“But he doesn’t see who is doing the hitting.”
“He suffers all the same.”
“Not enough,” I say, shaking my head. I stuff the sheets into the folder and straighten to face Zeke again. “I want him to see it’s me. I want him to know.”
“No matter the cost.”
“She’s a Bishop.”
“She’s a girl.”
“Our father would have done no less.” I say, knowing I’ll get a reaction out of him. His relationship with our father was very different than mine.
“And you idolize that brutal man?” he asks, right on cue. I don’t actually know why I bring it up. I didn’t agree with much of what my father did when it came to my brother, but I was first-born. I was his heir. And in many ways, I was like him. Zeke and Zoë, not so much. They were different. I wonder if it wasn’t Zoë’s influence that made Zeke see our father differently than I did. He was a ruthless man and as ruthless as Zeke is, he is fair.
“I don’t idolize—”
“Oh, Jericho!” He shakes his head like he’s so fucking disappointed in me. It pisses me off.
“If you don’t have the stomach for it, look away. Oh and no need to leave flowers on Kimberly’s grave. I’m home. I got it covered.”
“Fuck you, you asshole.” He shoves my chest, sending me back a step. “You think you are the only one who mourned her loss?”
I chuckle. “That right there is the difference between me and you. You mourned her. I still mourn her.”
“Because that’s what she would want? She would never want the father of her child stuck in the past letting his life be eaten away by revenge, while his daughter grows up not knowing him. Not really anyway, because he’s too busy with his vengeance to see what’s right in front of his eyes.”
I drop the folder on the seat of the chair beside me and shove him back hard. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare! She died in my arms!”
“I know. But you’re not the only one who lost her. She’s gone. She’s been gone. Angelique lives. And that little girl’s afraid of her own shadow. Is that what you want? What you think Kim would have wanted?”
“I’m keeping my daughter safe. I will do anything I need to do to keep her safe and you don’t get a say in that!”
“And how will you explain Isabelle to her? How will you explain what you’re planning? Because she understands more than you think. And she sees everything. Do you really want her growing up afraid of her own father?”
That stops me. “Why would she be afraid of me? She has no reason to fear me. I protect her. I will always—”
“Yeah, I got it. You’ll do anything to protect her even if the path you’re choosing will make a monster out of you. No better than our own father. You don’t know the half of what that man was capable of.”
His words hit me harder than his fist would have and I find myself staring at him like he just knocked the wind out of me. Rage and regret and betrayal burn inside me. I do know the brutality of our father. I’ve seen the evidence of it on our mother’s body.
Zeke looks away, shakes his head. He pushes a hand into his hair. “Fuck. I didn’t mean that,” he says.
“No, you did.” I reach down to take the folder. “But you’re not wrong. I do have one thing in common with dad. He never forgot his hatred for his enemies and neither will I.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. I walk up to him, look at the man he’s become. See the differences between us. “I’m going to do what I have to do. What I swore to do. If you can’t handle it, stay out of my way.”
I walk past him out the door, through the courtyard and back to the Red Room. I’ve lost my appetite for dinner. For the show I’d make of having Isabelle Bishop, of having initiated The Rite. I look around the room for her. I want to leave. Except that Isabelle isn’t here.
Fuck.
I see her brother in a heated conversation with Councilor Hildebrand at the far corner. Is he already making his case to marry her off right out from under my nose?
Well, he will be too late.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I dig it out, see a text from Dex. One word.
Chapel.
I shake my head and move toward the chapel. She can pray all she wants, my Bishop girl. No god will save her from me.