40. Bishop
Idown my glass of whiskey the second Crew hands it to me, ignoring his surprised look.
Today has been a shitshow of epic proportions.
I thought when I called my dad for backup because the casino was being raided, that was the craziest thing that could happen tonight, but then he told me the fight club was taken down at the exact same time, leaving us shorthanded because someone had to stay here with Camilla.
It was easier when she was on lockdown and we had to have one of us with her the whole time because we thought she might snoop or try to run. But now it’s for her own safety, as she accumulates more and more enemies as the days go by. It’s not like we can just bring her with us.
Crew takes my glass and refills it, but the moment he hands it back to me, it meets the same fate as the first. I’m wound too tight, and as much as I’d love to fuck Camilla to release some of the tension, I don’t have the time.
As if the thought of her could make her appear, she walks into the room with Kovu in front of her and Kaos behind her. But it’s not until a smug-looking Kovu steps out of my way that my mouth drops open in surprise. She and Kaos are both covered in blood, and before I can get the question out, Crew is across the room, his eyes looking for cuts on her to explain where all the blood has come from.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” he barks at Kaos, not taking his hands off her as he grasps her arms in his hands and searches for the source of the blood.
“I think the better question on this occasion is what the fuck did she do to him.” Kovu barks out a laugh, and Crew finally tears his eyes off Camilla to look at Kaos.
He’s almost as covered in blood as she is, but when I spot the wound in his stomach, I realize she must have been the one wielding the knife.
“Nothing he didn’t deserve.” Camilla smirks as she moves further into the room. She stops by the cart and pours two glasses of whiskey before handing one to Kaos as he closes the distance between them. “Can you get Rogers in here to deal with his stomach and hand? I doubt he’s going to bleed out, but I hear gangrene isn’t much fun.”
Kovu doubles over, his laughter filling the room, and it’s even enough to drag my lips into a smile. It’s been such a rare sound all our lives, the fact that Camilla brings it out in him, in all of us so easily makes a part of me that has always felt adrift settle.
For so long, we’ve each held the weight of the world on our shoulders, and now that we have her, it doesn’t feel quite so heavy, even as the world around us implodes.
I shoot off a text to Rogers to come up when he’s free, which will save us a trip down to the medical rooms later with Camilla.
“Did you stab him?” Crew asks, finally moving from his place by the door now that the shock has worn off.
“Not so much as he stabbed himself with a knife I was holding.” Camilla shrugs as she takes a sip of whiskey and almost hides her reaction to the strong liquor.
I shake my head and tug her into my lap, surveying the blood she’s coated in. “What about this…artwork you have happening?” I raise a brow as the scent of copper fills my nose. Seeing her covered in blood shouldn’t be so fucking hot, but it is. I really hope Kovu and his blood kink isn’t rubbing off on the rest of us.
“Kaos thinks he’s Picasso.”
I bark out a laugh and bury my face in her neck. “You’re something else, love.”
“Don’t think I’m not still pissed at you.” She levels me with a harsh glare that only seems to make my smile grow. Fuck. Is this what it’s like to feel happy? Why does it feel so vastly different from every other time I’ve thought I’ve been content with the life we built for ourselves?
“How’s your ass?”
“Sore.”
“And your pussy?” I murmur against the shell of her ear.
“Kaos took care of that for me.” Camilla smiles as she pushes herself from my lap, and Crew laughs when he pulls her into his own.
“As much fun as this has been, we have some business we need to discuss.” He looks down at the woman in his arms, and then at each of us. “As of right now, it looks as if we are being targeted, but we’ve yet to work out by who. As far as I can tell, it’s none of the members of the five families. They don’t have enough sway with the cops for them to agree to raid the fight club and the casino on the same night, at the same time. Sure, they have some cops in their pockets, but not enough to get this kind of order over the line.”
Camilla’s shocked eyes fly up to his, and her lips open to say something, but he quickly shakes his head.
“It’s sorted. I’ve spoken with the chief of police, and I’ve been assured nothing like what happened tonight will happen again. He’s a regular at both establishments, as well as the Scarlet Lounge, so we have enough incriminating evidence on him to bury him if he goes back on his word.”
“I know you’re not going to want to hear this, Crew, but I’m almost positive the fight club had something to do with Eric Arnold. He’s been present every single time something out of the ordinary has gone down, and he disappeared into thin air as soon as the sirens started blaring.”
“Who’s Eric Arnold?” Camilla asks, her eyes flicking from the possessive grip Crew has on her hip to the rest of us.
“An old friend,” Crew replies as he downs the remainder of his drink.
She nods and turns her attention to Kovu. “Other than him being around for the things that have been happening, do you have any other evidence it’s him?”
He shakes his head. “Just a hunch.”
I sigh and drop my head back into the soft cushion. I’m not sure my dad is going to be willing to drag someone he and Uncle Caleb have known for such a long time, but we might not have a choice.
Without any other leads, our options are limited, and if this is as good as it gets right now, we need to see how it plays out, even if it means burning bridges.
“Bring him in.” Crew nods, squeezing Camilla a little tighter as he says the words. It’s strange to see my father lean on someone for support, to draw strength from another person, but it’s how effortlessly Camilla fits into that role for him that surprises me most.
A knock at the door draws our attention from one another, and Rogers strolls in with his medical bag in tow and a scowl on his face. It’s his usual expression, but he seems even more annoyed than usual.
“You assholes know I have an office for a reason,” he snaps as he dumps his bag on the table between us.
“You know we’re the ones who pay you, right?” Crew raises a brow, and Rogers just shakes his head as he starts pulling things from the bag.
“Which one of you are we doing first?”
“Oh, Kaos is the only one that’s hurt,” Camilla tells him, glancing down at her blood-stained legs and arms.
Rogers glances up at me, a question in his eyes. I did tell him he may be doing this with Camilla kicking and screaming, but I don’t think he expected the news to be dropped on her while he was in the room.
“Come here, love,” I say, holding my hand out to her.
Her brows tug together, but she does as she’s told, with a little help from Crew lifting her from his lap.
I get her settled across my thighs with one arm around her waist and the other clamped over her thighs to keep her steady. There’s little doubt in my mind that she’s going to kick my ass when she figures out what we’re doing, but as long as I can find her if she disappears again, I don’t give a fuck.
“Bishop.” Her gaze darts around at each of the other men in the room before settling on Rogers holding a tracker between his fingers and loading it into the gun. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“If you’re going to disappear without telling us where you’re going, then we need to be able to find you and make sure you’re safe,” I tell her with a shrug.
It’s not until Rogers steps up behind her that what I’ve just told her seems to settle into her mind, and her body starts fighting against mine.
“You are not chipping me like a fucking dog,” she snaps as she shoves against my chest, but I’m holding her too tight for her to escape my hold.
“It will only hurt for a second, Little Lamb.” Kovu moves around the table to crouch in front of her, gathering both her hands in his. “And we’re all getting one. You’re just going first.”
“How is that?—”
But before she can finish her sentence, she lets out a cry that makes the empty abyss in my chest ache. She buries her face in my neck, and I feel the telltale sign of tears against my skin as she squeezes Kovu’s hands so tight the skin turns white under the pressure.
“Good girl,” I murmur.