Page 24 of Stolen Salvation

“At least he was sober.”

Bishop spun back around. “Charl, you can’t rate people’s treatment of you based on the fact your mother was an alcoholic and might have been worse. He left you with her and that’s worse. She was ill. He was just a rich asshole who didn’t want his life disturbed by a child.”

“Wow, don’t pull your punches, Noah.”

Bishop plated up, angrily slamming the pan down before brandishing a wedge of parmesan like a weapon at her. “Cheese?”

“Yes.”

They were back to angry again and he hated it. Eating in silence, he watched her push her food around the plate before taking a few bites, then pushing it away.

“Listen, maybe we should talk about the elephant in the room first.”

He hadn’t expected her to bring it up, but she was right. If they were going to do this, they needed to get whatever was still smarting like a splinter under a fingernail out in the open.

“Okay.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why did you shoot me and leave me for dead?”

“I had no choice.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “Of course you’d say that. But we both know that’s bullshit. I get you wanted to maintain your cover, but we had what we needed to take Armand Vernier down.”

“No, we didn’t. A few bribes here and there and the evidence would’ve disappeared, and you know it.”

“Then we would’ve gone back and tried again.”

“Noah, if I hadn’t shot you he would have. He had a sniper pointed right at you.”

“I know and I get that but why leave with him? I was dying and you walked away as if I meant nothing to you.”

“Come on, Noah, you know that isn’t true.”

“Isn’t it? You didn’t seem to have any trouble doing it. You skipped off happily to handle your case and left me to it. I bet you were gutted when I lived and you had to actually divorce me.”

Charlie threw her hands in the air. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m impossible? You’re the definition of impossible. One minute you couldn’t get enough of me, the next you were shutting me out. Acting as if I was to blame for everything.”

“That’s not fair. I never blamed you.”

The conversation had de-escalated fast from the shooting to what he knew was the real issue. “You blamed me for not being there when you went into labour.”

“No, you blamed yourself for that.”

Noah strode toward her, stopping just shy of touching her. “Liar.”

Charlie was breathing fast as her hand came up and the slap he’d been expecting stung across his face. “Bastard.”

“Shrew.”

“I hate you.”

“I fucking hate you, too.”

Then she was in his arms, and he was kissing her. It was hungry and punishing, the emotions too close to the surface to be anything less than explosive.

He backed her up to the wall, knowing as he did it was a mistake. But try as he might, he couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

Her hands tore at his buckle as he stepped back to rip his shirt over his head and toss it to the side. Her eyes were wild with lust and heat as she shrugged out of her shirt and tossed it behind him. Her hands grabbed for him, and he lifted her in his arms, his hands under her ass, as he kissed her with a punishing brutality that was almost healing.