16. Kaos
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
KAOS
I want to wipe the shit-eating grin off Wyatt’s face the second he pulls up outside the apartment I grew up in. The bastard couldn’t stop laughing when I called him to come get us and track down my car that Camilla decided to steal.
Again.
For a woman who grew up with more money than she could ever spend in three lifetimes, she sure does have a penchant for stealing expensive cars.
No one has said a word since we realized she’d taken the car and run, but the tension only seems to grow thicker with each minute that passes.
If it weren’t for the tracker embedded in Camilla’s neck, I’m pretty sure Kovu already would have lost his fucking mind, but instead he watches his phone intently, the little red blinking spot bringing him some semblance of peace.
I don’t want to be the one who says it, but it was only a matter of time before she found out we were the ones that killed her father. It was inevitable, and we should have had the initiative to tell her ourselves so we could control the fallout.
Or at least lock her up so she couldn’t run from us.
She should know better than to try to escape us. We gave her the chance, more than one if I’m remembering correctly, but it’s too late now.
She’s ours, and there’s nothing, not even her, that can stand in our way of keeping her.
“About time you got here,” Bishop grumbles as he tugs open the back door of the charcoal SUV and slides to the other side while Crew takes the front seat.
“Sorry, some of us didn’t murder our girlfriend’s father and then not tell her about it for months,” he snarks as Kovu climbs into the very back of the car and I slip into the seat beside Bishop.
Crew glares at his friend, and if I weren’t so fucking pissed, I’d think to laugh. “That’s not helpful right now,” he rumbles.
“And here I thought picking your asses up was very helpful.”
I roll my eyes and rest my head back on the seat. My entire body hurts from sleeping on the air mattress, which quickly turned into sleeping on the cold, hard floor.
“She’s at the De Marco estate,” Kovu tells us from the back, and Crew quickly gives Wyatt the directions.
Who knows how long she’s going to stay in one place for.
It’s only the knowledge that Camilla doesn’t seem to be going any further than her family’s mansion that allows me to close my eyes for the drive.
It’s been a long fucking few days, and if I’m going to go toe to toe with the princess, I’m going to need all the energy I can get.
She’s not going to make this easy for us, and part of me hopes she doesn’t.
Camilla is always sexiest when she’s got a bee in her bonnet about something, and let’s be honest, hate sex is just about the hottest kind of sex you can have.
Wyatt pulls up to the curb and doesn’t bother to smother his amusement when we see my car haphazardly abandoned at the entrance to the driveway.
“I hope y’all are ready to grovel.”
“Fuck off,” Crew grumbles, pushing the door open at the same time Bishop does.
“Thanks for giving us a lift, man. Probably could have done without the commentary, if I’m honest,” Bishop says as he slams the door shut.
We’re all on edge, including the man who has always been unaffected in the past. Bishop has always been the stoic one, the unemotional one, but not when it comes to Camilla. She brings it out in him, for better and for worse.
“He’s getting entirely too much joy out of our misery,” Bishop grumbles as I peek into the car and notice the keys sitting on the front seat. Not only did she go so far as to park it out here, but she also ensured there was no reason for us to go near the house.
“To be fair, we probably should have come clean about our role in her father’s death when she first arrived,” I say. I’m not in the business of being the devil’s advocate, but it’s the truth. I’m pretty sure I told them as much at the time. But what would I know?
“Little late for hindsight now, K,” Kovu growls as he stalks toward the guard house. He’s been here before, but I think this is the first time he’s going to try to get through the front door.
An older man steps out of the guard house, his hand resting on his gun in its holster as he watches us approach. There are deep smile lines around his lips, but right now they’re pulled down into a tight frown.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?” he asks, not allowing his gaze to drop from us.
“We’re here to see Camilla,” Crew replies. He may be dressed in sweats and a tight black T-shirt today, a far cry from his usual suit, but he’s all business.
“Unfortunately, Miss De Marco explicitly said she doesn’t want any company,” the man tells us, and I drop my head back, looking up at the gray sky. Seems fitting it’s about to rain. “But I’ll let her know you dropped by.”
“I’m not leaving until I see Camilla,” Kovu forces through gritted teeth, and I edge toward him, ready to pull him back if he lunges for the guy. Somehow, I don’t think shooting the messenger is going to win us any favors right now.
Fuck, I hate being the logical one. This isn’t my job.
The man looks each of us over, his eyes lingering for long seconds before he lets out a sigh and drops his hand from his gun. He obviously knows we’re not a threat to her, but I still get the impression he’s not going to let us through this gate.
“Miss De Marco has requested increased security around the house, they arrived a little while ago. If I were you boys, I would recommend giving her some time to cool down.”
The tension in Crew’s shoulders falls into dejection as he drops his head. “There have been multiple attempts on her life recently. We just want to make sure she’s safe.”
“I can assure you that she is safe here. I have worked for the De Marco family for forty years, and I’ve vetted every single one of these men. No harm will come to her while she’s here.”
Crew considers him for long moments before giving him a sharp nod. “I’ll give you our numbers. If anything happens, I want you to call us immediately, and we’ll be here.”
He looks us over one more time before returning to the guard house and coming back with a notepad and pen.
Leaving Camilla here isn’t something any of us wants to do, but it looks like she’s taken that choice out of our hands.