Chapter 4
Sophia
I can’t believe I’m sitting here telling Dean all my stories. I should know better. I’m the type of girl who never lets her guard down, but there’s just something about him. A simple kindness glows through him that I can’t turn away from. It makes me want to open up. It makes me want to spill all my secrets to him, but I know I can’t.
I can’t tell him because if I do, he’ll never let me go through with it. I can’t tell him my plans.
Dean heads off to the other side of this ginormous house to check on the sound of the crash. When he doesn’t return after a few minutes, my mind gets the best of me. What if it wasn’t from the storm but from Bishop’s men coming for Mia?
I grab my knife, never letting this baby too far away from me at any given time. I move through the house, knife in one hand, flashlight in the other.
“Dean,” I call out into the darkness. “Are you there?”
The sound of silence greets me as I move further throughout the house. I worry a little when Dean doesn’t answer, but I’m resolved to see this through. I can’t just sit in the living room like a sitting duck waiting for slaughter. No, I’ll face my attackers head on, and maybe even get a few blows in before I’m taken out.
“Dean?” I say one more time before I shut off my flashlight. No sense alerting the intruders to my presence. I’ve trained many hours for just this sort of thing. When Dean asked how I worked out, I didn’t want to divulge every way I train. I didn’t want him knowing every single self-defense class I’ve taken. How I became obsessed with learning ways to kill a single man with just a few moves. Better to surprise him if I ever find he’s untrustworthy.
There’s a noise off to my right. I step toward the sound, making sure I’m light on my feet as I move. The door at the end of the hall is open, and I creep closer. I push through the door, listening to every single noise. The only sound I hear is my heartbeat pounding in my chest.
I don’t move as I listen for the sounds of breathing.
But I hear nothing. Still, I don’t move, making myself as statuesque as possible.
“Sophia, is that you?” Dean’s voice comes out of the darkness and I don’t say anything just yet, not giving away my position. “Sophia?” he asks again.
“It’s me. What was the crash?” I flick on my flashlight once I realize we’re both safe.
“A down tree in the backyard hit the shed out in the field.”
“That crash sounded a lot closer than that.”
“I agree. That’s why I’m checking everything out.”
“What are you thinking it is? Bishop’s men?”
Dean shakes his head, his sandy-blond hair catching the light from the flashlight. “No, they have no clue about this place, my plan, or any of it.”
“You sure? Do you trust all of your men?”
He nods. “I do.”
“Well, that’s foolish.”
He steps closer, caging me in to where I can’t step around him. “Do you trust anyone?”
My heartbeat kicks up and I shake my head. “No.”
“I didn’t think so.” He holds out his hand for me to take. “You can trust me, Sophia. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“How can I be so sure?”
He shrugs with a small smile. “You’re just going to have to believe me.”
I stopped believing in happy endings a long time ago. I don’t believe in things like trust or love, because I can’t afford to. Because I don’t have the liberties to take any man’s word. I have to be on my guard one-hundred percent of the time.
I didn’t always used to be this way. It wasn’t until I came to America and I was forced to leave my family behind. My little sister, gone. My mother, my brothers… all gone. I came to America at the age of fifteen and I had nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was cast out onto the streets and knew I had to survive. I knew I had to defend my own life because no one was going to defend it for me. I had to take care of myself. And that’s what I’ve been doing since I was fifteen.
Until the moment I got a job working as a maid for Georgio DeWinter. They helped me, getting me a Visa to work in the States. Then finally, I had a way to support myself. I was off the streets.
But I never stopped training. I never stopped learning to protect myself.
Because you never know.
I’m twenty-three now, and I’ve learned a lot. I’m able to ward off any normal attacker. Bishop, however, has me wondering if I’m actually ready.
I guess I’m going to have to be. Because as soon as this storm is over, I have to get off this island.
I take Dean’s hand, because right now I need him more than I don’t. This storm terrifies me. It brings back a haunted past. Memories I’d like to keep hidden in the depths of which they dwell, in the far recesses of my mind.
