Chapter 6
Sophia
Hearing this man say he needs me makes my insides turn to mush. What is happening to me? I’m not the type of girl to turn to a pile of goo when a man looks my way. I’ve never needed a man to complete me. I’ve never needed anything.
“Well, I don’t need you.”
Dean steps closer, his dark blond hair rustling in the wind. “How can I make it worth your while?”
Worth my while? The only thing that can make anything worth my while is money, and that I get to deliver the final death blow to Bishop. “I want to kill him.”
“Done,” he says, holding out his hand.
I’m hesitant, but I shake it. “Done.”
I tell the man I no longer need the lift to the other island, and walk toward the Mercedes.
Dean follows close behind. “I have a man here,” he says. “He can drive the bike home, and we’ll ride together.”
I nod as we take a detour to the other side of the airport where his men guard Dean’s plane. He talks to his men for a few minutes before handing off the keys to the motorcycle. “So, how do you plan to find Bishop?” I ask at the car.
Dean faces me as he unlocks the doors with the key fob. “That’s where I need your help.”
“My help?” I ask him.
“Yes, I need to know how you could learn of Bishop’s plan so easily.”
I study Dean for a moment, wondering if I can truly trust this man. “I have a friend on the inside.”
He says nothing for a full minute before he slides into the front seat of the car. I follow suit and get into the passenger side.
“Who?” he asks, starting the car with the push of a button.
“You want the name of my person on the inside? Trust me, it’s no one you know.”
“I have a man on the inside too, but I still want to know who I can trust. Because I never got the exact date. I want to know everything.”
Dean appears to be a man who enjoys being in charge.
He likes the power.
He craves control.
I’m the same. I like to be the one calling the shots. I’m used to it.
It’s been me against the world for so long that I’ve never been able to trust anyone. In fact, having to depend on Dean is killing me. “I usually work better alone.”
“Well, we have a deal. Or did you forget already?”
I purse my lips, thinking. We do have a deal, and if I can trust him long enough, I may just be able to get what I want too. To murder Bishop.
“You’re right. We do have a deal.” Or I can try to leave again tonight. Get another flight. Ask the Englishman with the red hat if I can charter off the island. I decide to bide my time. “Rosa.”
Dean rubs his jaw as he drives us back to his mansion. “Rosa, who is that?”
“She’s the only person in this world I trust, or so I thought.” I shake my head. “She is the one who told me about Bishop.”
“How does she know him?”
I shrug. “She works for him.” I don’t go into exactly how she works for him.
We make it back to his place in no time at all. He wasn’t very chatty after I gave him the name Rosa, which means he’s got no plan yet. But it’s ok, because I don’t have a plan either.
He pulls into the garage and shuts off the engine. “You’re not planning on trying to escape anymore, are you?”
I get out of the car. “That depends, are you keeping me prisoner here?”
Dean exits the car, giving me a glorious smile I’m sure he truly reserves for close friends or lovers. It makes my breath hitch at the sight of it. “Well, if you get unruly, I may just have to lock you up.”
“Handcuffs are my favorite.” And with those words, I walk past him and into the house.
Damn it. The phone lines are still down and still no reception on my cell phone. I want to check in with Rosa and find out how everything’s going with Bishop. See if he’s on the move. Also, I want to know why Rosa lied to me. Was Bishop really supposed to be at Mia’s house on the night I was there to take her place? Did he show up? What happened once he found out she wasn’t there? These are questions I need answered. And soon.
I traipse down the hallway, heading toward the kitchen and toward the smell of something delicious. I haven’t eaten in a while, and I haven’t seen Dean in even longer.
“Hungry?” he asks.
I blink, trying to pick up my jaw off the floor. Dean stands in the kitchen, working over a large pan on the stove. Shirtless. Hard muscles move beneath an expanse of bronzed skin, on full display for me. Well, his back muscles are at the moment. I’d love for him to turn around.
But not only that there’s tattoos galore. Some of the best I’ve ever seen. Wow.
I study the corded muscles of his back, wondering what it would feel like to trace each one with my finger. Or my tongue.
He spins around, and I marvel at the sight of his six-pack abs. “Are you hungry?”
Yup, but not for food.
I step closer to see what he’s got in the pan. “I am, but how are you cooking with no power?” I ask once I can muster up words.
“Gas stove. Hope you like linguini with meatballs.”
“I’m Italian. Of course, I do.”
He gives me that heart-melting smile again, and I try not to swoon like a schoolgirl. “Good. Want to grab some plates?”
I set our places on the breakfast bar. But he’s too distracting. Thank goodness I have my hands busy. Otherwise, this would end in disaster… and satisfaction—I’m sure the man is skilled—but mostly disaster.
“Whoa, this is delicious,” I praise the dinner as soon as I take the first bite. I’m biased because I’m hungry, but the hint of basil, ricotta and romano cheese, with the simple tomato sauce work perfectly together.
“Glad you like it.” He pours red wine in the glass in front of me. I read the label, Pinot Noir. My mind is reeling and not because of the alcohol.
