“You heard me.”
“Yes, but I’m not sure you’re hearing yourself. We had a plan, remember? We’ve played the hero card long enough. After tomorrow, she ain’t supposed to be our problem. She has a family to go home to, and it ain’t ours.”
Despite myself, I gasped at his harsh words while Rev growled and took a step toward Bishop. “You take that back.”
“Or what?”
In a flash, Rev had crossed the room and had Bishop pushed against the wall. “Just because we’re south of the border doesn’t mean I’m not still your president, little brother. I gave you an order.”
Bishop’s face flooded crimson with anger. With his nostrils flaring and chest heaving, he silently seethed for a few seconds. “Fine. I take it back,” he spat.
Gripping Bishop’s shirt tighter, Rev said, “Now tell Annabel you’re sorry that you were a selfish prick and you would be happy to have her visit us in Georgia.”
With his body coiled with rage, Bishop jerked his head in my direction and pinned me with a stare. “I’m sorry I was a selfish prick, and I would be happy to have you visit us in Georgia.”
Rev glanced over his shoulder at me. “Annabel, do you accept his apology, or does Bishop need to grovel a little more?”
“I accept it,” I squeaked. My legs trembled, and I had to fight to keep myself from falling. It was alarming to witness the brothers at such odds, but it was even more shocking to see Rev, whom I’d only known as so refined and reserved, lose his temper. Especially since it was about me.
Once Rev seemed satisfied with my answer, he released Bishop. He then took a few deep breaths as if to calm himself. “Annabel, will you leave us for a moment?”
“Yes,” I whispered and brushed past Bishop.
As the door closed behind me, I heard Rev say, “I’m sorry I had to do that, brother.” Although part of me wanted to stand there and eavesdrop, I felt I owed Rev too much for that. Instead, I hurried back to bed and drew the covers over me.
While I didn’t want to be the thing that came between Rev and Bishop, I couldn’t help being grateful that Rev had taken up for me. I wanted to squeeze him tight to show how thankful I was to not be going home to Virginia. My parents were going to have a conniption fit, but they could get over themselves.
From here on out, I realized, I could rely only on myself. It was going to be all about me.
EIGHT
REV
After Annabel left and I apologized to Bishop, he and I silently stared each other down for a few minutes. I knew what I needed to say to him—what I had to say. But while the admission seemed to have flowed so effortlessly from my lips just hours earlier, I found myself tongue-tied, with a mouth full of sawdust.
After clearing my throat several times, I managed to croak, “You want the truth about what happened to me? The truth about what brought me out here?”
He shot me a surprised glance, and I knew that was the last thing he’d expected me to say. “Of course I do.”
Leaning back against the tile, I nodded. “Then here it is.”
For the second time that day, the bathroom became my confessional. I once again purged myself of the terrible secret I had kept hidden for so many years—and from so many of the people I loved. Telling Bishop was just as frightening as I had imagined it would be. When I finished, I felt as if all the muscles, tendons, and bones in my body had been stripped away, and I stood bare to my very soul in front of him. It was both terrifying and liberating.
Meanwhile I stared Bishop down, waiting for his response. Surprise flooded me at the sight of tears in his eyes. He swayed on his feet, like he wanted to close the distance between us but was unsure of how I might react. “Fuck, man, I don’t know what to say.”
With a humorless laugh, I said, “That seems to be the consensus when people hear the story.”
“And you never told Mama?”
I shook my head. “No one but Preacher Man and Breakneck knew.”
“Jesus,” he muttered as he scrubbed the tears from his eyes. “I just can’t . . . all those years . . .” His breath escaped in a wheeze. “When Preacher Man left, I was just a kid, but I still remember wondering what the fuck could have possibly gone wrong.”
“It was because of me.”
Bishop’s face clouded over, and he jabbed his index finger at me. “Oh hell no, it wasn’t. I don’t care what kinda guilt shit you’ve carried around all these years, but I’m not going to fucking stand here and let you blame everything that happened on you. To start with, it was that fucking pervert’s fault. And even though I hate to say it, Preacher Man was to blame, too, for letting it get the best of him.”
Now it was my turn to fight back the tears. Deep down, I had always feared that if Deacon, and especially Bishop, found out my secret, they would hate me for ruining the family. “Thanks, man. I appreciate you saying that.”
“It’s the truth. I mean every fucking word. I ain’t sugarcoating anything.”
I snorted. “You, guilty of sugarcoating? Never.”
Bishop grinned. “Damn straight.”
Pushing myself off the wall, I moved closer to him. “One reason I told you my story was because I felt you had a right to finally know. But there’s another reason as well.”
“What’s that?”
“Annabel.”
Bishop’s brows came together in confusion. “What does she have to do with it?”
“Everything. She’s the reason I came out to Texas. At first it seemed like Sarah was the only reason, but after everything that has happened, I understand now. While I might’ve saved Annabel, she did the same for me by allowing me to finally get rid of the secrets.”