Beneath These Shadows

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Beneath These Shadows Page 27

by Meghan March


  We were almost to cruising altitude when the bathroom door at the back of the jet opened, and every head swung in that direction.

  “What the fuck?” Bishop said.

  Con reached for his gun. “How the hell—”

  My father stood in front of the bathroom door as though this were any normal flight for him.

  “How did you . . . I don’t understand . . .”

  “It appears you and I have a lot to catch up on, and I couldn’t very well do that from Costa Rica. Now, I believe some proper introductions are in order.” He looked at Bishop. “I’m Dominic Casso, and I want to know why exactly my daughter is sitting in your lap.”

  I STOOD ON THE TARMAC and watched my father fly away. Apparently, his jet had tailed us all the way from Teterboro, ready to pick him up and take him to some undisclosed location.

  Bishop stood beside me, quiet since we’d deplaned. Everything had come out in that long flight back.

  How Vincent had been responsible for giving the orders to kill Bishop’s uncle, and had put the word out that Bishop would be hunted until he paid back double what he’d won counting cards. Dom hadn’t had a clue.

  Bishop had wanted my father dead for ten years, for a reason that was no longer valid. I felt the anger drain out of Bishop as my father explained the inner workings of his organization and that he wouldn’t have been bothered with the details of something like that.

  Ignorance was no excuse, but Bishop had a choice—continue to hold the grudge, or let it go.

  He’d made his choice, and that choice was me.

  “You two ready?” This came from Con, who held open the back door of Lord’s Hemi ’Cuda.

  Was I ready? Ready to start over with this new life and not worry about it being snatched away from me at any second?

  Yes.

  Ready to be with Bishop and not keep any more secrets?

  Yes.

  But was he?

  He’d shown up in New York, walking into the belly of the beast to face what he’d run from for ten years—all because he loved me. And then he’d sat in front of my father and told him that he wouldn’t be content in this life until he made me as happy as I’d made him. That the only thing he wanted was to watch me fly, so long as he could soar beside me. His words had given me hope like nothing else possibly could.

  I thought it was safe to say he was ready.

  We slid into the backseat of Lord’s awesomely cool car, and Con took the front.

  “We’re going to pretend none of this ever happened, right? You’re not going to make me tell Vanessa? She’ll be pissed she didn’t get to go.”

  I wondered if he was crazy. “What did you tell her you were doing?” I asked.

  “Helping a friend.”

  “Then I guess it depends on how many questions she’s going to ask when you get home carrying a duffel bag of guns.”

  Con shrugged. “I’ll leave those in the trunk. Lord can explain them to Elle.”

  Lord looked at him sideways. “Which means Vanessa will know by morning.”

  “Good point. I guess I’m gonna play up this hero angle pretty hard-core.”

  I pressed tighter to Bishop’s side. “I don’t mean to be rude, but this guy is the hero in my book.”

  Bishop looked down at me. “You don’t need a hero, Eden. You’ve got that covered.” He pressed a kiss to my hair. “But I’ll be there by your side all the same.”

  “So, where am I dropping you off this fine evening?” Lord asked.

  “My place,” I said. “If you don’t mind.”

  Bishop nodded. “The boss lady says her place, so that’s where we’ll be.”

  Boss lady. I liked it.

  I didn’t break down until I stepped into the shower and everything that had happened today came crashing down on me. I dropped my forehead against the wall, and my chest heaved when I thought about how close I’d come to losing everything.

  Bishop. My father. My friends.

  I cried for Angelo—the version I’d known before.

  The door creaked, and a breeze told me Bishop was inside. The curtain slid open a foot and I turned my head sideways.

  “Breaks my heart to see you cry, cupcake.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t ever apologize for how you’re feeling. You own that. It’s yours.” He stripped his shirt over his head and shoved his jeans past his hips before stepping into the shower. “But if you’re gonna cry, at least do it where I can hold you.”

  The water beat over us both as I clung to Bishop’s shoulders. He pressed his lips to my forehead and held on but said nothing. Nothing needed to be said. I just needed to let it all flow out and down the drain.

  When the water started to run cold, he moved us out of the stream and turned it off.

  “You need to go to my place where we have more hot water?”

  I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips. “No, I think I’m good.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “Then let’s get you dried off and dressed.”

  We stepped out of the shower, and Bishop wrapped me with a towel before grabbing one for himself.

  “We’re going to have to do something about the fact that you have no clothes here,” I said when he pulled his jeans and T-shirt back on.

  He gave me a look. “I was thinking more along the lines of how we need to do something about the fact that we don’t sleep in the same place every night.”

  Bishop had a point.

  “We haven’t really talked about what’s next for us. Except, you know, the fact that you told my father you love me and basically dared him to stand in our way.” I was still smiling inside over how adamant Bishop had been on the plane. “So, what do you want to do?”

  “I’m not going to rush you. You’ve wanted your freedom for a long time, and I’m not going to take that from you. You decide when and how we handle this. I’m on your timetable. I’m sure as shit not going anywhere.”

  The fact that he wasn’t trying to push me made it all the better. “Do you kill spiders?”

