52. Crew
Bishop has never been the one I’ve had to worry about.
Kovu used to get into fights at school and got arrested more times than I can count before we moved into our current lives.
Kaos was angry after his father died. So fucking angry that he would go to bars and beat men within an inch of their lives just for looking at him.
Hell, even my brother was more of a problem than Bishop ever has been. Caleb had a penance for fast cars and fast women, which got him into trouble more than a few times because he couldn’t keep his foot off the pedal or his dick in his pants.
But never Bishop.
He was always the responsible one. More responsible than me at times. He was instrumental in getting us where we are today, because even when he was in high school, he could read people better than anyone else I’ve ever met, and that made him our secret weapon.
So how could he be so fucking stupid to take Camilla out of the complex? How could he put her in that kind of danger?
It’s not as if we haven’t spent the last three weeks trying to outsmart Davenport to ensure her long-term safety. It’s not like we haven’t been all pulling long hours, including Kaos, who claims to not be able to stand the girl, in order to make sure he has no claim to her when she returns to the world.
Fuck. Just the thought of letting her out of these four walls makes me tug at my collar, desperate for air. I’ve gotten far too fucking attached to our little houseguest, but it’s too late to go back now.
She’s ours, whether she wants it or not.
She signed her fate when she first allowed one of us to put our bloodstained hands on her.
I shove into my office and move straight to the liquor cart in the corner. I’m not having his conversation sober.
I make myself busy pouring four glasses and carrying them to the sitting area Camilla sat in just a few days ago, the one I can’t look at without seeing her sweet face pretending to read Wuthering Heights when she was really plotting and planning the way her father taught her.
I doubt she knew I knew what she was doing, but that’s part of the fun of it all. Having her here. Making her ours. She’s spent her whole life learning how to deal with assholes like us, but she’s going to fall for us just the same.
We’ll make sure of it.
I dump the tumblers onto the table, the glass clanging together as I haphazardly take a drink from my own, relishing as the liquor burns on the way down. Just what I needed.
After spending the entire morning in meetings with various members of the five families, including Charles fucking Davenport, I needed a drink anyway. But when Kovu messaged that Camilla was missing, fuck. It’s rare for me to feel fear. But in that moment, that’s the only thing I could feel other than blinding panic.
I’m not sure how she’s done it, but Camilla De Marco has snuck her way beneath my stony exterior, and I can’t even pretend to be mad about it, not when it feels so fucking good to have her in my arms.
Kaos and Bishop take a seat on opposite armchairs, glaring at each other like they wish they could kill one another with a look alone. Right now, they probably do.
This has been coming for the last few weeks. As each of us found ourselves getting closer to Camilla, Kaos has been getting increasingly angrier, and we need to put an end to it. We need to sort this out once and for all because I won’t have any of them destroy this family.
Kovu trails in a few minutes later, casting a glare at me and then Bishop, before finally settling on Kaos. There’s an obvious rift in the group, and despite always being able to hold us together in the past, for the first time in my life, I’m doubting my ability to do it again.
He takes a seat on the long couch, and I sit beside him, knowing it’s probably best to position myself in the middle in case someone starts throwing punches.
I’m not known for my even temper, but right now I need to get ahold of it because the other three won’t.
I turn to Bishop as he drains his glass and eyes the decanter still sitting on the cart. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
He sighs and places the empty tumbler on the table in front of him before leaning his head into his hands. “I was thinking that Camilla has been locked in this complex for weeks with no other company than the four of us. I just wanted to give her something normal for a few hours.”
I stare at him for long moments, because I’ve never heard him talk about someone like this. Even when we’ve had women here in the past, he’s never been that interested in their wellbeing. Not in a way that went past the physical, at least. But Camilla has been different for him from the moment he found her in that alley.
If I’m honest, she’s been different for all of us.
“You may as well have driven her across town to Davenport’s fucking penthouse,” Kovu snaps. The anger radiating from him is palpable, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t even reach for the liquor in front of him. If he doesn’t drink it soon, I might.
“It was just ice cream!” Bishop shouts. “I was careful. I made sure we weren’t followed. She wore a baseball cap the whole time and sunglasses when we were outside.”
“So you used the most obvious disguise on earth?” Kaos asks with a smug smile playing on his lips. “Might as well have put a fucking sign on her that said, ‘I’m trying to hide my identity.’”
“Shut the fuck up, K. You’ve wanted her gone from day one, don’t pretend you give a fuck now,” Bishop retorts.
“I don’t give a fuck about the princess. I care about the fact that if Davenport knows we’re harboring his pretty little wife, he’s going to rain shit down on us, and that’s not something I feel like dealing with.”
“He’s not her wife,” Kovu growls, the sound so deep it’s barely human, and it makes us all do a double take.
“She will be.” He shrugs.
I don’t see either of them move until it’s too late, and one second Bishop and Kovu are seated on the opposite side of the table to Kaos, and the next they’re tackling him to the ground.
Glass shatters as it hits the carpet hard, and the antique armchair he was sitting in crunches as the leg snaps.
I’m out of my seat before I make the conscious decision to break it up, but if I don’t, one of them is going to get hurt, and as it is, Rogers wants a fucking raise for all the work he’s put in for Camilla. Apparently, the sizable wage we pay the motherfucker doesn’t include women.
Asshole.
I drag Kovu off first, knowing he and Kaos have been at odds since we first brought her into our lives. He staggers back, his eyes feral with anger, as he advances on us again.
“Sit the fuck down,” I bark the order as I pull Bishop off his cousin, too late to stop the punch to the jaw he gets in as I throw him back toward the armchair he was sitting in.
There’s blood leaking from Kaos’s lip, and a deep bruise is already forming across his jaw and cheekbone, but he got off easy considering.
I stand between them, my shins against the table in the middle, and I ignore the crunch of glass beneath my feet. “This has to stop,” I snap. “I can’t have you fighting every other day because one of you says something the others don’t like.”
“Maybe he should learn to keep his mouth shut,” Bishop mumbles, his eyes locked on Kaos, where he sits with a smug smile on his face.
“Or maybe you should stop letting pussy ruin our lives. Didn’t Bianca teach you anything?”
The sound of her name sends the room into complete silence, and I brace myself for what I’m sure will be another brawl. We banned her name a few months after she died for this very reason. When you live in such close proximity with three other men, there’s bound to be tension at times, but there are certain topics that bring us to blows far quicker than others.
“Camilla is nothing like her,” Kovu grinds out, his jaw set in a tight line and his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles have turned white.
“Or maybe you just can’t see it. What do you think she’s going to do when she gets out of here? Do you think she’s going to be running back to get dick? Or do you think the Mafia queen is going to do exactly what she’s been trained to do and take us down in the process?”