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Anger flares to life in his eyes as they dart to Knox before falling right back to me. “You’ve been keeping my wife from me. I should have known you had her. I should have fucking known by your refusal to help me find her.”
A growl climbs into my throat, and I’m powerless to swallow it down. “She’s not your wife,” I bark. “Your contract with her father died the day he did. How many fucking times do you need that explained to you?”
Davenport stands so quickly the metal chair falls backward. The metallic clang of it hitting the ground bounces off the small concrete space. He advances on me so quickly that my aching head almost misses the move altogether, and a moment later, a barrel is pressed against my temple. “I don’t give a fuck what you say. The contract I had with De Marco didn’t state that he needed to be alive for the terms to be carried out.”
“Boss,” Knox grunts a warning, and Davenport stares me down for another few seconds before he drops the gun to his side.
“None of that matters now anyway, because now we’re going to do a new deal.”
“What deal?” I ask, the pounding in my head intensifying until I can barely stand it. Whoever hit me got me fucking good.
“Your life for Camilla’s, of course.”
My eyes widen, and panic assaults me. I’m not someone who has ever been much of a worrier, but she brings it out in me. She makes me possessive and protective, and the idea of her falling into his hands makes me equally as terrified as it does furious.
Davenport chuckles, his dark eyes shining with pure evil. Just when I thought we were as soulless as it gets, this asshole comes in and takes the cake. He leans forward, his cold gaze meeting mine and a smirk toying on his lips. “I hope you didn’t get too attached.”
Before I have a chance to respond, a sharp pain in the back of my head that feels all too similar to the one at the warehouse bursts through my brain.
The last thought I have before the darkness engulfs me is of my sweet Camilla and how I’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
CREW
“How the fuck did they get them out without us seeing?” I bark.
It’s been over an hour since Bishop and Kaos went dark, and we’re no closer to finding them than we were when Kovu noticed the signals had disappeared from the screen.
No one responds to me because we have no fucking idea how this happened.
We brought in all our allies today, and yet somehow not one of them saw Davenport slip out of the warehouse with not one of us, but two.
And that’s not even considering how they physically got Kaos out. He’s fucking huge and not easy to move. I can say from experience after my brother died that when he got wasted to deal with the pain and passed out, it took all three of us to carry him, and even then, it was fucking hard.
Wyatt taps on a laptop in the van Kovu and I were stationed in when they went missing. His dirty blonde hair is messy from how many times he’s swiped his hands through it, and his deep-blue eyes grow more worried each time they flick toward me.
He owns the Scarlet Lounge, the club we use for our private meetings on neutral territory, and he also happens to be very fucking good at hacking. When we made the deal with him and his best friend Elias all those years ago, I never realized how useful they would both end up being and how many times the two of them would save our asses.
“I think they had a vehicle inside. All the cameras on the street behind the warehouse were conveniently disabled, but my first glimpse of them on a traffic cam a few blocks away is a car that wasn’t in the vicinity, according to all the guys we’ve spoken to.”
I sigh and rub my hand over my face. This isn’t the first time one of us has been taken hostage, and it probably won’t be the last, but there’s something that’s unsettling me, something I can’t quite put my finger on.
We still haven’t been able to confirm if Davenport knows we have Camilla, but assuming he does, we should have gotten a call from him by now about an exchange. There’s no way he could possibly know how deeply each of us has come to care for the woman he was supposed to marry, which is both a blessing and a curse. He’ll likely expect us to hand her over with no questions asked, but the thought of her in his hands, of her fire dimming as he forces it out of her…I fucking hate the idea, and an uneasy feeling grows in my stomach.
The back doors of the van tear open, and Kovu appears, anger radiating off him as he stomps up the step. He’s taking Bishop’s and Kaos’s disappearance personally because he was the one watching the trackers, but there was nothing he could have done. After this, we’re all getting trackers under our skin, I don’t give a fuck what they say. Now that they’ve cottoned on to the rings, we need a new place for them, and on our person is better than another piece of jewelry.
“Anything?” he rumbles.
Wyatt shrugs and reiterates what he’s just told me, adding that he’s continuing to track the car he believes they’re in.
“Fuck!” Kovu roars, but this time when he storms out of the van, he leaves everything in one piece. Something to be grateful for, I suppose.
Another hour passes, and every minute that goes by feels longer than the last.
Where the hell are they?
And why haven’t we heard from Davenport?