  Bishop looked at me like I might be crazy. “Say what now?”

  “Do you kill spiders? Because honestly, I’m all for being independent . . . until spiders are involved. Then I want a big man in my house to kill them for me and carry me away and give me a dozen orgasms so I can forget about the horror of spiders.”

  Bishop’s booming laugh filled the small space of my apartment. “Is that right?”

  I nodded.

  “So are you telling me you want me around?”

  “Yeah. I do. But it’d be even cooler if we could both keep our places and just go back and forth for now. Maybe see which one suits us better?”

  Bishop studied me, and I realized he got what I was saying without me actually saying it. I wasn’t ready to give up my place just yet. It was tiny, but cute and awesome, and I loved it.

  “I think that works just fine for me, cupcake. I’ll bring over a bag, and you can take a bag to my place.”

  “I’m going to have to go shopping.” I thought about all the stuff in my apartment in New York. Designer clothes perfect for the life I no longer wanted. “Yeah, I’m definitely going to have to go shopping.”

  He pulled me into him and squeezed me tight. “I think your girls would be more than happy to help you with that.”

  My girls.

  My man.

  My life.

  My everything.

  THEY AMBUSHED ME JUST BEFORE the end of my shift. In all honesty, I wasn’t surprised. Charlie, Vanessa, Elle, Valentina, Yve, and Delilah strode into Your Favorite Hole like they were on a mission. The window had been replaced, and the events of three days ago seemed like just a bad memory now.

  “It’s time for details, sugar.” Delilah stopped in front of the register and pressed both palms to the counter. “Bishop isn’t telling me a damn thing.”

  I was actually surprised they�
��d held off this long, but then again, I’d been busy in the best way possible with Bishop at my place. Complain about my man-bunned giant keeping me trapped in bed for hours and hours? Not likely.

  Fabienne wiped down the counter around the espresso machine and nodded at me. “You might as well knock off now and tell them everything. Make sure to do it loud enough so I don’t have to work too hard at eavesdropping.”

  My boss had been incredibly patient, taking the incomplete explanation I’d offered her and my apologies about bringing the crazy into Your Favorite Hole in stride. I’d offered to pay for the window damage, but she’d just huffed.

  “That’s what insurance is for. You might’ve attracted the nutjobs like a magnet, but that doesn’t mean you’re responsible.”

  I lifted my apron over my head and slipped out from behind the counter.

  They picked the cozy seating area, and Charlie, Yve, and Valentina crammed in on the loveseat. Vanessa took a chair and Delilah settled on the footstool, leaving the last chair for me.

  “So, what the hell happened? And why the hell didn’t you tell us you were some badass mobster’s daughter?”

  Delilah went straight for the jugular with her questions. Given that it was her brother who I’d dragged into it, I wasn’t all that surprised. Before I could gather some kind of answer together, Charlie responded.

  “Because some people don’t like to talk about their fathers. Especially when they’re infamous or notorious.” She looked at me with understanding clear on her face. “I’ve been there. I get it.”

  I nodded. Charlie understood better than anyone what I’d been grappling with, except on a much crazier scale. Dom had kept me in the shadows, but she’d been thrust into the limelight during her father’s trial. I supposed, in a strange way, I owed Dom for that. But now I was ready to live in the light.

  “Dom was never a true father. I’m the youngest of his illegitimate kids, and I was never allowed to meet my half siblings. I wasn’t really allowed to meet anyone. I think it was his way of keeping me safe, but . . . well, we all know how that worked out.”

  “We will when you tell us . . .” Delilah prompted.

  So I told them as much as I could, and by the end, jaws were nearing floor level.

  “We’re thankful as hell you’re okay, and that you didn’t bring our guys back with any bullet holes,” Yve said. “Although Titan would probably claim to be bulletproof.”

  I laughed, thankful she broke the shocked silence.

  “Are you sure he’s not? Because he did stare down some mobsters like he had no fear.”

  Yve’s tawny eyes widened a fraction before rolling. “Of course he did.”

  “So, what’s next?” Valentina asked.

  I smiled, but Delilah answered for me.

  “Bishop is going to lock her down and never let her out of his sight again.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with that.

  With perfect timing, the front door chimed, and the man in question walked in. Bishop stopped behind my chair, lowered his hands to my shoulders, and squeezed.

  “Have you finished your interrogation?”

  Delilah made a noise that I was pretty sure qualified as a harrumph. “We can keep going for hours.”

  Bishop’s grip tightened. “Not gonna happen. I got a date with my girl.”

  His sister sent him a look that promised she wasn’t letting this go entirely. “I suppose we can let you have her. For now.”

  Bishop released one of my shoulders and his hand slid around to my collarbone. “For now?” He laughed. “Fuck that. With Eden, it’s all about forever.”

  A collective aww released on a sigh from the girls as my heart sped up.

  Vanessa rose. “On that note, I think it’s time for us to go.” She met my gaze. “I would invite you to join us for girls’ night, but you’ve clearly got other plans. Know that you’re welcome anytime. We take turns hosting.”

  Bishop released his hold as I stood.

