24. Kovu
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
KOVU
I ’ve never considered the life we lead particularly normal.
Sure, we have normal days where we eat together as a family and do mundane shit like making dinner and doing the dishes, but we also spend a good chunk of time killing people and running a criminal enterprise.
But today has got to take the cake as the weirdest day of my life as I watch my own funeral from a van parked among close to a hundred others along the cemetery road.
Crew, Kaos, and Bishop are dressed in black suits and dark sunglasses that shield their obvious lack of grief, while Camilla is wearing a tight-fitted black dress that hugs every single one of her curves. I wanted to fuck her so bad on the way here, but she convinced me it wasn’t a good look showing up to the funeral to her dead boyfriend smelling of sex.
I suppose she had a point.
From here, I can see as people arrive, each of them stopping by my family to offer their condolences, but I’d put money on most of the people here today being glad I’m dead.
It’s going to be a rude shock for them when I stroll out of this van and reveal I’m not as dead as they think I am.
I check the time, two minutes until show time, and we’re still waiting on Davenport to show.
We’re not sure if Caleb will be here or not, given he hasn’t revealed himself to most of the city yet, but all the other leaders and their families are here, so it’s most likely Charles will show at a minimum.
Camilla looks around, her eyes covered by sunglasses, but I imagine the big gray pools staring right at me when they flick past the van.
Crew wraps his arm around her shoulders and whispers something to her, which she nods to, turning back to face the empty coffin.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, finding a text from one of the Saint James men Storm sent a few days ago.
Andy: Davenport is on his way up the road with two men.
Kovu: Thanks.
I tear my eyes off Camilla and move to the back of the van, where I can see the path leading to my gravesite. Fuck, that’s weird to say. I’ll be glad when this is all over and I can stop playing dead.
Davenport comes into view, his dark gray suit paired with a black shirt and tie, while Knox, his cousin and second-in-command, is wearing an all-black suit, sans the tie. He’s at least half a head taller than Charles, and they look nothing alike. The perks of being illegitimate, I suppose.
Beside him is Caleb, and it takes everything within me not to charge out of the van right this second and beat him to a bloody pulp. The realization that he killed Bishop’s mother has been hard on all of us for different reasons, but mostly because he’s been playing us for years, almost Bishop’s entire life, and the whole time I’ve known him.
Nothing was ever real, and for someone who never had anyone before I was adopted into this family, that fucking sucks.
I touch my earpiece to activate it and whisper, “Incoming.”
Crew nods slightly, playing it off as if he’s saying something to Bishop, but none of them turn to see who is making their way up the center of the crowd.
I crack my neck from side to side, reveling in the sound my bones make as I stretch. I can’t wait to see their faces when they realize they didn’t succeed in killing me, but I’m sure as hell not going to make the same mistake when the time comes.