Chapter 9
9
S ofia drew the image on the napkin with an intensity that would have surprised her under other circumstances.
But this was her life at the moment.
Drawing the same image over and over.
It was almost... frenetic. A way to exercise old demons. And yet, they still haunted her.
Along with her newer demons.
God, she was drowning in problems, worries, and issues. They kept piling up higher and higher until the stress erupted.
She wasn’t able to sleep. Even her nightmares were an uncontrolled mess, the past leaking into the present.
Dead eyes staring at her. Pleading with her.
Asking her to change the past.
Only... sometimes they weren’t Dima’s eyes. Sometimes, those eyes morphed into something else.
Someone else.
It didn’t help that she was now short on staff with both Dima and Boris gone. She didn’t want to ask Sacha what had happened to Boris.
Sometimes, she was better off not knowing.
“What are you drawing?”
She let out a small cry and grabbed the napkin, covering it with her hand as she glanced up into a familiar face.
“Detective Maran, what are you doing here?”
It wasn’t the most polite greeting she could have given him, so she followed it up with what she hoped looked like a happy smile.
Well, at least a polite smile.
Sacha was going to flip out if the detective kept talking to her. He hated that he was a semi-regular here. But Detective Maran was no fool.
He knew who she was. And he likely knew what happened out the back. But so far, he hadn’t found any proof.
And Sofia wasn’t about to be the one who helped him in his quest for the truth.
“I came in for dinner. That’s not a problem, is it?”
“Of course not. Has Emma seen you to a table?” she asked.
It was quieter now, which is why Sofia had taken a break. It wasn’t like she could really concentrate anyway.
On anything at the moment.
She was just a mess of emotions and reactions. Sacha was in overprotective mode. He hadn’t allowed her to move back out of the big house yet.
Probably because of the nightmares she had every night.
She’d tried to stay awake for as long as possible, hoping she’d be so exhausted that she wouldn’t dream.
Unfortunately, that didn’t really seem to be working out well.
So then she’d tried to go to bed early, but then she’d toss and turn for most of the night.
Part of her thought this torture was probably punishment for taking a life.
The other part of her just wanted to feel like Sofia again.
“She has,” he replied. “But I saw you here and wanted to stop by.”
He did?
She guessed he did that a lot. He probably wanted to catch her off-guard.
And he nearly had. She wasn’t at her best at the moment.
She tried to slide the napkin she’d been doodling on off the table.
Stupid. So stupid.
Not that she knew what the image meant. She just kept drawing it over and over.
“You look tired. Is something wrong?” The detective’s sharp eyes ran over her. But she thought she saw a hint of concern in them.
However, she was probably imagining that. Why would the detective be worried about her?
He wouldn’t be.
“Of course not. Why would anything be wrong?” she replied, trying to sound light-hearted.
Without invitation, Maran sat across from her. Sofia tried not to visibly tense. She saw Arseni across the room. He’d been sticking close by without actually following her.
She shook her head at him just slightly. But still, Maran noticed and turned.
“Someone is watching us, I guess,” he commented. “Your cousin is nothing if not possessive.”
“My cousin is one of the best men I know,” she said tightly as she stood. She slipped the napkin into her pocket.
His eyes tracked her movement.
Fuck. Was she making it more noticeable that she’d been drawing something she wanted to keep hidden?
The stupid thing was... she wasn’t even sure why she wanted to keep it hidden. She just knew that she had to.
“Then you obviously don’t know him well.” The detective seemed to realize immediately that he’d said the wrong thing. He rose as she stepped away.
“I’m not sure you should eat here tonight, Detective Maran,” she said coldly.
“We both know you can’t refuse me service, Sofia,” he said in a soft voice. “I’m just worried about you. You don’t deserve to be part of this life.”
Sofia knew her smile was tight and strained, but she couldn’t manage anything better. It seemed like the less she slept, the less she was able to put up a pretense.
“This is my life, and this is the way I choose to live it. Would you like this table?”
“Is Ms. Toresso working tonight?” he asked instead of answering her question.
Shit.
What did he want with Miller? She’d only just come back to work after having a break.
Sofia was actually surprised she’d come back at all. That Rogan had allowed her to come back.
But she didn’t want to ask too many questions about what was going on. That might invite the other woman to ask her questions in return.
“She is,” she replied coolly. “Why do you ask?”
“You know why,” the detective replied. “She’s living with Rogan MacGuire. Her mother was involved with Iker Florez. She’s tied to two gangs and now she’s working here. Curious, isn’t it?”
“I don’t see how. She asked me if there was a job here and I said yes. Miller has become a great asset. Now, excuse me.”
She stepped away, breathing slowly and steadily.
Feeling eyes on her, she glanced over to see Colm watching her with a frown.
This had been the first night he’d come with Miller since she’d returned. Cillian had been here the other nights. She’d felt Colm’s eyes on her a lot tonight.
She could feel herself growing tenser as she walked toward her office. A thumping headache made her wince as she reached for her office door.
A hand landed on her shoulder, and she jumped with a scream.
