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The single word burned my throat like glass, and I could practically feel the force of his concern through the phone.
“Where are you?”
I gave him the nearest cross street, and as soon as I finished, he spoke again.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Then pull over. Stay where you are. I’m out on an errand for Nathaniel, but I’ll do it later. I’ll be there in five.”
I didn’t bother to protest. I knew nothing I said would compel him to put his work above me, and the honest truth was, I needed to see him. My soul craved it, and my wrecked heart begged for it.
After pulling over onto a quiet side street, I waited, counting down the minutes. It only took four for Bishop to arrive. His car screeched around the corner and pulled to a stop beside mine, and he jerked his head, gesturing for me to get in.
I was already moving, gathering up my purse and shoving my door open. The second I slid into the passenger seat of his beat-up convertible, he gunned the engine again and took off down the street.
His entire body seemed tense, and I wasn’t quite sure where he was taking us, but now that I was in his presence, I really didn’t care where we went. He didn’t press me to talk, just reached over and threaded his fingers through mine. A few minutes later, we pulled up to a spot near the water in a quiet, abandoned part of the city.
He shut the engine off and turned to face me in the gathering dusk. I wasn’t quite sure why he hadn’t just taken me back to his place, but I had a feeling it was because his foster parents were home for once.
“What happened, Cora?” he asked, his expression serious.
In a halting voice, I told him everything. As I spoke, I watched his expression shift, and a part of me wished I had never said anything.
But that wasn’t who we were. That wasn’t how our relationship functioned. I had learned that lesson after lying to him and the other Lost Boys about my search to find answers about my dad’s setup and arrest. We were stronger as a team, and that team only worked when we were honest with each other.
When I finally finished speaking, the sun was all the way down, and light from the city behind us glistened on the water.
“I was wrong,” I said quietly. “About all of it. And you were right. My father—he doesn’t deserve to be free.”
My gaze was fixed out the front windshield, and I wait for Bishop’s words to come. For him to tell me I should’ve listened, or to blame me for freeing the man who had destroyed his family.
Tears leaked from my eyes and spilled down my cheeks, dropping from my chin. Everything Bishop might say to me, I had already said to myself a dozen times by now. And none of it was wrong.
But he didn’t speak at all. Instead, his fingers came to rest under my chin, and he turned my face toward him. Then he pressed his lips to mine in the gentlest kiss he’d ever given me.
I didn’t know how he knew that was exactly what I needed. Hell, I hadn’t even known. But as his lips pressed tenderly to mine, some broken part of my heart seemed to heal over.
These past few months had been a fast and furious lesson in the harshness of the world and the horrible things people were capable of. I had tried to keep hope and optimism alive, but the conversation I’d had with my father today had broken something inside me.
And Bishop healed it.
With one sweet, soft kiss, he reminded me that I was loved. That there were people in this world who saw me for me and not just what they could take from me. How they could use me.
I fell into his kiss like it was the vast ocean before us, the entire world seeming to dissolve around me until nothing else existed but the press of his lips against mine, his calloused hand cupping my cheek, and the shared breath between us.
When he finally pulled away, it felt like he took a piece of my soul with him. But I didn’t miss it at all, because he had left a piece of his with me.
His eyes bounced between mine, our faces still so close together our noses nearly brushed as he gazed at me.
“Coralee. I love you.”
I felt the warmth of his breath against my skin as he spoke, and my heart thudded hard and heavy against my ribs, every beat seeming to reverberate through my body.
The tears that had been falling before fell harder, pushed from my eyes by an overload of emotion that threatened to drown me.
“I love you too, Bishop,” I choked out. “So much it hurts.”
