No one else said a word as we hauled ass back to the airport. We all knew we’d have confirmation as soon as we got there. Casso’s jet was waiting on standby. The Feds were coming down on him. He had every reason to run—and only one reason to stay.

Lord called Simon as we made the last turn, and he had the jet ready to move. Part of me hoped Casso at least waited to tell his daughter good-bye, but my chest clenched when I saw his jet was gone.

No one told Eden.

My father had apologized. I was trying to take comfort in that as Bishop half carried me up the stairs of the jet and settled me on his lap in a big comfy seat. I didn’t want to cry tears for a man who’d basically abandoned me, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I clung to Bishop as Titan gave the orders for takeoff. It didn’t once occur to me to stay in New York. There was nothing for me there.

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Bishop had wanted my father dead for ten years, for a reason that was no longer valid.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.”