Page 44 of We Will Rise

I lift my arm and beckon her closer, reveling in the feel of her weight as soon as she settles in my lap. “What are you doing up, Princess?” I press a kiss to her temple.

“I can’t stop seeing that ship,” she whispers. “Every time I close my eyes, it’s all I see.”

I wrap both arms around her and hold her close against my chest while I look over her shoulder at Bishop, who can’t take his eyes off our girl.

“How could someone do that to them? Emerson and I finally managed to get some details from the girls that were hesitant. Lisa is only sixteen, and the things they did to her—” She chokes on a sob that makes my chest ache. “I don’t know how she’s going to come back from it. I don’t think I could.”

I breathe out a steadying breath, forcing my own anger to the back of my mind. I’ll make Charles and Caleb pay for whatever part they played in this, but for right now, I need to support Camilla.

“The fact they’re opening up at all speaks volumes for how strong they are. We’ll make sure Lisa has everything she could possibly need to get through this,” I promise. Apart from a few women at Charles’s strip clubs and brothels over the years, we haven’t really encountered anything even close to this, but Rayne and Elijah have been instrumental in ensuring we know how to deal with this once they go home, which hopefully won’t be for a few days.

Camilla nods against my chest, and I hold her closer.

The sooner we end this, the sooner we can start the rest of our lives, which means I want this done. I want them dead. I want my girl safe. And I want her permanently attached to us so there’s no way she can run.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CREW

Leaving the estate without Camilla is like leaving one of my limbs behind.

I hate to admit how vulnerable she makes us, but I’m done fighting it. The fact I ever thought I’d be able to let her go is laughable, especially now I can barely let her out of my sight.

But just because we’ve found the woman of our dreams, doesn’t mean our business stops. And that means when one of the five families calls upon us, we have to show.

Kovu and I are meeting with Miriam Sterling about a grievance she’s having with the Thornes, and I’m already dreading every second of the interaction.

Miriam is old school, probably the most so out of the group. Christopher Knight isn’t far behind, but he can see the benefit of doing things in a different way than what he’s used to. Miriam is just straight-up stubborn, and dealing with her becomes more tiresome with every year that passes.

We keep hoping she’s going to retire and hand things over to her son, Donovan, but she seems hesitant to even begin the process of giving him more responsibility.

Kovu pulls the car into the parking lot of the club Miriam runs most of her business through. It’s been around for decades, and she’s allowed Donovan to have enough input to keep the place modern to ensure patrons continue to come through the door. If only she would hand some of the drug operation to him, perhaps then she’d stop cutting corners to save money, and we’d have fewer overdoses on our hands.

That’s part of the reason we’re here. Knight came to us a few days ago about a number of his customers being in the hospital after a bad batch of cocaine hit the street.

“Are you sure I can’t just kill her?” Kovu asks.

“No.”

“No, I can’t kill her, or no, you’re not sure?”

“No, you can’t kill her.” I glare across the car at him.

“No one would miss her. Not even her son gives a fuck about the old bat.”

“That may be the case, but if we start killing members of the five families without due cause, we’re going to find ourselves in more hot water than we’re already in.”

Kovu sighs. “You know, if we’d killed Davenport when I wanted to, we would be in significantly less trouble than we’re in right now.”

I’m about to argue when I realize he’s right.

We should have taken care of that particular issue when we had a chance, and then perhaps Caleb wouldn’t have a sidekick in his little vendetta.

“Let’s get this over with,” I grumble, pushing the passenger side door open and making my way toward the front door.

Kovu is hot on my heels, his eyes moving over the busy street for potential threats, and while I don’t think they’d be stupid enough to hit us in the open like this, they did blow up Kovu’s car last week. They’re becoming bolder, and that means they have something big up their sleeves.

We only make it a few steps through the door before Donovan appears from behind the bar, his light gray suit as well-fitted as my own. His amber eyes lock on the door behind us as it swings shut before focusing on me.

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