Chapter 24
Soren
If looks could kill, Bella would eviscerate me.
“I’m telling my mom.” She turns on her heel and speeds toward the hall.
“No, wait. Let me explain.” How do I help her understand?
She stops running to turn around, folding her arms, and jutting her chin in a pout. “I knew you weren’t here to hang out.”
“Of course not. Do your parents typically allow you to hang out with strangers?”
She rolls her eyes.
I stand straighter, facing this child with the kind of respect and honesty I wish I’d seen even once as a child. “That painting that was in your dad’s office was stolen from my client, and your dad bought it illegally.”
Her eyes narrow, and for a nine-year-old, the look is fairly intimidating. “I know.”
I blink. “What?”
Her gaze darts to the wall, anger marring her innocent features. “I heard him talking about it with someone when I was hiding in the library. He didn’t see me.”
It’s a rough time as a child to realize your parents aren’t as perfect as you thought.
“I need to take it to the rightful owners,” I say, softer, gentler. But now that Bella knows my plan, how will I ever be able to accomplish it?
“You lied,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.
“I did.” I drop to a knee beside her, catching her eye. “And I’m sorry.”
“Do you still want the painting?” she asks, looking up at me with her innocent, hopeful eyes.
“There’s nothing I want less right now.”
“But you’re still going to take it.” Her eyebrows furrow. “If you find it.”
Wait…“Do you know where it is?”
She zips her lips and throws away the key.
“Bella, I have to find that painting.”
“Technically, you don’t have to do anything.”
Spoken like a true daughter of millionaires with no consequences.
“Life isn’t that simple, and our choices aren’t always black and white. There are a lot of gray areas we have to try to interpret ourselves. People are counting on me. This painting will help them.”
“Who?”
“Two little girls about your age.”
Her face scrunches. “How will a painting help? My parents have lots, and they haven’t done anything for me.”
“It’s complicated, but the sale of it will mean a better life for the girls with nothing.”
She chews on her bottom lip. “I could give them my bounce house.”
I smile at her tenderness. I didn’t know she had any, but here it is.
“Can you forgive me?” I ask.
She huffs out a brea“Only if you’re nice to Penny. She needs more friends. We all need more friends.”
That we do.
She spins around and heads for the theater, apparently done with the conversation. But I’m not.
“Wait…”
She doesn’t stop. I need her to keep quiet. Who is she going to tell? Her parents? The police? She’s going to hold this over me to get me to do what she wants. I’ve got to hand it to her. The girl is good.
I follow her to the theater room like a dog on a chain.
“Where’s the water?” Maya asks.
“Couldn’t find it,” I mumble.
“Mrs. Morrison stopped by again,” Bella says, looking at me pointedly.
“What did she want?” Maya asks with a yawn.
“Who knows? That old bat is crazy.”
“Bella! That’s not nice,” Maya scolds, but I’m taking Bella’s side on this one. I hope the old woman doesn’t make good on her threat and come back. I’d hate to have to fight an old lady.
Bella plops on the couch. There’s plenty of space next to Maya—space I want to take up. Space she may even have saved for me. But I can’t right now. Not after I was just caught. I’m putting myself on time-out for sucking at my job.
I’m exhausted. Things with Maya deserve more time and attention than I can offer right now.
I lie down on the couch perpendicular to hers but still close enough to hear her sigh. Out of relief or disappointment?
I don’t have time to dwell on it; I need to figure things out. But Rosie still isn’t responding.
I scan the security cams through the app on my phone.
The thief got through the front door while Maya and I were talking.
I should have been paying better attention.
I double-check that the smart lock is set and lean back.
I’m usually the one breaking in, not trying to keep people out. How do I keep these girls safe?
I’m going to have to do it. I don’t want to, but I need help.
I open a secure thread to Liam and explain the predicament, the additional thieves in pursuit, and the MIA painting.
I stare at my phone, waiting for his reply. It doesn’t come, and my eyes are heavy. I’ll just rest for a moment, and then I’ll fix all the problems waiting for me.
