3. Sophie
3
Sophie
é stupida.
My behavior last night was unacceptable. I put myself in unnecessary danger and caught the eye of someone I could only assume was a perverted criminal.
And yet, even as I thought it, my cheeks heated. Ugh.
I fumbled with my purse as I crossed the street toward the Third Precinct. Technically I was half an hour late, but no one would notice. Not since my previous captain had been fired after his indiscretions came to light… at the behest of my best friends’ safety.
The precinct was still inside out. It didn’t feel like a comforting work environment anymore. My best friends were gone, and I had parted ways with my ex who was only a quick drive away. So really, what was I still holding on to here?
I came to a halt at the bottom of the steps leading into the precinct, my hackles rising as I got the distinct feeling of being watched. Slowly, I pivoted, my eyes scanning the sidewalk opposite me. There was only one man talking on his phone, his eyes catching on mine momentarily before he turned away. I committed his profile to memory before scurrying inside, wondering if he was affiliated with the stranger who half assaulted me the night before.
You let him , my brain reminded me. Which, to be fair, I did because he had a gun to my head, not because I wanted to. Or did I? Fuck, I was confusing myself.
When I got to my office, I peered out the window, as if that would somehow help me find who was watching me, but all I saw was the same man from minutes before leaning against a lamppost… staring up at me with a wry smile.
I skirted out of view before collapsing at my desk. My gut was telling me I was being followed by my stranger’s lackeys.
My stranger.
Dios mio.
***
Three men rotated on shifts to watch me. From home to work, out in the field on cases, back and forth on leads. Every. Single. Fucking. Day.
They kept a considerable distance, never close enough for me to confront without making a scene. Yet they were there. Eyes on me at all times.
Clearly this man was powerful and dangerous enough that he had hired men to keep tabs on me. What I couldn’t figure out was why. What about me caught his attention? Why did he care? And how did he know who I was ?
The questions bothered me all day and night, for weeks. Plaguing me until I was restless at night and distracted at work. Then one late evening I was walking home from the bar. One man—my favorite, whom I had nicknamed Scar because of the raised skin slashing down one gorgeously dark-skinned cheek—had waited in his car across the street, subtly watching me.
Maybe to a normal person they wouldn’t notice being followed at a distance. But in my job? It was pretty fucking hard not to notice.
It had been three weeks, and what had started as a morbid curiosity to see if Mr. Suit's interest in me would fade quickly turned into a simmering anger that my privacy was being violated.
I left the bar, choosing to walk home rather than call an Uber, and darted in and out of the shadows. Only the occasional sound of another set of steps alerted me to the other man’s presence—not even so much as a shadow followed Scar as he stalked me through the dark, damp streets of Newark.
In a split-second decision, I turned a corner and ducked into the alcove of a closed store’s entry, waiting for him to catch up with me. After nearly a minute of me holding my breath, he passed by my hiding spot and glanced around. I stepped out of the shadows behind him, stepping lightly on the balls of my feet to stay quiet.
“Let me talk to your boss,” I snarled.
He whirled on me with his hands raised, probably expecting me to be pointing my gun at him. I thought about it but decided to try this civilly first. It was rather kind of me, considering I’d had a few drinks, and dark fury was building in my bones.
“Sorry, ma’am, I’m under strict orders,” Scar’s gravelly voice sounded like a rake over coals.
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Don’t care. You and those other guys have been following me for weeks. I want to know why your pervy boss is having me followed.”
He chuckled. “He’s not exactly the kind of man you ask those questions.”
“Like I said, I. Don’t. Care. Let me talk to him. He told me if I returned to Queens that it could only be to see him, so I’d like to arrange a time to meet him,” I bluffed, knowing damn well I did not want to see him.
Those must have been the magic words, though, because Scar’s eyebrows rose as he slowly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. A few taps later and he was dialing someone.
“Boss. Detective Reyes would like to speak with you,” was all he said before he thrust his phone out to me. I scowled when the name read Boss’s Boss instead of an actual name I could use to ream this guy’s ass.
I snatched the phone from him before I could talk myself out of it and barked, “Stop having me followed, you creep.” Scar’s eyes widened as he lunged to take the phone back, but I stumbled away from him as a dark chuckle filtered through the receiver.
“You’ve got some nerve, Sophie. To what do I the pleasure of this phone call?” The menace in his tone had my stomach bottoming out from nerves that I was going to piss this man off.
“I’m calling to tell you to leave me alone. I’m not a fan of having my privacy invaded.”
“Do you see the irony, Detective? You came into my territory first. I’m simply repaying the favor.”
If he were here, I would be glaring daggers at his stupidly good-looking face. I said through gritted teeth, “It was a misunderstanding. You laid your ground rules and I’ve respected them. Now back off. ”
“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong,” he said, his words clipped. “You approached one of my men and told him the one thing that would make him call me. Are you wanting to meet on neutral ground, Detective?”
I stilled, my eyes flicking to Scar as he glowered at me. “How was I supposed to know that?”
“You weren’t, but you were just being a brat to get your way. Tell me, does it usually work for you?”
My cheeks heated, and my words lodged themselves in my throat.
“I’m waiting.”
“Yes,” I muttered, the words like sandpaper on my tongue as I forced myself to tell him what he wanted to hear.
He hummed. “Next time you want my attention, all you have to do is ask.”
My face warmed further, lighting me on fire from the suggestive promise. Stop thinking about that.
“I have to go,” I murmured before thrusting the phone back at Scar and half running down the street, not caring that he was most likely following me. My heartbeat was in my ears, and it was all I could hear.
What if it hadn’t been Scar, or one of his other guys, following me? What if I’d just jumped out at some random creep who was tailing me? Would I have shot them? Probably… it wouldn’t be the first time.
The cool night air helped calm the raging storm inside me. How badly had I just fucked up?