Chapter 18 #2
“Satriano…Gabe said McDonald was an explosives expert, right?”
Gage glances down at where his hand rests on my shoulder, sliding it down until he can pull my hand into his. “Please stop. You need to relax right now, not be trying to do the police’s job.”
“The chief of police is…well, he’s worked with us before. He can get us information—”
He squeezes my hand. “Bishop…”
“Maybe he can even get us some of the physical materials to run through private labs—”
Another squeeze. “Bishop…”
My mind keeps racing. “Someone would have had to have known we’d all be there—this was a direct attack on us, and if we can actually pin this on Satriano, we have an excuse to go after him full force.”
“Bishop, stop.”
My back stiffens.
In all the time I’ve known him, Gage has never raised his voice to me. He’s never deviated from being that calm, reassuring person I’ve come to know him to be.
Until now.
* * *
GAGE
Bishop snaps her mouth closed, her gaze suddenly wary, as if she’s seeing someone she doesn’t know instead of the person she’s been sleeping with.
I didn’t mean to raise my voice like that, but she said those words so confidently—we can finally go after him full force—that I couldn’t just sit here and listen to her spiraling down the rabbit hole she has no business jumping into.
Here she is, lying in a hospital bed looking half dead, yet all she can think about is taking on a dangerous mobster. Even if she weren’t seriously hurt, I wouldn’t stand by and let her run off after him like she wants to.
It’s a suicide mission.
Despite what she likes to think, she isn’t invincible.
She has to take it easy, give her body and her head time to heal, or there could be serious repercussions. Ones I’m not about to sit back and watch her suffer from, not the way I have with others.
I snag her hand and press my lips to the back of it, waiting for her to try to tug it away, but she doesn’t.
She lets me absorb that jasmine scent from her skin that somehow calms me and releases some of the tension I’ve been holding ever since the bomb went off that’s only grown since I found her collapsed beside me on that pavement.
“You are not going to do anything, Hellcat. Those of us who are actually okay are going to do whatever we need to do to make sure the family’s safe.”
“Is that why you haven’t left?” She raises a dark brow. “Because you wanted to make sure I was safe here at the hospital?”
I don’t know how to answer her question.
If I do it honestly, it’ll terrify her, but I don’t want to lie to her, not any more than I already have. This woman has twisted me up so violently that I can’t tell what’s wrong or right anymore. Other than how I feel about her.
That somehow feels right.
Swallowing through my suddenly dry throat, I squeeze her hand. “I stayed because I literally, physically could not walk away from you.”
She sucks in a sharp breath, as if my words pained her as much as moving earlier did.
They might have.
Bishop doesn’t do well with emotion or accepting it from anyone, and I’ve done my best to temper my feelings, to wrap them up in our playful banter and try to keep things light, but today changed everything.
“From the moment I woke up and found you unconscious on the pavement, saw the burned-out husk of the car and all the shrapnel and realized what happened, the second I pulled you into my arms, the thought of letting anyone take you out of them was…” I pause, searching for the right words.
Ones that won’t scare her away. “It was just something I knew wasn’t going to happen. ”
At least not without a fight.
Bishop doesn’t respond to my confession, just sits staring at me with wide eyes that give away nothing.
She’s usually so easy to read, but not tonight.
Not when I don’t think even she knows what she’s thinking or feeling about the situation or me.
“Nora and Pope told me that you’ll probably have to be in here until sometime tomorrow at the earliest, maybe another two days before they release you, to be safe.”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head, wincing. “No. No, no, no. I have to get out of here. I have to go—”
“No, you don’t, Hellcat.” I capture her face in my palm, preventing her from further hurting herself. “You’re not in control of this, and you have to accept that.”
Her eyes fly open and meet mine, and the anger simmering there is directed at me as much as it is the situation. Hopefully, more so the latter.
“Your father and I can handle things with the rest of the security team. We’ll get it done, whatever needs to happen, while you recover.”
“So, you’re going to, what? Try to push me out?”
I shake my head. “No. Try to keep you safe from yourself. Because right now, you’re your own worst enemy. You have to be calm. A concussion is a brain injury, Bishop. Your fucking brain. This isn’t something to mess around with.”