“Follow me. We can check the back of the house and make sure everything’s secure.”
Another loud thunder booms throughout the house, shaking the foundation beneath our feet. “I’m so ready for this storm to be over,” I tell Dean.
“Why don’t we make a game out of it?”
“A game?”
“Sure, why not?” he says as he leads me to the back entrance of the mansion past the garage.
Everything looks secure, but I’m still on edge. And by the way Dean purses his plump lower lip, I’d say he’s feeling the same way.
“What kind of game did you have in mind?” I try not to sound so seductive, but my tone is all wrong. I’m hoping Dean doesn’t notice.
He stops, staring at me with a raised brow. Ok, so maybe he noticed. “Well, I’m not sure. Maybe every time it thunders we can run to a new room in the house to check it out?”
“How will that keep my mind from being scared?”
A rumble of thunder threatens to bring the house down and I shake a little, but Dean winks at me and then takes off running. I laugh and chase after him. He sprints into the living room and I smile when I’ve reached him. “That wasn’t fair. I didn’t know we had started.”
“We can race.” He’s laughing too, and the mood from earlier has disappeared. Thunder vibrates the house, and Dean shouts, “Kitchen.”
I take off, running as fast as I can as I try to make it to the kitchen before Dean. I succeed and laugh. “I won.”
He enters the kitchen a second behind me, panting a bit. “I think I might be getting a little out of shape.”
I laugh. Another bang of thunder and I shout, “My bedroom.” Together we both fly out of the kitchen toward the staircase.
Dean takes the stairs two at a time, but I’m still very much in the race. I fly down the hallway and enter my bedroom a second before Dean.
He wraps an arm around my waist, trying to pull me back out of the room so he can step through instead. He’s close and my heart pounds as he draws me in even closer. We’re sharing this intimate moment together, and for some reason, I can’t turn away from his eyes. They pierce straight through to my soul, like he can see what’s hidden there.
Another thunder pounds, making me tremble, and it’s almost like it awakened us from this trance we’re under.
He drops his arms and does a little cough to clear his throat. “Sorry.”
“It’s ok.” I smile. “Your game was working though.”
He grins, and then there’s another crash on the opposite side of the house. “Stay here.” He rushes off, but I follow him anyway.
I’m not staying behind again.
We reach the kitchen to find a tree has plowed into the window, shattering glass everywhere. Leaves float through the air as wind tunnels through the home.
“Fuck,” Dean breathes out.
“I thought someone broke in.”
Dean shakes his head. “Somebody would be an idiot to break in during this storm.” He peers out the window, watching the rain batter the island. “No, there’s no way Bishop knows we’re here. And even if he did, he wouldn’t come here. He wants the four daughters. His attention is set on them.”
I run my hands up and down my arms to warm them from the cool wind rushing in from the broken window. “You’re right. I guess it’s just my nature.”
Dean smiles. “You’re safe here with me.” He steps toward the window, and together we clean up the mess left behind.
The next morning I’m greeted by no power. Once the storm settled down last night, Dean and I headed off to bed. To our own beds, in our own rooms. He was pretty cool, trying his best to keep my mind off the storm. I appreciated it. A lot.
I roll over, wondering what time it is because electricity powers the clock on the nightstand. It’s time to get dressed, that’s what time it is. I get ready in the bathroom and then head downstairs to find Dean.
“Bad news,” he says when I enter the kitchen. The house and grounds are alive with workers fixing the window and a crew of men outside, trying to restore the power.
“What’s that?” I ask, snatching an apple from the counter and taking a bite as I sit on a bar stool.
“Phone lines are down. Power’s out. There’s no service. We’re pretty much stuck here for a little while.”
“How long is a little while?”
He shrugs. “Few days, maybe longer.”
This just won’t do. I can’t stay here, just vacationing. Every day Bishop walks free is another day of him being lost forever. “I have places to be.”
Dean laughs at this. “Oh, and where exactly do you need to be?”
