Page 41 of We Will Rise

We’re yet to convince any of the women to change into the clothes that were brought for them, but most have eaten some of the pizza we ordered and have had at least one bottle of water.

A black SUV pulls up at the gates, and I move toward it, my hand wrapped around my gun in my waistband. I’m not willing to take any chances with these women, and while we’re out here in the open, I’m on edge.

The four doors open at once, and I pause in place, ready to pull my gun, but then Rayne Saint James appears, his almost black eyes meeting mine with a small smirk. He’s wearing a pair of cargo pants and a tight black Henley, which seems to be his uniform if every time we’ve met is anything to go by.

On the other side of the car, Elijah Russo stands in a similar outfit to his brother-in-law, his gaze moving over the area.

The two men turn from me and that’s when I notice their wives stepping out from behind the back doors.

We haven’t spent much time around the Saint James women aside from Wynter, but if I remember correctly, the one with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes is Snow Saint James, Rayne’s youngest sister, and the woman cradling her pregnant belly is Emerson, Rayne’s wife. Her auburn hair is pulled up on top of her head, and her green eyes are already locked on the women huddled together behind me.

“Never thought I’d see the day Kovu Black was protective of anything other than the other members of the Legion,” Elijah comments, and I turn a glare on him.

“Even the mightiest of us fall,” Bishop says from behind me, and I look over my shoulder at him as he approaches with Camilla wrapped around his torso. Today has been hard on her, and honestly, I get it. She may have been trained for this world, but there’s no amount of training that can prepare you for what we’ve seen today. “Camilla De Marco, this is Rayne and Emerson Saint James, and you’ve met Elijah, but this is his wife, Snow Russo.”

“Actually, I’m still a Saint James,” Snow pipes up with a hand on her hip.

“No, you’re fucking not,” Elijah growls. “Why haven’t you lodged the paperwork again?”

She shrugs, but there’s a small smile playing on her lips as she walks past her husband toward us.

I step forward and unlock the gate, allowing the four of them to pass by me before I lock it again, my eyes moving over the street beyond.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Camilla says softly. “I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“I’m sure there will be a chance in the future,” Snow tells her as I turn back to them. “I’m honestly surprised these guys found someone who could handle all their crazy.”

Camilla’s laugh escapes her throat before she can catch it. “You just have to match their crazy, that’s the key.”

Emerson leans into Rayne’s side, and he drops his hand to her swollen belly, causing Camilla to follow the movement.

“How far along are you?”

“Seven months,” Emerson beams. “Any further along, and there’s no way this one would have let me travel.”

“I barely let you travel regardless,” Rayne grumbles.

“I’m glad you could,” Camilla admits, her eyes finally lifting from Emerson’s stomach, and something shifts in my chest. Is that something she wants? A baby? With us?

The thought would have terrified me before I met my little lamb, but now? Now the idea of planting my seed inside her and her belly swelling with my baby has some appeal. A lot of fucking appeal.

“The guys told me you’re a counselor?”

Emerson nods. “I am. Fully qualified as of a couple of months ago. I’ve dealt with a few trafficking cases unfortunately, but I hope that means I’ll be able to help these women.” Her gaze flicks to the group, and the sadness that appears makes Rayne pull her harder against him.

I glance over at Bishop, whose eyes are locked on where Rayne is holding her stomach, and a smirk tugs at my lips of its own accord.

I think we might be on the same page when it comes to the next steps with our girl.

I just hope she’s on board with the plan.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CAMILLA

Iwatch as Emerson approaches the group of women with Snow hot on her heels. They’re both dressed in yoga pants and a sweater to combat the cool afternoon chill that comes off the water.

“Wynter wanted to come as well, but baby Summer is still too young to travel or be away from Mom,” Elijah tells me, and I startle, not realizing he’d moved to stand beside me. “She’s done this more than the other women have, but honestly, Rayne and Storm are the most well versed. The number of women they’ve saved over the years is much higher than any of the rest of us.”

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