10. Kaos
Ididn’t need to see the woman to know she was trouble. From the moment Kovu and I walked back in from slaughtering De Marco, the atmosphere was off, and when I found out we had a houseguest, I put it down to that. It’s been a long time since anyone outside the four of us has stayed at the compound, and if I had it my way, it would have stayed that way.
But now I understand it. She’s not just some damsel in distress. She’s the woman the whole city wants right now. Because as soon as her father drew his last breath, she became the heir to the De Marco family, and that’s territory every family in the city wants.
I pinch the bridge of my nose all the way home, a thumping headache bleeding through despite my attempts to calm down. I need to reign it in before we get back to the compound despite the way my body craves violence.
Bishop’s knuckles are white as we speed through the streets of New York. Even at this time of night, parts of the city are in gridlock. You’d think after so many years here we’d be used to it, but the way he slams his hand down on the horn every time we’re forced to slow down, he’s in no mood for the traffic.
“I can’t believe you brought Camilla fucking De Marco into our home base,” I growl. This is his fault, no matter which way you look at it. If he’d just minded his own business and left her where he found her, none of this would be happening, and we’d be enjoying a blissful night of silence, but of course that’s not the case.
“I obviously didn’t know it was her,” he snaps.
“Did you ask?”
“No, I didn’t fucking ask. She was groggy and disoriented when she woke up earlier, and she hadn’t woken up again by the time I had to leave. She literally said a handful of words to us. Was she really going to volunteer her full name to two scary looking strangers?”
Rationally, that’s a good excuse. But the irrational part of my mind that knew she was trouble without ever having laid eyes on her wants to berate the girl for omitting her identity. If it weren’t for the fact she was beaten black and blue and we killed her father, I would think she was a rat, but even I know that’s not logical. No one in this city knows where the compound is, and we’ve gone to great lengths to ensure that, so there’s no way an eighteen-year-old girl knows. On top of that, she didn’t even know who we were until we told her, and from Bishop’s storytelling, it seems the very idea of being in the presence of the Legion made her pass out. So, I guess that’s out.
“Try calling Kovu again.” Bishop turns a corner too quickly, and the wheels slip on the wet road.
“If you don’t think she’s a threat, why are you rushing?”
“Because if Crew finds out, he might hurt her,” he snaps.
I look up at him, his jaw tight with tension, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles have turned white from the pressure. I saw the same type of reaction in Kovu when he came to tell me she was in our guest room. They’re attached. And not just attached, they’re fucking obsessed. Which is a big problem considering Davenport is intent on having her. I still don’t quite understand why. Sure, marrying her will ensure his access to her territory, but there has to be more to it than that. He knows the bylaws the same way every other leader does. He cannot control both territories, no matter which way he spins it.
“Crew won’t hurt her.” But I might. Even if he’s our big bad leader and every boss in the city fears him, he’d never hurt a woman. Not really. Sure, he likes to inflict pain in the bedroom, but he’d never do any permanent damage. On the other hand, I don’t have the same morals as the others. I crave blood, death, and violence. And I don’t give a fuck who’s on the receiving end.
Bishop turns sharply into the alley and barely misses the rising roller door on the way into the garage. He’s basically vibrating by the time the car comes to a stop, but he doesn’t pause. He’s out of the car before I can even take my seat belt off. I don’t know what he thinks is going to happen because Crew doesn’t even know the girl’s identity, but I doubt there’s any reasoning with him right now.
I follow after him, jogging up the steps to catch up. I wouldn’t ever call Bishop slow, but he doesn’t usually move like this, so frantically. “Can you slow down?”
“Shut up.”
It’s not until we reach the guest room door and he realizes his father isn’t here that he allows himself to take a breath. He’s got it bad.
Before he can reach for the handle, I grab him and tug him back. I step between him and the door and cross my arms across my chest. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve spoken a few words to this girl. She’s covered in bruises and has multiple broken bones, so I assume you haven’t fallen for her breathtaking good looks. So what the fuck has gotten into you and Kovu?”
His eyes flick to the door behind me before he lets out a heavy sigh. “I can’t explain it.”
“Well, fucking try.”
The door opens behind me, and Kovu appears in my peripheral vision. “Can you two keep your fucking voices down?” he growls. “She’s just gone back to sleep, and she refused any more pain meds. I don’t blame her, she must be fucking terrified.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” I mutter.
“What the fuck is that meant to mean?” Kovu snaps, his wild blue eyes flaring with anger.
“It means she fucking knows this life, and she knows exactly who we are and what we do.”
He looks to Bishop, who pinches the bridge of his nose. “What’s he talking about?”
“It seems we have Camilla De Marco sleeping in our guest room,” Bishop sighs.
“We what?” A voice at the other end of the hall draws all our attention to it. Crew stands with his arms crossed over his broad chest. His expression is thunderous, and his anger is palpable even from this far away.
Bishop groans under his breath before stepping toward his father. “We met with Davenport like we discussed. He wanted us to help him find Camilla, except it seems we already have her, we just didn’t realize it.”
Dead silence falls upon the hallway as he processes the words his son has just spoken. It was complicated enough for Bishop and Kovu to bring a woman into the compound, but her being the daughter of the man I slaughtered today makes it a whole hell of a lot more so.
The door behind me clicks open again, and I turn to find the woman in question, bruises and flecks of blood still stuck to her skin, wearing one of Kovu’s old band shirts that drops to her knees and her arms wrapped around herself protectively. She’s struggling to remain standing, her legs shaking beneath her.
She’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. And I hate her for it immediately.