[Kendall]I sit at the table, absently watching Camden as he moves around the kitchen. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables, the sizzle of onions in the pan, is oddly calming.“I never learned to cook,” I admit, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “My father did all the cooking.”Camden glances over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t boil water?” he asks, teasing.I huff, half-laughing, half-defensive. “I can make boxed stuff,” I argue.He groans dramatically. “Your Italian ancestors must be rolling around in their graves when you say that.”I laugh lightly, but it’s tinged with something sad, something nostalgic. “Maybe.”Camden’s gaze drifts over the living room, where my clothes are scattered across the floor. His mouth quirks into a half-smile as he eyes the mess.“You don’t clean, either?”I pout, the teasing jab cutting deeper than I care to admit. “I do, just haven’t gotten around to it,” I say, trying to brush it off with a shrug. “My legs still don’t work.”He
“I just wanted to know if you have a girlfriend,” I ask, my voice small, unsure, as if the very question is stupid–It probably is though.Camden bursts into laughter, the sound deep and genuine, but I feel small under the weight of it. “Absolutely not.”I blink, my chest tightening. “Really? You don’t?”He shrugs, still grinning. “You know about my reputation, Kendall. You know that I don’t do relationships.”I hum softly, unsure how to respond. “Doesn’t mean you don’t have a girl who’d get mad if she knew you said that,” I tease, but the uncertainty lingers. I need to know.“Maybe,” he says with a grin. “But I don’t. Not right now.” His gaze turns intense, locking with mine. “What about you? Do you have someone at home?”“Don’t you think Elora would have told you about it?” I say, trying to deflect the question, but my voice wavers.He shrugs again. “She keeps your secrets.”“She does? News to me,” I mutter under my breath, unsure if I believe that. Camden’s eyes are still fixed on m
[Kendall]"Just close your eyes," he says. His voice sounds thick, wet, almost dripping with blood. "It'll be over soon.”~~~I wake up screaming bloody murder, the sound tearing out of my throat, raw and jagged. This time, I can’t hide it from Camden—he has to pull me into his arms, holding me tight, calming me down with his warmth, his touch.I’m trembling all over, my skin cold and clammy despite being wrapped in Camden’s strong arms. My breath is shallow, each inhale sharp and shaky as if I can’t quite pull enough air into my lungs.“What happened? Principessa, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice urgent, rough with worry. His hands rub my back in slow, soothing circles, grounding me. Each circle is like a reminder that I’m here, with him, safe.“A dream,” I breathe, forcing the words out as I struggle to catch my breath. “Just a bad dream.”Camden’s brow furrows, shadows deepening the worry in his eyes as he studies me, scanning my face with a mix of concern and something else—somet
[Camden]It’s becoming more and more clear to me that Marco isn’t going to get himself caught, and that I’m going to have to go after him. The realization is heavy, a deep ache that settles in my gut, twisting uncomfortably. I tell myself it’s because I don’t want to be stuck in safehouses or looking over my shoulder when I get home, but I know, deep down, that it’s not that.I want to kill him myself for what he’s done to Kendall. The anger is a sharp, electric pulse under my skin, coursing through my veins with every heartbeat. He’s broken her in many ways, and she seems dimmer after those nightmares—her face pale and damp with sweat in the dim morning light, her eyes darkened by the shadows of memories she shouldn’t have to carry.He’s taken a bright young girl and handed her something to be afraid of, a constant, lingering fear. I hate him for it with a depth that surprises me.It’s not because I have feelings for Kendall. That’s not possible. I don’t get feelings for women, but I
“Fuck,” I curse again, running a hand through my hair, watching her walk out onto the terrace where the pool glistens under the midday sun, the water casting faint, rippling shadows across the patio. She clearly needs some space, and I know I have to give it to her, even if my chest tightens as she walks away.I head out to the car and pull my guns from under the seat of the truck, feeling the cool weight of them in my hands. Back in the quiet of the living room, I set everything down on the coffee table and begin cleaning them, the sharp, metallic scent mixing with the faint smell of coffee and the fresh citrus from Kendall’s shampoo that still lingers in the air.The rhythmic motion of wiping and reassembling the guns steadies me, lets me focus on something other than the lingering ache of our earlier argument.But really, what do I expect? She heard me say that I’m stuck with her.Anyone’s feelings would be hurt.After about half an hour, I let out a groan, putting down the guns an
[Kendall]“Elora ?” I ask when Dante puts her on the phone.“Kendall! God, it’s so good to hear your voice,” Elora says, almost in a high-pitched squeal.I wince and move the phone from my face, laughing a little. “It has been a while,” I say.“Are you dying having to hang out with my boring, stupid brother all this time?” she asks.I think about the night before, Camden biting my neck as he thrust into me, and I blush. “He’s not so bad.”Elora scoffs. “You don’t have to lie to me. All he talks about is pussy and crime. It’s annoying.”I swallow hard at her words. Camden hasn’t said anything to me about other women, but I know his reputation. Is it possible that he’s still in contact with some of these women? Surely not, right?“Does he have a girlfriend?” I ask, looking around for Camden. He’s trailed inside, so I can speak freely.Elora snorts. “A girlfriend? Are you crazy? Camden wouldn’t be caught dead in any kind of real commitment.”“Ah,” I say dumbly, not knowing how to resp
