He scrubs his hands over his face and shoves them back through his hair, shifting restlessly in his boots. “I deserve that. But you don’t.” He shakes his head. “You didn’t deserve any of this. And I know you don’t want to hear what I have to say?—”
“Why the hell would I?” I slam my fist into the bag again, sending it rocking back. “It’s all been lies from day fucking one. Why would I want to hear a single word from your lying mouth?”
God, that mouth…
It said too much.
Brought me too much pleasure.
And I can’t look away from it or the tiny frown he wears when he’s usually so quick with a smile.
Stop.
That Gage doesn’t exist.
This one is the liar.
His hands twitch at his sides like he’s fighting the desire to reach for me, but if this man has any self-preservation instinct, he should know better than to try. “It wasn’t all a lie, Bishop. It wasn’t.”
There it is again.
That deep, believable sincerity in his words that I fell for, hook, line, and sinker, that he was probably trained to use to get people like me to fall for his bullshit.
I should have known better. I should have seen through him. I should have listened to my gut and stayed far away from Gage Newhart.
He shakes his head, holding his hands out, palms up, as if he’s offering himself to me and praying I’ll accept what I can never give him. “Getting involved with you was never part of the plan.”
Another mirthless laugh that borders on hysterical falls from my lips, but it beats the alternative—bursting into tears in front of him. “Bullshit! You came at me from day one. You came straight for me and didn’t back off until you had me wrapped around your fucking finger.”
He takes a step toward me, but I hold up a single finger in warning.
“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.”
If he comes any closer, I can’t be held accountable for what I might do.
I don’t trust myself where this man is concerned, or maybe about anything ever again.
Gage sucks in a sharp breath. “The plan was always to watch the Hawkes, to search for confirmation of where you stood when it came to Satriano. I had always intended to try to get inside.” He shakes his head. “But not with you. I was supposed to approach Gabe. Use the Ranger angle to gain his trust. It was supposed to be that simple, but then you happened.”
I squeeze my eyes closed, unable to look in his warm blue eyes when he tells me more of these lies or I’ll risk drowning in them.
“I watched you through a camera lens from afar for months, and I saw how dedicated you were to your family, to keeping them safe. I saw what kind of person you were. And then that night, I went to the club to lay the groundwork and set the approach for Gabe. And I saw you in person for the first time…”
Memories of that night and seeing him at the bar for the first time flicker through my head.
That leather jacket.
The sandy-blond hair.
The way he carried himself that raised goosebumps over every inch of my body.
“And then we met, and it was like I was struck by fucking lightning.”
I wince this time.
