Page 16 of From the Ashes

“And whose fault is that?” Crew snaps. “He’s been dead three years. Three fucking years we thought he was gone. Three fucking years each of us mourned him. Where the hell has he been? How did he survive? And why didn’t he ever think to tell us he was alive?”

When he puts it like that, it seems even worse.

Kaos’s jaw tics, something it normally does a moment before he loses his shit, but then he looks away from Crew, breaking the intense staring contest they had going. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t fucking know. None of it makes any sense to me.”

His voice cracks, and I glance back toward the door my little lamb is on the other side of. Perhaps I should go get her. She always seems to be able to calm us down. Maybe there’s something she could say or do that will help him see that we can’t let this stand. Not if we want to keep our girl safe.

“In the interest of being overly cautious, we can’t go back to the compound or to any of the safe houses until Wyatt has a chance to update all security protocols. I won’t risk any of our safety, especially Camilla.” Crew’s eyes move to the same door mine did a few moments ago before he lets out a breath. “I don’t want to believe that my brother is capable of any of this anymore than you do, Kaos. But at some point, we’re going to have to accept the facts as they’re laid in front of us.”

He glares at him for a moment before giving him a sharp nod. “I know.”

“So where do we go?” I ask.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CAMILLA

Istare up at the ten-story walk-up that looks like it probably should have been demolished a decade ago before looking back to Crew.

“We still own this place?” Bishop asks, his voice as uncertain as I feel. I can’t say I’ve ever ventured into this part of the city, but from the maps spread on my father’s home office wall, I’m almost certain this is no man’s land.

There are a few corners of the city that none of the five families claimed when the Syndicate was formed for whatever reason, and while some have become neutral territory, others have been left to waste away, like the block we’ve found ourselves on.

We’re in Brooklyn, or at least I’m pretty sure we are. I napped on the drive over as the painkillers Elias gave me made me drowsier than I cared to admit at the time, so I can’t be totally sure where we are.

“Where is here exactly?” I ask, shucking the sling Elias demanded I wear, but it’s already annoying the hell out of me, and it’s only been an hour.

“Welcome to where we grew up, love.” Bishop takes my good hand and drags me up the steps and to the steel door. There’s a glass panel that someone has tried to break, the shattered glass barely holding on. To my right is a panel of apartment numbers, but Crew steps past us and unlocks the door with a key I didn’t notice him pull out.

None of us say a word as we trudge up flight after flight of stairs, once again reminding me how out of shape I’ve gotten. The second we’re back at the compound, I’m getting back into the gym.

By the time we reach the top floor, I can’t even pretend I’m not out of breath, and Crew is a little sluggish. He shouldn’t even be out of bed, but try telling him that.

He steps ahead of the rest of us and unlocks the door at the end of the hallway, stepping aside so we can each enter the small apartment.

I dart my eyes over the space, intrigued to see where the men of the Legion lived before they took their place at the top of the food chain.

The apartment is clean, almost too clean, considering no one has lived here in years. There’s a small table to the left, with a tiny but functional kitchen beyond that, and on the right is a sectional couch with two doors on the other side of it. One I assume is a bedroom, and the other a bathroom.

“You all lived here?” I ask before I can catch the question.

Thick arms wrap around my middle, and I settle back against Kovu’s body. “Sure did, Little Lamb. It’s a far cry from the compound, huh?”

I nod against his chest. It must have been quite the adjustment for them going from a one-bedroom apartment to that huge building that I still haven’t seen all of even after two months with them.

Crew locks the door and steps past us, settling into one of the wooden chairs around the table. “I kept this place off our books, just in case. No one knows about it, but it didn’t feel right to get rid of the place.”

I watch as Bishop and Kaos each look around the familiar space, and I try to imagine them here as kids. A mini version of Bishop with intense green eyes playing with a pile of old blocks, while Kaos’s dark eyes watch. He’s a couple of years older than his cousin, and I can imagine he took that role very seriously when it came to keeping him safe.

A small smile tugs at my lips when I think about Kovu walking in for the first time. I don’t know much about his childhood, only that Crew adopted him when he was twelve, and his life before that was traumatic.

“Are you sure it’s safe here?” Bishop asks.

“It’s as good as we’re going to get right now.”

I yawn and nestle further into Kovu’s chest. I’m wedged between him and Bishop, their bodies surrounding me in the only bed in the apartment, while Crew is on the couch and Kaos took an air mattress that seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

The bed isn’t nearly as comfortable as the one at the compound, but I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter where I am, as long as I’m with them, I’m at ease.

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