Maya
Am I mad at Soren for not sitting by me during the movie after our little heart-to-heart?
Of course not.
That being said, I also did not stop Bella from painting his nails while he slept.
There’s a certain amount of karma one can allow to happen. I did stop her before she got to the makeup.
“We should head to bed,” I tell Bella, glancing at the time. It’s nearly ten, and she’s usually in bed by eight.
“Can’t we have a slumber party here again?”
The idea is tempting, but how good of a caregiver would that make me? Two nights in a row with a known thief. Well… known to me.
“No.” We shouldn’t. “We can’t.” Can we?
I’ve just confused myself.
“Okay,” she submits with a yawn as she stands from the couch, gathering her blanket in her arms.
I’m surprised she so easily gives in. We head out of the room, and I’m half tempted to lock Soren inside as revenge for falling asleep during my favorite movie, but I refrain.
He’s done his duty in protecting us. That’s all I asked him for, all he promised.
I can’t expect more. Tomorrow I’ll hand over the painting, and then he’s free to go.
Mrs. Hartwell will be home tomorrow and take Arabella far away from here, and I’ll go to my apartment and… sleep on the couch.
My steps slow, and my legs feel heavy with ever-mounting fatigue. My roommate ransacking my space feels like ages ago. That’s another obstacle I need to face. If I ever make it through this one.
I follow Bella upstairs, ensuring she brushes her teeth and changes her clothes.
She climbs beneath the rumpled covers, burrowing in. “Thanks for Christmas,” she whispers, so soft I think I’ve misheard her.
“It was a fun day.” Mostly.
“I don’t even think I’ll need counseling after being held hostage.”
I chuckle, brushing her hair off her forehead. “I’m relieved.”
“When my mom gets back, maybe you could come to Harry Potter World and Epic Universe with us,” Bella says.
“I think your mom wants to spend some time alone with you,” I say with a soft smile.
“And you want some time alone with Derek,” she lilts.
“No, I don’t.” I try to deny it, but it’s nearly impossible. The second I’m done here, I’m going back to the theater to wake up that man and demand more answers and maybe a real kiss.
“I like him. Even if he’s a thief.”
With that, she turns on her side and closes her eyes.
I don’t move for a full ten seconds. What does she know?
“Don’t worry,” she says, rolling her head back and popping an eye open. “I won’t tell my mom who you hang out with. The bad boys are always cuter.”
“Whoa, hey, the good guys are cute, too.”
“I don’t see any of those guys making you smile.”
Touché.
We’ll have to discuss the company I keep tomorrow before her mom returns. Because I care about what Bella thinks about me. I want to be a positive figure in her life.
But what does that mean regarding Soren?
“I think he’s like Severus Snape or Dexter.” Bella yawns, playing with a strand of hair like she does when she’s tired. “Bad on the outside. Good on the inside.”
Snape I can get behind, but Dexter? “Did you just compare him to a serial killer?”
“A good one,” she says, like I’ve missed the whole point.
I chuckle. “Good night, Bella.”
I turn off the light. The zombie night-light casts an eerie glow over the spacious room, and I slip out, shutting the door behind me. I head down the hall, trying to find the answers to my life’s problems on the marble floor beneath my feet.
I don’t even know if Soren wants a chance with me. I need to ask him and let the cards fall where they may, for better or worse. If he doesn’t want me, I’ll get over him this time. I will.
I turn down the hall for the theater, but the light in the office catches my attention. Wasn’t that room dark when I went upstairs?
Is Soren in there searching for the painting again? He has to know by now it isn’t hidden there.
But that’s what matters most to him—the reason he’s still here. Not because he cares for me.
The irritation in my veins is enough to make my steps speed up. We are going to have this talk and—
The lights go out. The cavernous living space falls eerily silent.
“Soren?” I say.
Nothing. No response. No sound of any kind.
“Soren?” My voice is a mere squeak.
Something is wrong. My heart leaps to my throat, and I scramble for my phone, but a hand clamps over my mouth.