  “Thank you.” I shot a look at the man behind me and said to Vanessa, “You better believe I’ll take you up on it sometime.”

  “We’ll hold you to it,” Charlie said. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

  I squeezed her and then stepped back into the circle of Bishop’s arms, and my heart was near to bursting. I’d never had this. The overwhelming support. Friendship. Love.

  It truly was everything.

  We climbed off the back of Bishop’s bike, and I unlocked the gate to the courtyard at my place. Harriet was coming out her back door as Bishop pushed his bike inside.

  She clapped her hands. “I’m so glad I caught you! I wanted to take one last look at the place before I jet off.”

  “Jet off?” I asked.

  “In the flurry of all your excitement, I must have forgotten to tell you. I’m headed to Machu Picchu to expand my landscape watercolor skills. After that, I’m going to hug a few tortoises in the Galapagos and then see those crazy heads at Easter Island. I’ve got a lot to check off my list before I kick the bucket.” She came forward and wrapped me in a hug. “Now, keep yourself from getting kidnapped again while I’m gone. I don’t want to miss it.”

  From inside, her front buzzer sounded.

  “That’s my car to the airport. I’ll see you kids soon.”

  “Safe trip, ma’am.”

  “Not too safe, I hope. Life is all about taking chances.” Harriet winked, whirled around, and disappeared inside.

  Bishop looked down at me. “She’s a nut, but she’s a cool old lady.”

  I was thinking the exact same thing. Her comment about checking things off her list made me think of all the ones I had pinned to my bulletin board in my New York apartment.

  “And here you probably thought I was crazy with my list of things to check off.”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. Why not experience everything you can?”

  It was the opening I needed. “I have at least dozen more lists. Cities all over the world. By the time I’m Harriet’s age, I want to check everything off.”

  Bishop studied me. “Is that right?”

  I nodded.

  “Then I guess we’re going to have to get our hands on those lists so we can start planning.”

  A smile stretched the corners of my lips. “Really?”

  Bishop slid a hand under my hair and curled it around the back of my neck. “A lifetime of adventures with the most amazing woman I’ve ever met? Sign me up. I’m ready.”

  I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his. When I pulled back, I met his green gaze. “So, about this date . . . what are we doing?”

  “You’ll find out when we get there.”

  By the end of the night, Bishop had inked us both with new tattoos—his was a cupcake, worked into the sleeve on his left arm, closer to his heart, he said. Mine was a beautiful bird on my shoulder blade, flying free. No more gilded cages or clipped wings for me.

  I also finally checked off the last thing on my New Orleans Must Do list. I learned how to say I love you in Cajun.

  Six months later

  “A FEDERAL COURT HAS FOUND Dominic Casso not guilty of all pending charges. Should we start calling him Teflon Dom?” a news anchor asked his co-host.

  “I don’t know how he did it. I really, truly don’t,” Eden whispered from beside me on the couch with her gaze glued to the TV.

  “He successfully pinned everything on Vin and Angelo, who didn’t exactly have a chance to refute it.”

  “I’m not sad about it. I don’t know what that says about me as a person, but I’m not sad at all.”

  I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You don’t need to be sad. Angelo was a creepy fuck.”

  We’d found more and more evidence of that once we’d gone back to New York and cleaned out Eden’s apartment. That was, after the Feds had let us in. Thankfully, we knew people who knew people.

  Cameras had been installed in
every room, including the bathroom, as well as in her office at the spa.

  The head of one of the crime families who was supposedly engaged in the so-called “power struggle” that had been happening to take control of the Casso empire had come forward. He confessed to Dom that it had all been orchestrated by Vincent with Angelo’s help. Dom had cleaned house, identifying more associates and soldiers on Vincent’s separate payroll.

  I hadn’t pushed too hard for more answers because, quite frankly, I wanted Eden as far away from the entire thing as possible.

  Her father agreed, and had given his blessing.

  Not only did he not want me dead, he wanted me very much alive for Eden. I didn’t want him dead either. Enough blood had been shed.

  “Did you check the mail I left on the counter? There was a big envelope for you.”

  She shook her head and pushed off the couch. When she made it to the counter, she lifted it. “This one?”

  “Yeah.”

  Eden tore it open. “What the hell?”

  I stood and strode toward her. “What is it?”

  She handed me a piece of paper. “A deed.”

  “What?”

  I grabbed the envelope, which didn’t appear to have a return address, and dumped out the rest of the contents on the counter. A picture, a brochure, and a set of keys fell out.

  It was a house in the French Quarter. The picture didn’t look like much, but the brochure was a whole different story. From the outside, it looked like a simple brick building, but the pictures of the inside showed a completely renovated townhouse. The ten thousand dollar a square foot kind.

  The deed was in both our names.

  Eden flipped the picture over, and a note was stuck to the back.

  An early wedding present. Don’t keep my girl living in sin for too long, Bishop.

  —DC

  Eden’s eyes practically bulged out of her head. “Holy shit. My dad just gave us a townhouse. In the Quarter. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  I thought about the ring I’d bought last week at an antique store on Conti Street and had been carrying everywhere with me since. I shook my head. How did the old man do it?

 

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