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She did this.
She killed my father.
After all we’ve given her. After all we’ve done for her. She’s betrayed us.
Crew never gets the chance to pull the trigger because, before I’m even aware of what I’m doing, I draw my gun and fire it right between her eyes.
Her body crumples to the ground at the same time my knees give way beneath me.
In the space of a few minutes, I’ve lost everything.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
CAMILLA
The ringing in my ears is so intense I can barely pry my eyes open, but it’s the pain in the back of my head that gives me no other choice.
Something happened. I know it did. But I can’t quite grasp onto the memory.
We were ambushed at the shipping yard and barely escaped to the safe house. What happened after that?
I rack my brain and come up empty for long moments, and then the memory of Crew’s body pinning mine to the door flashes through my mind and leaves me breathless, and then it all comes streaming back.
Elias and Leighton.
Resting on the couch.
The sound I heard.
The explosion.
I pry my eyes open and find Crew leaning out the doorway, his gun poised toward the bedroom door.
My eyes fall closed, and on my next blink, I realize we’re inside the closet.
Gunfire fills the small space, and I shove myself up onto my elbows, trying to assess how badly I’m hurt. My body is a little achy, and my arm is killing me, but it seems my head took the brunt of it.
Crew pops off a couple of shots, and the sound makes me wince, but I can’t allow myself to rest right now. There will be time for that, but it’s not right now.
I need a gun.
I shove myself up as carefully as I can, making sure to keep my head as steady as possible. I don’t think I have a spinal cord injury, but with the amount my body has been through today, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was masking the pain until the fresh adrenaline wears off.
But before I can think to move or think about where they would have a firearm stashed, I hear Crew’s grunt of pain, and my eyes flash up to him.
He gets off a return shot just before his body falls to the ground, and I can’t swallow the scream that tears from my throat. Panic rages through my body as I launch myself forward, throwing my body on top of his and prying the gun from his hand.
“No!” I shout, pressing my palm into the middle of his chest to try to stop the bleeding, but dark crimson immediately pools over my hand.
Fuck.
This is bad.
Really fucking bad.
“Hold on, Crew,” I whisper as I grasp the only item of clothing I can reach, a T-shirt, and place it where my hand was, applying pressure. I need to get him out of here, but I have no fucking idea how many more men there are.
Footsteps in the hallway drag my attention away from Crew, and I keep one hand pressed on the T-shirt while the other lifts the gun toward the doorway.
