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“You made a deal, Cauldron. You have to see it through.”
“I’ll take care of Roan tomorrow. But she wants you—not me.”
One of his eyebrows cocked slightly. “Is that so?”
“You’re really going to rub it in my face?”
“My curiosity is genuine.”
This was torture. “She prefers you as a client over me. She’s said it many, many times. I can’t listen to her say it again. I’ll shoot myself between the eyes.”
Bartholomew fell into silence, his intelligent eyes seeming to be elsewhere. “Interesting. I think Camille has a taste for the criminal underworld. She was nervous at first, but then she really embraced it.”
My eyes narrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I used to put her to work. Distract men so I could get access to a corridor. Talk to one of the wives so I could do business with her husband. Sometimes things more extensive…if she was up for it.”
“So, she was your wingman?”
“Essentially.”
“And you… Did you two ever…” I couldn’t bring myself to actually ask the question.
He gave a slight smile. “I’m not the kind of man to kiss-and-tell, Cauldron. Or should I say fuck-and-gloat?”
It was like someone smashed a rock right into my heart.
“But good thing for you, there was no kissing and fucking. Well, that’s not entirely true…” He scratched his beard with his fingertips. “There was one kiss. A kiss that she turned down…because she was in love with some other guy.” He used his thumb and forefinger to mimic a gun and point it at me. “Something tells me you’re that guy.”
* * *
Grave checked the screen of his phone. “It’s Camille.”
I looked out the window of the car, staring at the building we were about to infiltrate.
“Why the fuck is she calling me right now?” With gritted teeth, he took the call. “I’m kinda in the middle of something right now—”
“I know.” Her voice could be heard in the quiet car. “Cauldron said you guys were going to get some guy tonight.”
Grave waited for her to say something more, but nothing was forthcoming. “So you decided to call me in the middle of it?”
“I just wanted to know your plan.”
“Why?” he barked. “What does it matter to you?”
“Because I don’t want you guys to get killed, maybe?” she snapped. “Can I help?”
“No,” Grave said in a bored voice. “You can’t help, Camille.”
“I’ve learned a couple things with Bartholomew, so maybe I can lend you a hand.”
Grave’s eyebrows furrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“It’s a long story—”
“Camille, I’ve got to go.”
“Wait.” Now her voice softened. “Is Cauldron with you?”