I set the apple down, standing from my seat. “I need to find Bishop and kill him.”
Dean shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not gonna happen anytime soon.”
Without a word, I leave the kitchen. I need my own way off this island. I can’t stay here.
“Where are you going?” Dean asks, following me down the hallway.
“I need to run to the store. Is that allowed?”
Dean nods. “I can take you into town, pending the roads are open.”
“Thank you.”
I move to my room, knowing I need a lay of the land before I attempt an escape.
My main plan for leaving this house is just to see the town, see if there’s something I can use to get off this island because I have no idea where I am. I pack a small bag just in case the opportunity arises that I can leave while we’re out.
I feel bad about ditching Dean, but my mind’s made up. I have to stick to the plan.
I head back to the kitchen where Dean is overseeing the repairs.
“Roads are good,” he says, grabbing the keys off the kitchen bar. “Ready?”
I nod. “Yes.”
He leads me to the garage where another set of men try to figure out why the generator isn’t running.
Dean clicks the key fob of a Mercedes SUV, and I slide into the front seat. He pulls out of the driveway and I pay attention to every detail. He drives down a long dirt road, and I watch the odometer to see how many miles we travel. After two miles, he turns left onto a paved road. I scope out the fields of grass, looking for anywhere I can stop to rest if need be.
I take note of every little thing. There are no houses for miles, and if I’m going to escape, I’ll need to do it when Dean brings me into town. We’re already five miles from the house and there’s not anything. Nothing to help aid my escape off this island.
Dean makes small talk, telling me about the history of the island. How it was Christopher Columbus’s first stop before discovering the Americas.
I listen only a little, making sure I’m not distracted from watching the passing scenery.
We make it to town after a good ten miles from the mansion, and it only solidifies my resolve to plan an escape. Whether I do it right now, or on another trip, is yet to be determined.
He pulls into a small market and parks. We exit the car and walk toward the store.
Dean glances around. “The storm really hit hard.” He points to the nearby marina with boats askew from their docks.
“Can we take a look?” I ask, hoping I can find someone to take me to the main island to get away.
“Sure.” Together we stroll across the road to a narrow sidewalk that leads to the marina.
“It’s gorgeous here.” I can’t help taking in the island’s beauty. In another world, this would be a great romantic spot to have a naughty getaway. I haven’t had a relationship in ages. My last boyfriend was a complete asshole who stole all my money and left me with nothing. That was over a year ago. Sure, I’ve dated here and there, but nothing as serious as the asshole.
“Did you get a lot of damage?” Dean asks a man, wearing a red hat, standing next to a boat.
“Well, I didn’t get anything too bad, but the boats on the end down there sure did.” The man speaks in Portuguese to the guy next to him, and they both smile. “Yeah, he got nothing too bad either, but has a tree down on his property.”
“I’m glad everything’s ok.” Dean walks away from the two men, but I stand in place, staring at the two men and their boat.
I wonder if they’d take me to the Santa Maria island to find a commercial flight back home? “Hi,” I say to them.
They both nod with a smile.
“Name’s Dean,” Dean shakes the man with a red hat’s hand.
“Terry.”
“Is that a charter boat?” I ask and Dean halts, like he is very interested in what I have to say.
“It is. We take people fishing on the weekends.”
“E você?” I say to the man standing next to Terry.
He blinks at me. “O que você quer dizer?”
Dean watches closely, but my suspicion was right, he has no clue as to what we’re saying.
“O que você faz?”
“Piloto.”
I smile, because the man is a pilot. Dean’s listening, but pretending he’s not, and I need to end this conversation soon. I stare at the man, pleading for him to understand me without words.
And it’s almost like he gets it and says, “Você quer que eu te leve?”
I nod, and Dean steps closer to me. “Everything ok?” He smiles and now I wonder if he can speak Portugese. I’m sure he can, but maybe he didn’t hear the whole conversation. Even if he did, I can’t be bogged down with the worry of it all.
I need to escape, and I just met a pilot.