Page 53 of In the Shadows

My phone rings in my pocket, and I quickly pull it out, glaring at the unknown number on the screen.

“What?” I snap.

“Did you enjoy the show today?” The voice on the other end of the line is vaguely familiar, but I don’t need that alone to connect the dots.

“What the fuck do you want, Davenport?”

“I wanted to let you all know that I’m taking matters into my own hands in finding Camilla De Marco. Anyone I think may be keeping her from me will meet the same fate Jones did today.” He pauses, and it takes all my effort not to snap back. That’s what he wants, and I’m not going to give it to him, no matter how pissed off I am. “I suggest you let all the members of the Syndicate know.”

Before I can respond, the line goes dead, and I’m left staring at the blank screen.

Does he know we have Camilla here?

And if so, is he threatening us?

Big fucking mistake, Davenport.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

CAMILLA

I’m getting fucking whiplash from these men.

One minute they’re avoiding me, doing their darndest to make me feel unwanted and unwelcome, and the next, Crew’s tearing me out of Kovu’s arms and barking about how I’m not safe with him.

I’m not naive enough to think Kovu couldn’t hurt me, because I’m sure he could. He’s the one they call in for the hard jobs, the ones that those who still hold a shred of humanity would balk at, but I haven’t been afraid of him since the first day. Since he helped me take pain meds and held my hand while I fell asleep as pain ravaged my body.

Crew kicks open the bedroom door and makes quick work of locking it behind him while keeping me close to his chest, not letting me go until he places me in the middle of the bed.

I stare up at him, my brows tugging together in confusion. Up until a few days ago, I hadn’t seen him in weeks. Now he’s demanding I go on birth control and protecting me from another member of his family? What the fuck has gotten into him?

I’m about to ask just that when he advances on me, stealing the breath right from my lungs as his lips crash down on mine.

He’s rough and demanding as he takes from me, but I don’t cower. I meet each kiss, each clash of our teeth, and each swipe of his tongue, desperate to taste the faint mint and whiskey on his lips.

Crew is fucking addictive, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of him.

He shoves me farther up the bed, but he follows so quickly I don’t get the chance to miss his body pressed against mine.

He tears his lips from mine, staring down at me with lust-filled eyes, and it takes all my strength not to rub my thighs together. My pussy is aching for attention, the need to come is so bright I can almost taste it.

“We can’t do this,” he whispers into the space between us.

“Why not?”

His lips crash back down on mine, his hard length pressing into my thigh as he grinds into me the way I wish he would fuck me.

I don’t know when I stopped fearing him and when I started craving his touch, but right now I feel like I might cease to exist if he doesn’t touch me and doesn’t do all the filthy things I’m certain are running through his mind right now.

He lifts himself, forcing some space between us as we both pant, our eyes locked on one another as he searches for whatever bullshit excuse he’s about to throw at me.

“The same reason we should let you go, that we should leave you to live your life without four overbearing assholes chaining themselves to you.”

I lean up on my elbows, bringing my face just an inch from his. “And why is that, Crew?” I purr his name. I may not have any experience with sex, but I understand men. I’ve been manipulating them my whole life, just another skill my father taught me to prepare me to eventually take on his role. The thing about men is they’ll always underestimate a woman, but that makes them easy to manipulate. I can’t say that about the men that live under this roof, though. They’d see it a mile away.

“Because you’re too fucking pure for us,” he growls as he presses me back into the mattress, his weight settling over me and leaving me unable to move. “We’ll chew you up and spit you out, and you deserve better than that.”

“What if that’s what I want?” I challenge. “What if I’m not as pure as you think I am?”

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