Page 7 of In the Shadows

Interest.

Bishop was always a bright kid, and as a result, he’s always been a little bored. Even when we were finding our way into the positions we hold now, he struggled with the monotonous nature of our work, and now that we’ve cemented our role, he’s been getting more and more bored. There’s something missing in his life, and I have a feeling it’s what he thinks he can get from this woman, whoever she may be.

“She’s pretty beat up, and I don’t think she has anyone who can take care of her. I know you’re going to ask how I know that, seeing as we don’t even know who she is, but I just get the feeling she’s alone in the world.”

I tap my fingers on the edge of my desk as I consider my son. His features are so similar to mine that some days it’s like looking in a mirror, but we’re different in a lot of ways. He got just the right combination of ruthlessness and hope from his mother and me, even if she wasn’t in his life for very long. I shut off the painful memory before I can allow myself to feel it. That’s something I’ve gotten especially good at in the last twenty years, because I never want to feel like that again. I never want to watch my love take their last breath in front of my eyes.

“She can stay. But she is not to be left alone. If you and Kovu want to take responsibility for her, then I will hold you two responsible for any issues that may arise from her being here. The first sign of her being a problem and she’s out. Do I make myself clear?”

His eyes widen with surprise. He was expecting more of a fight. He thought I was going to demand she be removed from the compound immediately, to hell with how hurt she is or if she has anyone else in the world. But I won’t do that to him. And if Kovu has agreed to help watch over the girl, I can only assume he too has an attachment to her.

“I understand.” He nods quickly and pushes himself to his feet, not waiting around to give me a chance to change my mind.

“And Bishop?” I say, causing him to stop in place by the door and look over his shoulder at me.

“Be smart.”

I don’t have to say anything else. He knows what I’m talking about. Whoever this girl is, she’s not the first to come within these walls, but I’ll be damned if she’s going to tear us apart like the last one did, even if I’m the one that has to break my son’s heart.

CHAPTER FIVE

CAMILLA

Agony winds through my body like a vine, but I can’t work out where the source is. There has to be a source. Everything hurts. It hurts to breathe, to move, to just be. Every single thing my body does of its own accord to keep me alive makes me wince.

“She’s waking up,” a voice to my left whispers. It’s a man, but it’s definitely not my father, and he never allowed any of the guards close to me, so who the hell does the voice belong to?

“I’ll get her some water and some more morphine,” another voice says. This one is deeper, and I find myself lost in each syllable that slips from his throat.

Wait, morphine?

It all comes crashing over me in one overwhelming second. My father gave me away before I could even take my first breath. Then he helped me escape, and I was caught. The taxi. The alley. Those men. Is that who has me? Davenport? Despite my best efforts, have I been taken by the very man I tried to escape?

I open my eyes gingerly, the sunlight in the room too bright for my sensitive eyes. As if they notice how much the light hurts me, the curtains are quickly drawn, and the room darkens significantly. And yet, I can’t bring myself to look over at whoever closed them. What if it’s Charles Davenport? I don’t have an escape plan, and good luck to me if I did. I don’t need to have ever stepped foot inside his penthouse to know there’s no way out unless he lets me go, and we both know that’s not going to happen.

A face appears above mine, a soft smile on the lips of the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life. His chiseled features are covered with the shadow of at least a day, perhaps even two, and his green eyes sparkle as they look down at me.

“Hey there,” he rumbles. “I’m sure you’re scared. It would be kind of weird if you weren’t. But you’re safe here.” I shouldn’t believe a word out of his mouth, especially when each one sounds like a quiet prayer, but I find myself leaning into the false sense of security he’s promising. What other choice do I have?

Another face appears over me, and I’m startled by the sheer size of the man. There’s something about him I know I should be afraid of, but instead, I’m intrigued. “Good morning, Little Lamb.” His smile tugs at the scars at the edge of his lips until they crinkle. He’s not unattractive by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s covered in various degrees of scarring, and for some reason, I ache to brush my fingers along the broken skin. His wild blue eyes confirm he’s someone who should scare me, but instead I’m intrigued.

Have I woken up as another person? Or in an alternate dimension or something? Because that’s the only way I would be in a strange place, with strange men, and thinking about what their skin would feel like beneath my fingertips.

They’re both staring down at me expectantly, but it’s long moments before I realize they’re waiting for me to say something.

I swallow heavily, the pain in my throat almost makes me stop trying to speak, but I have to say something. “Where am I?” I croak. It’s as good a question as any, but not at the top of the list sitting on the tip of my tongue.

“You’re safe,” the second man tells me. Fantastic. That’s not vague at all.

“Are you in any pain?” the first one asks, and I nod immediately. God, I’m not even sure there’s a word for this kind of pain, but the soft mattress and luxurious bedding are making it a little easier on my aching body. He chuckles, the corners of his lips tipping up into a smile that lights up his whole face, and it takes my fucking breath away. “Okay, love. I’ve got some morphine here to give you. Is that okay?” He doesn’t strike me as someone who often waits for permission before doing something, and for some reason, that puts me at ease. I’ve never trusted easily because distrust comes part and parcel with the life I grew up in, so it strikes me as odd that I’ve just woken up in a strange place, surrounded by strange men, and for some reason I’m not freaking the hell out. I must have hit my head. “Love?” It’s only when he says the affectionate pet name again that I realize I’ve been staring at him blankly for God knows how long.

I nod again, not capable of forming words right now because everything fucking hurts. I can’t believe I’m going to allow a strange man to stick me with a needle full of God only knows what, but right now I need any relief I can get, and if that means trusting perfect strangers who are likely bad news, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

I look away as he prepares the needle, because although I’ve never admitted it to anyone, I’m afraid of them. It’s irrational, I know, but it’s just one of those things I could do without in my life.

The scarred man catches my eye as he looks on curiously. “Scared of needles, Little Lamb?”

It seems pointless to deny, so I nod again. My throat is dry, and it hurts to swallow, but something about the two men comforts me.

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