“This happened on my watch.” Her bottom lip quivers and tears pool in her eyes.
She tries to tilt her head away, and I know it’s because she doesn’t want me to see them, doesn’t want me to know that she’s about to cry, because she sees that as a huge weakness, as something she shouldn’t show, that no one else should see. Especially me. “This is my fault.”
“No, it isn’t, Bishop.”
Not by a longshot.
If anyone bears that responsibility it’s me, but before I can continue trying to convince her to stop fighting what’s medically necessary—and me—the door opens and Pope, Nora, Saint, and Caroline enter.
Nora steps up to the bed. “Are we interrupting something?”
I shake my head and pull my hand from Bishop’s cheek, sliding back in the chair, trying to control my thundering heart that was prepared to battle her on this topic if necessary. “Nope. I was just re-emphasizing to her how important it is that she take things easy.”
Pope snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like she’s going to do that.”
Nora purses her lips and looks down at Bishop. “He’s right. I don’t have to tell you how serious a head injury is, even a concussion. No work, and I mean none, for at least two weeks. And then we’ll talk about it and reassess.”
Bishop grits her teeth and pushes up, shifting back in the bed until she’s sitting vertically against the pillows. A move that had to be painful but she’s so damn stubborn she did it anyway. “I’m not doing that, Nora. I’m not sitting out when someone just attacked us.”
Saint issues a low grumble. “You don’t have a choice. Those of us without injuries are going to take over everything. And those of you with them are going to do what the medical doctors order.”
She scowls, crossing her arms over her chest and muttering a curse under her breath when the movement pulls at her IV line. “Well, then I want a doctor who isn’t family and doesn’t have a personal reason to issue orders that aren’t necessary.”
For the love of God…
If I thought this would be any easier with the rest of the Hawkes backing me up, I was clearly wrong.
Nora gives her an exasperated look. “Not necessary? I’m happy to call down the neurologist who reviewed your MRI scan and have him explain exactly what could happen if you push yourself if I have to, but he’s currently operating on another patient.”
Bishop’s breath hitches. “Gabe?”
If it is, it happened very recently, because before I came in here, I was under the impression he was stable.
Everyone else exchanges a look that suggests I’ve definitely missed something.
Nora draws in a slow breath and then releases it. “Yes. The bleeding intensified. They had to go in.”
Bishop’s eyes dart to her parents, then back to her brother and her aunt. “Is he going to be all right?”
He has to be.
Men like Gabe Anderson can’t go out like this.
It wouldn’t be fair.
Life isn’t fair.
I don’t need a reminder of that today, or ever again.
Nora gives her a tight smile. “Dr. Bankes is one of the best neurosurgeons in the country. He’ll take care of him, but you need to take care of you. The more relaxed you are, the more you take it easy, the fewer side effects and the sooner you’ll recover, I promise.”
“You’ll come home with us.” Caroline steps forward and grabs her hand, squeezing it. “Your old room is still set up and—”
I shake my head. “No.”
Caroline glances at me with a raised brow. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
Shit.
Maybe I should have thought this through before interjecting myself into Hawke family politics, but I can’t just sit here and pretend there aren’t things happening beyond these walls that are also at play.
“She’s coming home with me.”
Bishop gapes at me. “What? Like hell I am!”
“Listen…” I push to my feet, glancing at Saint because I know he’s probably pissed, but likely also the one who will understand where I’m going with this.
“Whoever planted that bomb was, at the very least, targeting Gabe and Savage, but probably all of you, right?” No one argues otherwise. “Which means Bishop is in danger…”
Saint nods. “Agreed. We all are.”
“So, wouldn’t it be better if she recovers somewhere no one would look for her?
Where no one would expect to find her? Somewhere not connected to the Hawkes in any way, shape, or form?
” I press my hand over my chest. “That’s my place.
I’m new in town. No one knows me, and they certainly don’t know about my connection to Bishop.
I’ll take care of her. I’ll keep her safe.
I’ll do whatever intelligence work I can from there while you do the field work. ”
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.”