Page 13 of From the Ashes

BISHOP

The car has barely come to a stop when I shove my door open and throw Crew’s open. I quickly reach over him and pluck Camilla out from between him and Kovu, as she giggles at their attempts to grab her before I can take off with her.

She wraps her legs around my waist as I sprint toward the stairs, not pausing until I reach the top and see the other three hot on my heels. After that performance and a week without her pretty pussy, there’s no way I’m not going to be the first one to sink into her tight heat.

I take off down the hallway toward her bedroom, feeling a foreign smile tug at my lips as she laughs and buries her face in my throat.

Her joy has something unfamiliar washing over me, but I don’t pause to let myself think about it.

I shove her bedroom door open and waste no time throwing her into the center of the bed, but she immediately reaches for me. Just as desperate for me as I am for her it would appear.

“Hands above your head, love,” I demand as I unbutton my shirt, keeping my eyes locked on her still-clothed curves. She’s so fucking pretty, I can’t believe she’s ours. Her dark hair is a messy halo of curls around her shoulders, her stormy eyes locked on every move I make.

The door slams open, but neither of us can tear our eyes off the other, too caught up in one another to pay the others any mind.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” Kovu barks at me, but I just smirk at Camilla, who giggles quietly.

“Taking my girl to bed. It’s been too fucking long since I’ve tasted your pretty pussy, hasn’t it, love?”

“Yes,” she says quietly, grasping onto the comforter above her head to stop her from moving her hands.

“Move up the bed, Camilla. Hands on the headboard,” I tell her, and she scrambles to follow my instructions.

She crawls up the bed, her hips swaying, and I catch the smallest glimpse of her lace-covered cunt as she moves. She moves to roll onto her back when she lets out a pained cry, and each of us rushes to her.

“What happened?” Crew demands, his eyes darting around the bed looking for whatever’s hurt her, while my eyes lock on where she’s grasping her shoulder.

“Is that blood?” I ask, moving around the other side of the bed.

Camilla’s eyes are closed as she breathes through whatever pain she’s in, and it’s not until I reach beneath her that I find the culprit.

A knife.

My eyes whip to Kovu’s, and anger radiates through my chest. Him and his obsession with knives are fine so long as he’s not leaving them around for Camilla to hurt herself on them. What the fuck is going to happen when we have kids running around here? We can’t risk them cutting themselves on his shit.

The thought stops me in my tracks, because I’ve never wanted kids. Not once in my life have I looked at a child and thought that’s what I wanted in my future. Why the fuck would I want to bring a baby into this world? One so full of pain and death?

Camilla pulls her hand away from her shoulder and balks at the blood, panic flaring in her eyes for a moment before they settle on Kovu. “I know you like seeing me bleed, but no knives in the bed,” she snaps, and I can’t help but chuckle as I observe the weapon in my hand.

It’s not one of his preferred knives, but maybe he’s misplaced his favorites.

When I look up at Kovu, his gaze is locked on the knife, his brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s not mine.”

I look back down at the knife, and then I notice another piece of metal on the sheets beside Camilla.

A single bullet.

I pick it up and feel every other person in the room look at me as I read the inscription that has my stomach rolling uncomfortably.

Camilla De Marco.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CAMILLA

Istare at the bullet trapped between Bishop’s fingers as silence falls upon the room. The only sound is my ragged breathing as I clutch my shoulder while we all take in the sight in front of us.

Someone was in here.

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