60. Bishop
One moment I’m listening to Davenport talk shit about how he can’t wait to overthrow us, and in the next, everything goes dark.
The pain of metal hitting the back of my head barely has time to register before I lose consciousness, and I have no idea how long I’m out before I wake.
My head is throbbing, unsurprisingly, and almost immediately I realize my arms are bound behind my back.
I blink my eyes open, forcing the stars away as agony forces its way through my head. Fuck. They got me good.
I glance around, trying to keep my head steady as bile climbs up the back of my throat. It’s been a while since I’ve had a concussion, but I know that’s exactly what this is without Rogers having to shine a light in my eyes.
The dark room is empty aside from one other chair, and the only light filtering into the tiny concrete box is from the small window at the top of the door.
If I didn’t know any better, I would think I’d woken up in prison.
I groan as I tug at the zip ties around my wrists, the harsh plastic immediately slicing into my skin. I don’t have much hope of breaking out of these myself, but it will only be a matter of time before the others come for me.
I reach my thumb toward my ring finger, looking for confirmation that the only piece of jewelry I’ve ever worn is still in place, but quickly find it missing.
Motherfucker.
I had the rings made for us not long after Caleb died, the crest of the Legion doubling as a tracker and a reminder to every fucker we meet that we rule this city.
But apparently Davenport has forgotten that little fact.
Footsteps grow closer, and I steel myself against whoever is about to come through the door.
I’m hardly surprised when Charles steps through the door, his right-hand man quickly closing the door behind them.
Knox Davenport is Charles’s cousin, but from what I’ve heard, they’re not close. His dark hair is always neatly in place, and his cold blue eyes seem more resigned every time I see him. I guess if I had to work for Charles, I’d be quietly dying inside as well.
“Ah, you’re awake.” Davenport grins, the madness in his eyes shining through. He does a good job of hiding it, but you don’t do the shit we do without being completely right in the head.
“Thanks for the headache,” I retort, my glare settling on him.
“Oh, you’re so welcome.” He strides toward me, taking the seat in front of me, his leg crossing over his knee in a fluent movement that I’ve seen him do more times than I care to count.
Fuck, I hate this asshole.
“What do you think you’re playing at, Charles?” I raise a brow. “Surely you know it won’t be long before they come for me, and how do you think you’re going to fare when they arrive?”
He shrugs. “You can’t touch me. It’s against the bylaws.”
I laugh, the sound bouncing around my head and forcing bile up my throat once again, but I quickly swallow it down. “Actually, it isn’t. Did you take the time to read the contracts you signed? Because very clearly it states that making a move against us, trying to overthrow us, or hurting one of us is punishable by death.”
Anger flares to life in his eyes as they dart to Knox before falling right back to me. “You’ve been keeping my wife from me. I should have known you had her. I should have fucking known by your refusal to help me find her.”
A growl climbs into my throat, and I’m powerless to swallow it down. “She’s not your wife,” I bark. “Your contract with her father died the day he did. How many fucking times do you need that explained to you?”
Davenport stands so quickly the metal chair falls backward. The metallic clang of it hitting the ground bounces off the small concrete space. He advances on me so quickly that my aching head almost misses the move altogether, and a moment later, a barrel is pressed against my temple. “I don’t give a fuck what you say. The contract I had with De Marco didn’t state that he needed to be alive for the terms to be carried out.”
“Boss,” Knox grunts a warning, and Davenport stares me down for another few seconds before he drops the gun to his side.
“None of that matters now anyway, because now we’re going to do a new deal.”
“What deal?” I ask, the pounding in my head intensifying until I can barely stand it. Whoever hit me got me fucking good.
“Your life for Camilla’s, of course.”
My eyes widen, and panic assaults me. I’m not someone who has ever been much of a worrier, but she brings it out in me. She makes me possessive and protective, and the idea of her falling into his hands makes me equally as terrified as it does furious.
Davenport chuckles, his dark eyes shining with pure evil. Just when I thought we were as soulless as it gets, this asshole comes in and takes the cake. He leans forward, his cold gaze meeting mine and a smirk toying on his lips. “I hope you didn’t get too attached.”
Before I have a chance to respond, a sharp pain in the back of my head that feels all too similar to the one at the warehouse bursts through my brain.
The last thought I have before the darkness engulfs me is of my sweet Camilla and how I’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe.