48. Camilla
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CAMILLA
C rew’s hand in mine is tight as he pulls me down a set of stairs and through a door I’ve never noticed before, but admittedly, I haven’t spent that much time down here apart from to torture people.
Another two doors and a set of stairs later, and we’re in what appears to be a tunnel. Thick concrete surrounds us, but from how many steps we’ve taken down, I assume we’re somewhere underground.
Crew doesn’t pause, always pulling me along with one hand and his gun trained in front of him with the other.
Panic claws at my chest, but I try to swallow it down.
We’re going to be okay.
Everything is going to be okay.
Everyone will be okay.
I repeat the same words over and over again, but it doesn’t seem to matter how many times they run through my mind, the panic never fades.
This is what my dad was talking about. Love makes you weak. He knew because his love for my mother almost destroyed him when he died. Their marriage wasn’t arranged the way his parents would have liked, and that meant there were real feelings involved, and when she died, his emotions died with her.
But when I think about what my life would be like without the love of the four men who have stolen my heart, all I see is darkness. In just a few months, they’ve become the sun that lights me up from the inside out, and I can’t even think of them not being by my side.
“It’s going to be okay,” Crew assures me, but I don’t miss the tension in his voice. He doesn’t know that. In fact, if recent history is anything to go by, we probably aren’t going to be okay at all, but I push that to the back of my mind and allow him to guide me down the dark tunnel.
I can barely see five feet in front of me, and it’s a pretty tight space, so I thank my lucky stars I’m not scared of the dark or claustrophobic because this would be really painful if I was.
My bare feet are frozen against the cold concrete floor, but I keep up with Crew, ignoring all the ways my body aches from how I was thoroughly fucked just a few hours ago.
I already miss that blissed-out state I was in when we all fell into bed together, but there will be more times just like that. There has to be.
“Careful,” Crew murmurs as we approach a set of stairs, and I flinch the moment my bare foot hits the first metal step. Goddamn me not putting shoes on. There was no time, and grabbing weapons seemed more important than footwear, but now I’m not so sure.
I flex my fingers around the gun in my other hand and take a deep breath as we ascend.
Always be ready for every eventuality.
Don’t let them get the jump on you.
Expect the worst, always.
The lessons my dad taught me filter through my mind as we pause at the top.
Crew rests his ear against the solid door and listens for movement on the other side, but he must not hear anything because he pushes me behind him slightly in order to swing the door open.
He steps in first, and I’m only a couple of steps behind him when someone grabs me, their body hard at my back as I immediately go into fight or flight mode.
My eyes lock with Crew’s at the same time someone holds a cloth to my face, and no matter how hard I shove at their arms, scratch at their skin until blood drips down their wrists, the drugs do their job, and Crew is forced to watch from where two men I don’t recognize hold him.
He fights against them, even gets an elbow to one of their noses, but ultimately he meets the same fate I do, and it’s not long before unconsciousness takes us both under.