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Two cars pull up, their tires screeching. The windows roll down and I catch the glint of sunlight off metal as gun barrels aim toward me.
I throw myself to the ground. The world explodes.
Chapter40
Evander
The gunshots pop like a mountain cracking in half. I’d know the sound of semi-automatic rifle fire anywhere. A horrified chill runs down my spine, and I’m running down the stairs in a shirt and slacks, my cuffs unbuttoned, a gun clutched in my hands, roaring for my soldiers.
My heart’s racing in my chest. I can barely see straight. I keep thinking about Camille, my Camille, my wife. She ran out of the house and I let her go, thinking she needed space. Why the fuck was I so foolish?
Lycus appears at my side, looking white. “Evander,” he says.
“Where was that?” I grab him by the collar and yank him close, growling in his face. “Where is my wife?”
“It was the front gate,” Lycus says, pushing me away. “The guards out front radioed up a second before the gunfire. They have her.”
My heart stops. My guts twist. I stare at him, not breathing. “They have who?”
“Camille. She was with the guards when the attack started. Evander—”
I storm past him, sprinting out the front door. My vision tunnels. All I can think is Camille, Camille, I have to get to Camille. Someone shouts and my soldiers follow, but I’m running as hard as I can, my mind firmly on my wife.
No, no, this can’t be happening, an attack on my own fucking house?
The moment she walked away?
They must’ve been watching. Someone was assigned to keep tabs on our front gate, and when she stormed off, they must’ve called in to the Pavone bosses.
Who approved a fucking hit on my front doorstep?
I’m breathing hard as the guard house comes into view. The destruction is immediately apparent: three bodies lay on the ground, stretched out and drenched in blood, riddled with bullets. Three of my men, three of my people. I don’t have time for them though. I jump the gate, climbing over it like a madman, and drop down on the other side in a tumble. I scramble to my feet, looking around wildly.
The cars are gone. The shooters drove off. I don’t care about them. I don’t care about anything.
She has to be here. Shehasto be okay.
“Camille!” I shout into the deep, horrible silence, broken only by the groan of a guard that’s still half-alive. “Camille! Where are you!”
My soldiers appear with Lycus. The gate rolls back as I storm around, looking for her, seeing red. They tried to kill her, my wife, my Camille. They tried to kill her onmy property, in front of my own damn home.
“Camille!”
“Here.” A small voice. A small sound. It barely breaks the surface of my rage. I run to the guard house and find her curled up on the floor, staring at me with wide, terrified eyes.
Holes are punched in the walls around her. Holes inches above her head.
“Fuck,” I snarl and drop to my knees at her side. “Camille, are you okay? Are you hurt?” I pull her into my arms, holding her tight and checking her over for wounds. There’s no blood, no injury I can see.
“I’m okay,” she whispers, blinking rapidly. “I’m fine. I was in the guard house, and when the shooting started, I dropped down—” She chokes like she’s trying not to cry.
I hug her tight as my men fan out, holding her to my chest like I’m ready to put my body between her and the bullets that tried to end her life. I realize I’d do it too—I’d throw myself in front of danger for her. I’d die for her, just to give her another ten minutes of breath.
Some of the soldiers try to save the dying guards, but I can’t pay attention to that. Lycus says something and I bark at him like a wolf, which makes him back off.
There’s only Camille now and her safety.
I stand and carry her back to the house, clutching her in my arms.