Turning, she came face-to-face with Colm. Her heart was racing, threatening to beat out of her chest.
What was he doing?
Didn’t he know better than to sneak up on someone?
To sneak up on her... because God knew she was jumping at shadows at the moment.
“In your office. Now.”
“You can’t be back here,” she told him.
He just gave her a sharp look, one eyebrow raised. Yeah. He didn’t give a shit where he was supposed or not supposed to be.
That much was clear.
“What about Miller?” she asked desperately. “You’re supposed to be her bodyguard.”
“Finn has her.”
She’d noticed another man had come in with him tonight, but she’d never met him before. “Finn?”
“Rogan wants him trained up to watch her. Office. Now.”
Sofia swallowed heavily. “I don’t think that’s wise.”
“Why? Is the detective meeting you back here?” he demanded.
What?
Why would he ask that? And was that a hint of jealousy in his voice?
Nope. That was dumb.
“Of course not.”
“Two of you looked chummy back there. Your cousin wouldn’t like that.”
“Was that... are you threatening me?” she asked, feeling ill.
He took a step back, staring down at her in shock. “What? No. Of course not.” He let out a deep sigh. “Fuck. I’m worried about you.”
“Worried? This seems a strange way to show that you’re worried.”
“Inside,” he growled.
Yikes.
Even though she knew she should probably tell him to get lost, there was no way she was doing that. So she walked into her office.
A large Scottish lion walked in on her heels. Or was that a werewolf?
Nope. She had it.
Dragon.
Breathing fire and possession.
There went that imagination again.
Good God. She was losing it.
Moving behind her desk, she put it between them as a barrier of safety. It was the best she could manage.
His lips twitched as though he knew what she was doing and thought it was ridiculous.
That’s because it was. If he wanted to get to her, then this desk wouldn’t help her.
Likely, nothing would.
“You broke your word, Sofia.”
Uh. What the heck was he talking about? She reached up to brush her blonde hair off her face. Then she felt how much her fingers were trembling and quickly lowered her hand, hiding it behind the desk.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said coolly.
Wow. She’d just managed to say that without her voice breaking.
Go, her!
“Are you sure about that?” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
Damn it.
Why did he have to be built so spectacularly? She stared at his biceps, at his firm chest. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing the tattoos on his forearms that wrapped down over his hands.
She licked her lips, unable to look away.
“Like what you see?” he murmured.
Sofia jumped, working up a glare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but this is my office and it’s inappropriate for you to be in here.”
Dear Lord.
She sounded ridiculous.
“Inappropriate? I thought we were friends.”
She narrowed her gaze at him, feeling her temper stir. “I thought we were acquaintances.”
“Hmm. Acquaintances don’t text each other in the middle of the night when they’re upset and needing support.”
“We don’t do that!”
He suddenly smacked his hands down on the desk, making her jump again.
Jesus. She’d nearly peed herself. What the fuck did he think he was doing?
“No. But you’re supposed to, aren’t you, Sofia? You’re supposed to fucking well text me when you’re upset or scared or angry or whatever it is you’re feeling that’s making it impossible for you to sleep.”
“I can sleep.”
He drew himself back, pulling all that anger under a cool mask.
All right, now she wanted the anger back. At least, that was real and honest.
This Colm was one she didn’t know or like...
Face it, you don’t like the angry one, either, because you know he’s angry at you.
“You need to stop lying to me, Sofia. Lie to anyone else; I don’t care. But you don’t lie to me.”
“Why?” she whispered.
“Because I care.” The words seemed to be ripped out of him, but after he’d said them, there appeared to be some regret in his face.
That regret flayed her.
Because she didn’t want him to regret caring about her. Even though she knew he shouldn’t.
“Why?”
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re sweet and kind and caring. And you’re also a brat. You’re so fucking closed off except for those few moments that you let go and show me the real you. Those small sips you’ve given me have just made me thirstier to know all of you. It’s a tease, one I’m certain you’ve done without conscious thought. But it can’t be reversed. You’ve given me parts of you, and Lord help me, but I can’t help but want more.”
“You... I... we can’t do this, Colm.” The words were wrenched out of her, the pain in them so clear to hear.
“I know. Now ask me if I fucking care.”
Her breathing grew ragged. “We can’t be together.”
“Why? Because of Oleg?”
Shit. Yeah. Oleg. She was more thinking about the fact that she was the Princess of the Bratva while he was a bodyguard for the leader of the Irish gang.
But, yeah, sure. Oleg.
“Yes.”
“Dump him.”
“No.” It was whispered, but the word seemed to echo around the room. Then Colm took a step back and her world started to shatter.
Don’t go.
Don’t leave me.
Stay. Please.
Fight for me. Be the one person who has fought for me.
“Why?”
“B-because I love him.”
“You need to stop lying to me!” It was a roar and she jumped, stumbling back in shock.
Something came over his face. A mask. One of cold indifference.
God.
She hated that. She wanted to do whatever she could to rattle him. To see some emotion on his face.
To reverse all of her answers and throw herself at him.
“I apologize for scaring you. For all of this. I will not bother you again.”
No.
No, no, no.
