Page 5 of We Will Rise

The moment the door opens and we step inside, I’m assaulted by Kovu. His scent, the memory of his presence, his mess.

Bishop sets me on the edge of the bed before stepping away from me.

I fall to my side, the familiar sheets engulfing me as I reach for Kovu’s pillow and drag it against my chest. I need to be close to him.

And then it hits me all over again.

This is as close as I’m ever going to be to him.

This is as good as it gets.

I hear Crew and Kaos come in, but I can’t force my eyes open to look at them. If I open my eyes, it makes all of this real, and I’m not ready to accept that.

I just need a little longer believing he’s going to walk through the door and say some batshit crazy thing that I’ll find wildly attractive, even if logically I know that’s never going to happen again.

Someone brushes their finger down my arm, but they make no attempt to pry the pillow from my arms, as if they know how badly I need to feel close to Kovu right now.

There’s a part of me that feels guilty that I’m not comforting them. Crew just lost a son. Kaos and Bishop just lost a brother. I can’t imagine the pain they’re in, but surely it has to be worse than my own. And yet they’re here, looking after me like they always do.

“Love?” Bishop murmurs from beside me. “How about we get you out of that dress and into one of Kovu’s shirts?”

I force my sore eyes open and meet his worried green ones. I’ve never seen him look quite as dejected as he does now, and I long to make it better. I long to take all of our pain away.

I nod, holding the pillow tighter as I allow him to help me to sit back up.

Crew appears beside him, his mismatched eyes soft as he stares down at me with a Bon Jovi shirt in his hand.

The bed dips behind me, and Kaos’s fingers brush down the length of my spine as his too-big hands fumble with the tiny zipper I struggled with earlier.

It feels like such a long time ago, but it was just a few hours.

They work as one to undress me, never forcing me to drop the pillow clutched to my chest, even though it makes it harder for them to do what they need to do.

Once I’m dressed in nothing but Kovu’s shirt, Crew draws back the covers and helps me get settled while the other two undress to just their boxer briefs.

“Are you going to do some work now?” I croak as Crew swipes at my damp cheeks.

He shakes his head. “No. My family needs me more than the business does right now.”

Something deep inside me settles knowing that, at least for a little while, I’ll know the three of them are safe, and I have a feeling that’s the only way I’ll ever be able to rest from now on.

Because now I know how easily I can lose them, I’m fucking terrified to ever feel like this again.

CHAPTER THREE

BISHOP

Nothing ever prepares you for loss.

My entire life we’ve lived in danger. The number of times each of us could have been killed would scare most normal people, and yet losing Kovu is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

I thought because we lost Caleb, or at least we thought we did, that it would prepare me for the future. But fuck, this is different.

Maybe it’s because I expected to outlive my uncle. He’s a decade older than Crew and always drank more than he should, while the rest of us preferred to live a healthier lifestyle.

But regardless, losing Kovu feels like losing an extension of myself, and watching Camilla fall apart right in front of my eyes is only intensifying the pain.

I curl myself tighter around her, holding her against my chest while Crew nestles against her back. Kaos has his head resting on her legs, but he’s yet to allow his own eyes to fall closed.

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