Chapter 5 #2
“It sounds like you’ve been through an ordeal. Is there anything I can do? Do you need anything?”
Stunned, she took a while to form a response. She’d needed something years and years ago. Something like … a father.
“I’m… No. I don’t need anything from you.”
Why was he calling her? Acting like he cared? He’d proven he didn’t time and again. What was more, she’d finally accepted it, for the most part. Ages ago. The only question was why she was still on the phone with him.
“Please don’t call me again,” she said, her voice hard, as cold as she could make it. She held the receiver out to Nate to hang up as a wave of nausea overcame her.
Nate hung up and then, instead of returning to his chair as she wanted him to, he stood close. Sophie worked to force down her reaction. Of all the times her dad could crash back into her life, he had to choose now, when Nate was here.
I just learned your name — here’s my dirty laundry.
He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, without a word. She braced herself for his questions, because how could you witness that phone call, after she’d said she had no family, and not ask questions?
“I haven’t talked to him for over two years, when he called to congratulate me on an industry award I won.
Before that, it was over ten years,” she said, letting her hair fall like a privacy curtain over the side of her face.
“I definitely don’t consider him family if you’re wondering why I said I have none. ”
“I understand.” Nate pulled the chair near her shoulders, sat on it, and ran his fingers over her hand, back and forth, conveying without words that he was on her side. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had someone on her side. She liked it, and yet it made her uncomfortable.
“So anyway,” she said, shifting to sit up straighter, mostly as an excuse to pull her hand away from his. “You were telling me what you know about the fire.”
He stared at her for a moment, maybe debating whether he’d let her get away with the subject change.
“Mrs. Forester?” she reminded him.
His expression changed, and she could tell he’d flipped back into business mode.
“I don’t think it was Mrs. Forester,” Nate said, fidgeting.
He lowered his voice and leaned closer, elbows on his thighs, hands rubbing over his stubbled jaw.
“Look, Sophie, if I tell you more, you have to swear not to breathe a word of it. Not to anyone. I could get in trouble at work.”
“Of course. Who would I tell anyway?” She gestured to the empty room.
“Even once you’re out of here. Not a word.”
A thread of cold fear crept through her gut. Sophie nodded.
Nate stood again and walked to the door. He shut it quietly and came back to the side of the bed. This time, he sat on the mattress instead of the chair.
“As I said, they’re waiting for tests to come back as conclusive evidence,” he said, keeping his voice so quiet she had to strain to hear, “but they suspect the fire was arson.”
The thread of fear expanded to fill her like a block of concrete. “Someone … did that on purpose?”
“It appears that way.” There was a hard edge to his voice, and his jaw was set. “Son of a bitch deserves to burn alive.”
She closed her eyes, trying to absorb the news.
“They just destroyed … so much…” Her office, her computer, most of her paper records, her sketches and blueprints for all of the current projects…
Yes, she did a lot of her work online, and she could access most of that from the laptop she’d kept at home, but there were drawers full of her three-year-old company in that one office suite, and it was all gone.
She bit down on the inside of her mouth until it bled. “I’ll be the one to light the bastard on fire. Are there suspects?” A firing squad would also work, but only if she got to fire the gun.
“Not to my knowledge. Shit, Sophie, maybe I shouldn’t have told you—”
“No, it’s fine. I needed to know.”
“It’s a lot to absorb. Do you have friends you could call for moral support once it becomes public knowledge?”
She thought of Iona. Yeah, things had changed for the better today, but Sophie couldn’t see whining about this to her. “I’ll be okay, Nate. Thank you for telling me.”
“When the investigator gets the test results back, he and probably the fire chief will come in to tell you. You can’t let on that you already know.”
“I won’t.”
He stared at her, his eyes narrowed with doubt.
“I won’t, Nate. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“It’ll become a criminal investigation—”
“I understand.” She sat up straighter and touched his arm, an uncharacteristic gesture for her, but she wanted to reassure him since he’d put himself on the line for her.
More than once.
He twisted his arm and took her hand in his, the cords of muscle in his forearm shifting impressively beneath her fingers.
“I told you because I want you to be careful, especially once you leave here tomorrow.”
Sophie frowned and took in the contrast of their hands — his long, capable fingers dwarfing her whole petite hand. Normally, she felt so competent, able to handle whatever she needed to by herself, but a wave of weakness rolled over her.
Why would someone set her building on fire? Had they targeted her specifically? There were seven other suites, all of them but one occupied, so anyone could’ve been the target. Had it been random? The questions were too frightening to utter out loud.
She nodded. “I’ll be careful. I always am.”
“I’m picking you up tomorrow.”
“There’s no need—”
“I’m going to make sure you get home safely.” His jaw was set stubbornly, and his eyes penetrated hers, warning that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
And while part of her reveled in the way he seemed determined to continue this … whatever was going on between them, another, bigger part of her was more than a little scared.