“Colm,” she whispered.
God, there was so much stark pain in that word that it made her legs shake. But he was already out of the room before she’d spoken.
And even if she wanted to run after him, she couldn’t make her legs work. So, instead, she slid onto the floor, her back against the wall.
Reaching into her pocket, she drew out the napkin with the drawing on it.
What did it mean?
Why did she keep dreaming about that image? Leaning her head back against the wall, she tried to figure this all out.
“What the fuck was Finlayson doing in here?”
Oh shit.
Sofia jumped to her feet, swaying dizzily. Nausea bubbled.
She really needed to get some sleep. She was going to make herself ill at this rate.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? He fucking you? You fuck him behind my back, you slut!”
She glanced at the door, noting it was shut, with a sigh of relief. Although she was starting to wish that Sacha would hear how Oleg spoke to her.
No.
That wouldn’t work out well.
Her mind was just too sluggish at the moment to keep playing the game.
“Of course not. Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“You’re fucking stupid bitch. I seen way you look at him, lusting after him... you wet thinking about him?”
Sofia glowered at him.
He was such a fucking sick asshole!
“That’s none of your business.”
“I could make it my business, Sofia,” Oleg said in a low voice as he prowled toward her.
She felt her body throb with pain, with the memory of how he’d hurt her for killing Dima two weeks ago. He’d taken her on a pretense of a date, taking her back to his place to ‘punish’ her.
The bruises had healed, but there was no erasing the memory of the pain.
She’d had to be careful not to let Sacha see that she was in pain. To cover them all up.
But she wasn’t going to let Oleg touch her like that again. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything here. Not with other people around.
And the stupid part was that she was grateful that he hadn’t touched her in other ways.
Was she nuts?
Was this her life?
You should take your chances and tell Sacha. Screw what evidence he’s got. Sacha will know what to do.
That voice in her head had been whispering things to her lately. Maybe Oleg could sense that because it seemed like he’d become nastier.
More controlling.
He was here more, watching her.
“What that?” He glanced down at the napkin in her hand.
She screwed it up. “Nothing.”
“Why you draw that?”
“I... I don’t know. I had a dream about it. A nightmare, I guess.”
Shit. Why was she telling him that?
Something weird filled his face.
A knock on her door made him still. Sofia schooled her face into something serene as she called out.
Aleksandr walked in, and she breathed out a sigh of relief while trying to keep her face calm.
“Sofia.” He paused as he saw Oleg. “Shouldn’t you be at work? Bea is swamped out there.”
“Of course! I get right out there. Just needed to say good night to my girl. She head home to rest. Don’t want her too tired when I take her out soon.”
Oh God.
She really didn’t want to go anywhere to Oleg.
Maybe she could pretend to be ill.
Aleksandr’s concerned gaze ran over her. He’d already noticed her fatigue, but having Oleg point it out must have roused his protective instincts because he strode toward her.
“I’ll message Arseni. He’ll take you home now.” Aleksandr glanced at Oleg, who smiled slimily as he stepped out of the room. He glared at her behind Sacha’s back.
A clear warning to watch her tongue.
Why did he want her to leave, though?
Maybe it was just a ploy. He was pretending to care about her in front of Sacha.
That was likely it.
He was trying to gain brownie points and keep up this hoax that they were in a relationship.
Sometimes, she forgot that he wasn’t completely stupid.
Also, he likely wanted her away from Colm.
“Are you all right?” Sacha asked as soon as they were alone.
She gave him a small smile. She couldn’t hide her fatigue, though. “Tired.”
“You haven’t been sleeping. I want you to take a sleeping pill tonight. Understand?”
She nodded, even though it hadn’t been a request. Sacha had had the doctor check her over a couple of days after Dima’s death... murder... demise.
Shit.
Stop it.
He’d prescribed some sleeping pills, which she hadn’t taken.
She hated medicating herself. But she did need sleep.
“You’re to go straight home and take them,” he commanded. “Do I need to have Arseni make sure you take them?”
She narrowed her gaze, her temper flaring. “No!”
“Good.”
Her shoulders slumped as she sighed. “I will. I promise.”
Sofia almost winced as she said that. What were her promises worth?
Next to nothing.
“I heard Maran was here talking to you. What did he want?”
Her fingers itched to pull out the napkin she’d been doodling on. But she hadn’t shown the images to anyone. She didn’t know why. Part of her just needed to figure this out on her own.
Without anyone interfering.
“He wanted to tell me that I don’t deserve to be in this life and that he can help me.” She shrugged. “I think his intentions are good if misplaced.”
Sacha scowled. “I need to get rid of him.”
Alarm filled her. “You can’t do that! He’s a cop.”
“I can do it, but I won’t. Maran is a dying breed. Someone who can’t be corrupted or bribed. Somebody who won’t look the other way no matter what it costs him. Which makes him a problem.”
But her cousin also admired him for that.
Someone like that was rare, at least for people like them.
“However, if he continues to harass you, then I will take him out.”
The words were a cold promise that sent a chill up her spine.
But she believed him.
Aleksandr didn’t make idle promises.