And what just went down was clearly a threat.
Under all the niceties and forced smiles—from everyone except Kennedy and Bishop—it was one of the most tense standoffs I’ve ever been a part of. And that’s saying a lot considering the ones I’ve had in my career.
Bishop’s fists tighten at her sides, her dark eyes carrying so many different emotions: hatred, annoyance, and a spark of something else I saw that night in the park that she doesn’t want to admit.
Fear.
“Are you in danger?”
She releases a huffed little laugh that carries no humor in it. “We’re always in danger, Gage. That’s the whole fucking point.”
“The point of what?”
“My job.” She throws up her hands. “Which you keep pointing out I spend too much time obsessing over. But that”—she points to the front door—“is why I have to do my job twenty-four-seven, because at any minute, a threat could just waltz through the fucking door.”
“Why didn’t you shoot him?”
She recoils slightly. “Are you fucking nuts? This is Angelina’s business. And her boyfriend has one right across the street. It’s already been blown up and shot to hell. I’m not going to pull my gun in here and shoot that man just because I want to and he deserves it. It would bring a whole hell of a lot worse down on us.”
Worse.
Bishop is already walking the razor’s edge of burnout trying to protect her family.
The idea of worse makes me want to sweep in and take her away somewhere that she can’t be touched by any of it ever again. Where she never has to look over her shoulder or worry about protecting so many backs.
I watch the Hawke women cluster together at the counter with Angelina, whispering and glancing toward us and the street. The undercurrent of anxiety rolls off them as customers slowly file out, leaving the once-lively and happy place as quiet as a tomb.
It isn’t my place to intervene.
But I also can’t just walk away after witnessing that.
How the hell could I?
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I release a sigh. “So, what are you going to do?”
Bishop crosses her arms over her chest. “What do you mean?”
“I mean now.”
For a moment, it doesn’t look like she’s going to answer me, but she finally relaxes slightly and nods toward the girls. “Going to go meet with the rest of the family and figure out what the fuck to do next.”
“And push me away.”
Her brow furrows. “What?”
“You’re going to push me away even more now, right? Because you don’t want me involved in whatever the hell that was. You’re going to use it as an excuse to keep me at arm’s length like you were already doing because you were fucking scared.”
She opens and closes her mouth a few times, gaping at me, and maybe it isn’t the time or place to push her on this, but I can see the truth in her eyes even as she tries to lie through her teeth.
“I’m not pushing you away.”
“Bullshit.” I raise a brow. “You literally ran the other night.”
She squeezes her eyes closed for a second and shakes her head. “I don’t have time to have this argument with you right now.”
When she reopens her eyes, they hold renewed determination and she pushes at my chest to move me out of the way. Of course, I could stand my ground and challenge her further, refuse to budge an inch the same way she is, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere. Certainly not where I want to be with her.
I allow her to push me back a few steps, giving her space to move around the table and over to her family. She whispers something to them, and Angelina locks the front door, staring out across the street toward the book shop.
