Page 14 of In the Shadows

Her lithe frame is covered only by an old shirt I think I recall Kovu wearing, and every piece of exposed skin is covered in black and blue bruising. Her arms are wrapped around her middle, and even the slightest move makes her wince in pain. There’s a cast on one of her arms that she cradles against her. But she stands strong despite it all, and I have to give her credit for that. It’s admirable for her to have had the day she has, to have been beaten and left for dead, brought into the belly of the beast, and now to find herself among the four scariest men to ever call this city home and to stand tall despite it. Credit where credit is due.

Kovu’s eyes soften at the sight of her, and he immediately steps toward her so he’s within reach if her legs buckle beneath her. “You shouldn’t be up,” he says softly. Kovu is not a soft man, he never has been. I didn’t even think he was capable of it considering the horrors of his childhood, but the way he’s looking at her is different from how he’s looked at the others.

She looks up at him and lets out a small breath. “You should take me to Davenport. I don’t want to make any trouble for you.” The words are quiet as they fill the hallway, but they’re strong. She knows what it means to be handed over to him, and for her to be the one to suggest it…speaks volumes and shows why Bishop and Kovu are already so deep in this with her. I don’t need to know anything about Camilla De Marco to know she’s stronger than the men in her life have ever given her credit for and that she’s more than capable of going toe to toe with just about anyone.

“No,” Bishop growls. He steps closer to her, angling his body protectively. Interesting. My son has never been particularly protective. Even when she was here, he never would have put his body on the line for her, but it seems our little house guest is another story entirely.

She looks up at him, her brows pulling together in confusion. She doesn’t understand either. We’re all in that boat right now, little one. “He’ll be mad if he finds out you hid me from him. It’s better that you take me now and save yourself some of the hassle. And maybe if I go to him now, he’ll go easier on me.” Even as she says it, her face falls. Charles Davenport is not known for his kindness. He’s cold and ruthless, and he only cares about himself and gaining as much power in this city as he can. I can’t imagine he’d be a doting husband.

“Absolutely not.” Kovu shakes his head as his eyes seek mine out. I don’t need him to speak to know what he’s thinking. This decision should be mine. Rightfully, it is. But he knows as well as I do that if I make the wrong choice and send the girl away, he and Bishop are never going to forgive me, and although I reign with an iron fist, I’ll never do anything to drive a wedge between the four of us.

She looks between the two of them in confusion. Although I’m certain she knows who we are, she likely doesn’t understand the dynamic between us. To be in our line of work and to rule over some of the most despicable people hell has ever spat out onto earth, you have to work together. There’s no going off on your own, there’s no dating, there’s no normality, because normality can get you killed. And so, although a decision does need to be made, they’re not giving me a chance to choose what’s in the best interest of the Syndicate. They’re forcing my hand, and she doesn’t even realize it.

“Having her here puts us in danger,” Kaos snaps, his eyes looking anywhere but at Camila. Very interesting.

“I don’t give a fuck. We’re not throwing her to the fucking wolves, Kaos. Not even you’re that heartless,” Bishop growls.

Everything happens so quickly that I don’t have time to stop it before it starts. Kaos lunges for Bishop at the same time Kovu grabs Camilla and pushes her behind him, shielding her from the two men scuffling in front of them. They’re big guys, both spend hours in the gym each day, but the way they fight is very different.

Bishop moves with grace, his moves are hard to predict, and therefore hard to block. But he doesn’t get the fight time the other two do, which means while he’s difficult to predict, he’s not as large as Kaos, nor does he have the experience.

Kaos is brutal. A real street fighter. Hell, he fights in the underground ring we run sometimes just for fun, and that means he takes Bishop to the ground easily.

“Enough!” I bellow, tugging Kaos off him and inserting my body between the two of them. “What the fuck has gotten into the two of you?”

“He’s being an idiot!” Kaos shouts, and a gentle sob from behind Kovu pulls my attention away from my nephew.

Camilla is huddled behind Kovu, but she grips his shirt in her bruised hands, her knuckles turning white from the pressure of her hold. There aren’t many sights that make the cold, dead space in my chest ache, but she looks so helpless and alone, and I can’t fucking stand it.

“You’re being an asshole.” Bishop dodges around me and shoves his cousin against the wall. They’ve always butted heads from the time they could walk, and my brother and I assumed they would grow out of it eventually. Apparently not.

“And you’re both scaring the poor girl,” I bark as I tug Bishop back again. “Camilla is going to stay here with us until Rogers gives her a clean bill of health. One of you is to remain with her at all times, and if none of you can be there for any reason, then I will step in. Once she has healed completely, we will revisit the subject. However, I am inclined to not hand her ov?—“

“Are you fucking serious?” Kaos cuts me off. “If Davenport finds out we have her here, he’s going to start a fucking rebellion, and there’s no guarantee which side the other families will take.”

I turn to him with fury pumping through my veins. He’s never so outwardly questioned my leadership before, and I don’t fucking like it. “You will do as I say, Kaos, or you can find somewhere else to live and work.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No, I’m dead serious. You will not question me, nor will you question the orders I give you. If you want to run this fucking business, be my guest. But until then, you’ll do as I say, when I say it.”

My eyes flicker to Camilla. Tears stream down her bruised cheeks, and despite her bravery, her entire body is trembling violently. “Get her back to bed,” I say to Kovu. “I don’t want you to move until you can walk without your legs shaking, Little Menace.”

All four sets of eyes fall to me at the term of endearment. She isn’t the first woman we’ve had here, but she’s the first I’ve ever called anything other than their name outside the bedroom. Apparently Kovu and Bishop aren’t the only ones who find our new house guest intriguing.

CHAPTER TWELVE

KOVU

Ilike the way she holds on to me like I’m the only thing keeping her from falling apart behind me. I generally don’t like people touching me, and I’ll do just about anything to avoid it, but when Camilla gripped the back of my shirt and held on for dear life, the panic that normally accompanies someone putting their hands on me was missing.

Instead, I was met with another emotion entirely. Protectiveness. And although it’s an unfamiliar feeling, I lean into it until I’m sure Kaos and Bishop no longer pose a threat to my little lamb, and even then, I remain in front of her.

The interest in Crew’s eyes when he looks at her is interesting, something I haven’t seen in a long time. After she died, he pulled away from the rest of us. Not physically of course, we all live and work here, so there are not that many places he can hide, but he’s no longer interested in having a drink at the end of a day and shooting the shit. He’s much more content sitting in his office all day and only leaving to eat and sleep, and even then, he seems more content to sleep in his office than in his bedroom. But the way he’s looking at Camilla, there are flickers of the old Crew cracking through the surface. Perhaps my little lamb is exactly what we need to bring us back together. Or maybe she’s going to tear us apart.

Crew looks at me with his brows raised expectantly. “Bed, now,” he orders.

I give him a quick nod before turning to Camilla, who finally releases the back of my shirt from her grip. Tear stains track down her cheeks, and her eyes are bloodshot. She’s trembling like a leaf, my oversized shirt the only thing covering her bruised skin. “You must be freezing,” I say gently. No one who’s ever met me would describe me as gentle, but I’m doing my best not to frighten her. The last thing we need is a houseguest who’s going to flee at the first opportunity because she’s terrified of all four of us.

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