33. Bishop
Anger thrums through my body as we follow the tracker on my car, but I’m not surprised. I should have known the first chance she got, Camilla would try to put distance between us.
Everything has been so intense for the last few weeks, I’m hardly shocked that she needed a minute to herself. I just wish she told us where the fuck she was going.
At least she didn’t figure out how to disable the car’s tracking system. Small mercies, I suppose.
Kaos pulls onto the road that borders a cemetery, and I glance over at Kovu sitting beside me in the back, his own brows furrowed.
“What the hell is she doing here?” Kaos asks as he takes a left into the entrance of the cemetery.
“This is where her parents are buried,” Crew says, not bothering to turn back to us. “She probably just wanted some time to say goodbye to her dad, seeing as she missed the funeral.”
A pang of guilt tugs at my chest, but I ignore it. Just because she had a good reason to take my car and disappear doesn’t mean I’m not pissed about it.
The road through the cemetery is narrow, and Kaos ignores his usual need to speed everywhere he goes as we wind through the gravestones until I catch a glimpse of my gunmetal gray car. At least it looks to be in one piece.
Camilla is standing beside a pair of headstones, her gaze darting around like she’s looking for someone, but then her eyes settle on the car, and a small smile tips up the corners of her lips.
As we draw nearer, I realize she’s not wearing any shoes, her dress is covered in grass stains, and the perfect makeup she crafted earlier today for the meeting is running down her cheeks.
My poor, broken love.
The car has barely come to a stop when I open the door and quickly close the distance between us, and the second her eyes meet mine, her face crumbles.
Camilla throws herself into my arms, and the primal part of me revels in her coming to me for comfort, even if it’s not something I’ve ever been capable of offering anyone else.
“I’ve got you, love,” I murmur against her neck as I breathe in her soft scent.
I turn back toward the SUV and find Kovu leaning against it with an amused look on his face, and Kaos staring at us so hard I’m surprised his gaze isn’t burning us, and then Crew steps out of the passenger side and crosses the grass to where I’m holding her tight against me.
He stops beside us and reaches up to move Camilla’s hair from her eyes so she can look at him. “I’m sorry we didn’t bring you here sooner, Little Menace. It was an oversight, but not one we’ll repeat.”
A sob escapes her throat, and I tighten my hold on her, desperate to keep her together as she falls apart.
“But you’re still in a world of trouble for stealing my car and not letting any of us know where you were,” I murmur against the shell of her ear, and her choked laugh allows me to breathe easier. She’s going to be okay.
I carry her to the Lamborghini before carefully lowering her into the passenger seat. “I’ll meet you guys back at the compound.”
Kovu chuckles. “Someone’s in trouble.”
We drive in tense silence toward the outskirts of the city, and I don’t miss the way Camilla’s hands are fisted in her lap as she looks at our surroundings. I doubt she’s ever been out here because it’s not in her territory, it’s not in anyone’s. When we drew up the map, we carved out a little piece of the city for ourselves, away from the neutral zone.
I bring the car to a stop and allow a calming breath to escape my throat. I’m so fucking pissed right now that I can barely breathe, but I also get it. I get why she did what she did. I understand why she wanted some time to grieve alone, but that doesn’t mean I like it. I want her to come to me when she needs something. I need her to lean on me, or at least one of the others if she’s hurting.
I never want Camilla to hurt alone.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, her eyes glued to the setting sun ahead of us. We’re surrounded by old, run-down buildings that have long been vacated, but this spot is the best place in the city to watch the sunset and a place I never envisioned sharing with anyone else.
“Get out of the car,” I growl, throwing my door open and stepping into the cool afternoon air. The moment away from her intoxicating scent allows me to breathe, to remind myself that she’s okay and that I don’t have to spend the next however long plotting ways to get her back. But the moment I hear her car door open, my focus snaps to her.
She looks deliciously broken. Her cheeks are tear-stained, her arms are wrapped around herself, and her gaze is darting around the deserted area, and my cock twitches at the fear that radiates off her.
“Is this the part where you kill me and throw me to the bottom of the ocean?” She half laughs, but there’s a vulnerability in her tone that she rarely lets out to play.
“Not quite,” I rumble. “Come here.”
She moves quietly toward me, her feet still bare as she walks over the small pebbles, every so often flinching when one digs in a little too hard. Her eyes hold mine as she closes the distance between us, and she gazes up at me through thick lashes.
I reach up and grip her chin between my fingers, holding her tight to make sure she gets a pinch of pain from my touch. “Do you know how fucking scared I was the whole time you were gone?” I growl. I’ve never admitted to being scared in my fucking life. It’s not an emotion I’ve ever felt, only one that I’ve inflicted, but the days Camilla was separated from us were as close to fear as I’ve ever been.
She shakes her head, tears filling her pretty gray eyes.
“And then you go and pull a stunt like you did today?” I breathe a steadying breath, trying desperately to hold onto some semblance of composure.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice hoarse from her earlier tears. “I just needed a bit of time on my own. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“If you needed some time, you should have told us. We could have worked something out.”
Tears well in her eyes, but she just nods, and some of my stress melts away. If she can acknowledge what she did today was the wrong thing to do, she might think twice about doing it again. But that doesn’t mean she’s getting out of this scot-free.
I take a step back and reach for my belt. “Panties off, bend over the hood.”
Her eyes flare with interest, and she doesn’t hesitate to do as she’s told. She bends at the hips, slipping her hands up the skintight crimson dress and carefully tugging her panties down her shapely legs.
I watch every move she makes with keen interest as I tug my belt from the loops and fold it over on itself.
Camilla drops her panties onto the hood of the luxury sports car and bends over with her palms resting flat on the cool metal.
I take a step forward and run my hands over her delectable ass. I never would have considered myself an ass man before she came into the picture, but now I can’t get enough of hers.
Her head drops forward, and I know for a fact she thinks I’m going to fuck her. And I probably will.
But not yet.
First, she needs to learn there are consequences for her actions.