[Camden]It’s been two weeks since the call with my sister, and Kendall is still haunted by nightmares, her sleep haunted by the lingering shadows of fear. Tonight, though, felt different—her nightmare was worse, as if it had sunk its claws in deeper. We’d both drifted off on the couch, tangled up in the shared warmth and the gentle rise and fall of each other’s breaths, but she woke gasping, her eyes wide, struggling for air as though drowning in invisible waters.“Principessa?” I murmur, my voice low, trying not to startle her. Her gaze locks onto mine, her brown eyes deep and desperate, glistening with a wild panic that claws at my chest. “Breathe, baby.” I keep my voice steady, soft, and deliberate, hoping she'll mirror me as I draw a slow breath in through my nose, then let it out. It takes a beat, but she catches on, her breaths finally syncing with mine. Her fingers dig into my arms as if I’m the only anchor keeping her from slipping away. “It’s okay, just breathe.”She le
[Camden]“Kendall,” I call, my voice steady but with a touch of urgency. “We need to talk about this. You’ll be safer there.”“I’m safe here!” she insists, her voice defiant, with a hint of desperation. “You take care of me, Camden. You’ve been there since day one.” There’s a weight to her words, an unspoken trust that makes my chest tighten. I watch her, standing a few feet away, the morning light casting a warm glow around her damp hair, the faint scent of her shampoo mingling with the coolness in the room. “I’ll still be around, Kendall,” I say, though the lie tastes bitter. I reach for her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin against my palm. “But I can do a lot more in terms of finding him if I’m not locked down here.”To be honest, I haven’t been doing much in the way of looking for Marco. It’s been a while since I called around, reaching out to the guys I used to know, the ones who still run in those circles. My fists clench. Maybe I don’t want this to end. Maybe I don’t want
[Kendall]After we’re home, our baby finds his voice and screams the night away, but just when I think I’m getting to my breaking point, Camden's there.“I’ll take him for a while,” he says, pulling our son out of my arms.I run a hand through my mussed hair, exhausted. “He was crying all night,” I say.“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asks, frowning.“You looked so peaceful,” I tell him. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”Camden snorts. “Disturb me next time, principessa. I’m his father. I can do a lot of the work.”I look at him, disbelieving. I can’t believe he’s so involved when at first, I didn’t even know if he’d stick around even if he said he would.“I’m exhausted,” I admit. “And there’s baby vomit in my hair and I’m pretty sure his diaper is full of the most heinous thing you’ve ever smelled.”Camden barks out a surprised laugh. “I’m interested in where this is going.”“But I’m so happy, Camden,” I said, tears running down my face. “I’ve never been so happy in all my life. I didn’t
KendallThe day of the wedding and everything goes wrong.It’s raining and Elora is late and I don’t know if I can go through with this.She finally shows up and her hair looks mussed and I groan.“I know you’ve got a man, you should just tell me,” I say, and she laughs.“Absolutely not. I just overslept. I’ve been single and with me, myself, and I,” she insists. “I’m so sorry, Kendall.”I haven’t seen Camden in three days and I miss him so much. We’ve been living together but I’ve been staying with my father for the last two days according to tradition.“I feel like I’m too pregnant for this dress,” I say.“You look beautiful. Camden is going to lose it the second he sees you,” she insists.°•°•°•°•°•°•°True to her words, when I walk down the aisle with Papa, Camden has a tear running down his cheek.“This dress is perfect, you are perfect,” he murmurs to me, and it reminds me of that first night, the first night he really noticed me in that dress, and I can’t help but smile, happ
Camden“If you really want to get married…” I start, but Kendall cuts me off.“I don’t care about that,” she says. “I just need to know that this isn’t drugs, so tell me all of this again when you’re off them,” she says.I sigh shallowly so that I don’t hurt myself. “It’ll be a while before I’m off all of them.”“I can wait,” she says stubbornly.So, we wait. We wait until I’m out of the hospital and then she goes to her first ultrasound and tears well in my eyes when I see pictures of the little peanut.Kendall moves in with the help of Dante and Elora and sets up my bed in the living room so that I don’t have to go upstairs. We’re sitting in the doctor’s office at her five month appointment. She’s been living with me and taking care of me all this time, even though I’m getting better now.“Can I tell you now that I love you?” I ask her, and she shakes her head.“You’re still taking pills,” she argues.I groan. “Kendall, this is getting ridiculous. You live here. You take care of m
