Page 67 of From the Ashes

The cool grass beneath my body sends a shiver down my spine as I desperately try to think through my options. There are too many guns on us. That much I’m certain of. Even being as well trained as I am, and that I know the guys are, getting out of here unscathed when we’re all unarmed is next to impossible.

A hand grasps the back of my head and drags me up, forcing me to look at Caleb moving the gun between the four of them.

“You know the drill, Camilla. Choose, or you’re all dead.”

Dread pools in my belly as tears gather at the corners of my eyes. Fuck.

Out of time.

Out of options.

Out of luck.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

KOVU

Choose me.

She has to choose me.

It makes sense that I die.

I’ve already lived longer than I should have.

After all the beatings I took, all the scars that cover my body, everything Caleb said is true. I’d terrify a child, and after my own upbringing, I have no business being anyone’s parent.

Which makes me useless to Camilla.

She needs an heir. There’s no two ways about it. She has to procreate to continue the De Marco lineage, to make sure she has someone to hand her legacy down to, and that’s not something I’m ever going to be able to give her.

I keep my eyes locked on my little lamb and on the distress that clouds her features. I hate that she’s in this position because of us. I hate that, despite how hard we’ve tried to keep her safe, all we seem to do is put her in more danger. And I fucking hate that she’s going to have to live with the guilt of this decision, regardless of what she chooses.

But it needs to be me.

A rough sob escapes her throat despite her best efforts to hold her emotions at bay. “I can’t.” She shakes her head. “I can’t do it. Please just kill me. Please.”

“No!” I snap. “It has to be me. Choose me, Camilla. Kill me.”

She shakes her head as another sob rises to the surface and a wave of tears fall against her cheeks. Normally, I love to see her cry, but not right now. Not in a situation like this.

“Camilla!” Crew growls. “Pick me. I’ve lived a good life. The others can give you longer than I can. You know it’s the right choice.”

Her entire body trembles as the guy in the ski mask behind her drags her to her feet, forcing her closer to us. She kicks out at him, clawing at his arms, driving her elbows back, but she’s too panicked. She’s not thinking clearly, which means she has no hope of overpowering him.

“I can’t.” She chokes on her cries.

Caleb laughs, the sound bouncing off the gravestones that surround us. He’s a sick son of a bitch for putting her through this, but what more did I expect from a man who faked his own death? “You know what the options are, Camilla.”

There’s a moment when she meets my eyes that I see the decision staring back at me, but it’s the wrong one. Any choice that doesn’t see a bullet through my brain is the wrong one, but this is worse. This is unthinkable, even to me.

So quickly you’d miss it with a single blink.

Camilla knocks the guy behind her on his ass and kicks the gun from his hand before she throws herself toward Caleb.

He turns the gun on her, and for a moment, the whole world goes quiet. The past melts away. And all I can see is a future without my little lamb. And it’s fucking torture.

Without thinking, I shove myself to my feet and tackle Caleb, taking him to the ground easily as I wrestle him for the gun as best I can with my arms tied together in front of me.

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