KendallElora and I both are ordered to go home and we sleep in the same bed in my guest room, cuddled up together. We’ve been through a lot and we need that best friend comfort.When I wake, I immediately sit straight up in bed, thinking about Camden.“I have to get back to the hospital,” I mumble, and Elora yawns, grabbing my shoulder so I can’t get up.“Not yet,” she says. “You need to eat something. Have to feed that nephew of mine.”I chuckle in spite of everything. “You think it’s a boy?”“Just a hunch,” she says.“I guess we’ll see,” I say, rubbing a hand over my belly. “But shouldn’t we check on Camden?”“Mama’s up there with him now,” she says. “You don’t have to worry, she’ll call me if he sneezes.”I laugh a little. “All right. I guess I’ll eat.”My stomach feels like there’s a void in it, so I guess it’s a good idea.We walk downstairs and Marisa has made a spread that’s unbelievable.Mia is shoveling food in her face and she looks up at us and smiles.“Please sit. Maris
CamdenThe doctor comes in and I’m irritated, moving around.“Mr. Andretti, you have to stay still,” the doctor pleads. “You have tubes in your chest and they can’t be moved.”“He’s in pain,” Kendall says, seeing something on my face.“No,” I say. “I don’t want any drugs.”Kendall’s face is pleading with me. “Please, Camden. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”I sigh heavily and then groan because it hurts in my chest so much.“All right,” I croak, and the nurse puts a button in my hand.“Press this button,” she says, and when I do, something warm and relieving washes through me and my whole body relaxes. I feel myself drifting away.“Kendall,” I say, my words slurred. “Tell me that you know I love you.”“Sure,” she says, but I know that she doesn’t believe me.I struggle to say more but I can’t, I’m fading.“Camden,” she says quietly. “I—”But then I’m gone.°•°•°•°•°•°•°When I wake, Kendall isn’t in the room with me but I can still hear someone sobbing. When I turn my face, it’s El
CamdenI dream of Kendall. I dream of her with her eyes puffy from sleep, with her nightie bunched up, how she writhes beneath me. I dream of her in that little bikini she wore at the safe house, looking up at me with wide brown eyes.I remember hitting Marco, beating him so thoroughly that his face was unrecognizable. I remember Angelo’s pale, drawn face as I looked up at him. I don’t remember being hurt. I don’t know where I am when I open my eyes, looking up at the ceiling.“Camden?” someone says, some sweet voice that I know deep in my heart, and I look over to see Kendall staring at me with wide brown eyes. “Oh my god, he’s waking up,” she chokes, and I reach out for her and there’s a stab of pain in my chest that makes my breath hitch in my throat.“Principessa,” I choke out, but my mouth is so dry that I can’t make more words. I clear my throat, and as if reading my mind, Kendall brings me a glass of water with a straw.I sip it gratefully. “What happened?” I croak.“You were
Kendall I come to with Mia holding these awful smelling salts beneath my nose.“Camden,” I gasp, sitting up, and Mia struggles to her feet. She’s too pregnant to move quickly, but she does the best she can helping me up.“Go slow,” she warns, but her face is pale and I know something is wrong. I’m trying to remember what it is but passing out has made me so dizzy and fuzzy...Camden.I rush into the living room and Camden's on the couch, absolutely covered in blood. Dante and Angelo both have their hands on his back, holding pressure, and Jimmy Sawbones, the doctor to all the famiglia in the area, has just come in the door, rushing to the living room.I just stare at him, knowing that I’ll get in the way if I go over there.“Did you see the wound?” I ask Mia, and she slowly nods.“It’s bad, isn’t it?” I whisper.“It’s bad,” she agrees, and I feel faint again but I manage to keep consciousness, tears streaming down my face.“I can’t fix this,” Jimmy says almost immediately. “We have t
KendallAs soon as Camden leaves, I run upstairs to Elora’s room, banging wildly on the door.She comes to the door with her hair mussed and her eyes squinted since she hasn’t put in her contacts yet, glaring at me.“It’s seven in the goddamn morning, Kendall,” she complains, but then she sees the look on my face and stills. “What happened?”“Camden just left,” I babble. “He went after Marco.”Her green eyes widen. “Oh no, he fucking didn’t,” she curses, walking past me and running almost right into Dante. “How could you let him leave?”Dante shrugs. “I’m not his keeper.”“Don’t give me that,” she hisses. “You know going after Marco right now is suicide—”“Don’t claim to tell me what I know, Elora Andretti,” Dante says in a low voice, channeling his capo attitude, and I swallow hard.I don’t want Elora to get into trouble.“We’re just worried,” I explain, and Dante’s face softens.“I know, but you both know that Camden does what he wants. I couldn’t have stopped him if I wanted to.”
CamdenI swing by and pick up Angelo and he whistles when I open the duffel bag and show him the contents.“I’m keeping that automatic,” he says, and I snort out a laugh.“I figured.”“You don’t even have to pay me for this,” Angelo continues, hopping in the car as I shut the trunk. “I’ve been wanting to get rid of Marco Barone ever since he hit on my girlfriend.”I raise an eyebrow as I get in the car. “You don’t have a girlfriend.”“Not anymore,” he says mysteriously, and I don’t ask questions because Angelo wouldn’t tell me anyway. He keeps his personal life to himself, and I don’t blame him. In this lifestyle, it’s better to keep your mouth shut.We travel to the worst parts of the city, checking out the closest warehouse first. I’m pretty sure it’s not the one because it seems like a ghost town, and sure enough, there’s nothing but rats and mold in there.“How many of these are there?” Angelo complains.“Just three,” I answer.“Three?” he whines, always impatient, and I chuckle.