This man would be lethal for my determination.
Dean sits beside me.
“This is nice, thank you.” I don’t want to be ungrateful. “The house is so quiet.”
So quiet it’s easy to forget where we are, and why.
“Everyone’s left for the evening.”
This is like music to my ears. I’m ready to get out of here. I need a working phone. And I need it now . Yes, I have a deal with Dean, but this is more important. Besides, if Dean has a man on the inside as well, why does he need me?
It’s not like I found out anything vital he can’t ask his man for. We all know where Bishop is right now. He’s going after the four daughters. Once he has them, who knows what’s next for him. Not even Rosa knows.
“More wine?” he asks in a low voice, and suddenly this feels too intimate with the candle lights flickering along the wall.
“Sure,” I answer, because why not? I mean, when in Rome and all.
Dean’s a very good-looking man. I allow one moment to picture a life with him. Us sitting together at dinner every night. Would he spoil me?
Or would he leave me by myself to work all hours of the night?
Dean doesn’t strike me as the latter. Sure, he works hard, but I’ve observed he has a strong sense of taking care of the people close to him.
I think about these sorts of things. My father was the same way. Always the protector. Always the one to keep everyone safe, never worrying about himself.
As Dean tells me about how he started his business, I watch the way his mouth moves over his fork when he eats. I imagine being that fork, sliding past his lips. And then, I realize I’m gawking when he asks a question I can’t answer.
“I’m sorry,” I say, hoping he hasn’t noticed I wasn’t paying attention to him.
Well, I was paying way too close attention to him.
“I asked if you’ve ever been to Florida. Miami?”
I shake my head. “I’ve never left New York since I came to America. I didn’t have the best time when I first arrived. I worked sixty hours a week, maybe more, just to make ends meet.”
Dean sets his cutlery down and steeples his fingers over his plate. “Oh, I’m sorry. You seem to have done well for yourself, right?”
I nod. “I do ok.”
Dean studies me for a moment and I push a few meatballs around on my plate. And then the moment vanishes when he changes the subject to why I should go to Miami, one of his favorite places.
After dinner, while I clean up the kitchen, I keep my mind busy drafting a new plan to fly away from here. This time, he won’t catch me. I’ll wait until Dean’s fast asleep before I make my move. Throughout dinner, I was every bit as charming as I was polite. Dean shouldn’t suspect a thing.
Late in the night, when it’s pitch black outside, not even a hint of light from the moon or stars, I retrieve my bag that’s still packed from this afternoon and slip out of my bedroom. I move down the hallway, keeping my feet light on the tiled floor. I’ve learned to be stealthy in my lifetime, and I put every skill I’ve learned to use right now.
I know better than to steal the car again, especially because it will make a lot of noise which I can’t afford to make. I did, however, see a bicycle in the garage that looked to be in good working condition. I’m hoping it is.
Slow and easy, I open the door to the garage, careful not to make a sound. My heart hammers as I try to move like a ninja.
A flashlight flicks on.
“Going somewhere?” Dean asks, standing next to the door.
I’m caught, but refuse to go down without a fight. “I can’t stay here while that fucker is still alive.”
“They grounded all flights. What were you thinking? That you could get to the airport and hitchhike on the runway?”
I raise my chin in defiance. “No, I had a plan.”
He steps closer, his eyes no longer holding the sparkle they held earlier tonight. “It was a stupid plan. I thought we had a deal.”
“Dean, revenge is waiting.”
“I think I remember saying I’d handcuff you if you tried to escape again.”
I laugh at his words. “You can’t handcuff me.”
He leans closer, slapping a cuff onto my wrist and spinning me around so both my hands are behind my back. “Oh, yes, I can.” He cuffs my other wrist and I try to wiggle free to no avail.
“You can’t do this to me,” I shout. I try to pull away from his hold, but he’s too strong for me.
“I just did it.”
“Let me go.”
I’m about to add Dean to the same list Bishop’s on. My dead list. There’s only one name there, Bishop’s, but Dean could very well be next.
“Or what?” There’s almost a hint of laughter in his words.
“You don’t want to know.”
Now he is laughing, and I try not to let the sound anger me more.
“I’m taking you downstairs. You can ride out the rest of the time there, until we can get off this island.”
I spin around to face him, my hands still cuffed behind my back. “You can’t treat me like a prisoner.”
“Sure I can.” He spins me back around. “Now walk.”
He guides me through a door in the garage that leads to the basement. This man really thinks he’s going to get away with this. He’s wrong if he expects a docile prisoner. I struggle against his hold some more, but cannot break free from it.
We take each step carefully, and once we’re at the bottom, I turn to face him. “You can’t keep me locked down here all night.”
“Of course, I can.” He moves close enough, our noses almost touch. “I can do whatever I want.”
“You’re a horrible man.”
This makes him chuckle, and he backs up. “There’s a bed, and a bathroom down here, but no windows. Don’t even think about trying to run away.” He uncuffs me and I charge at him.
I’m like a wild animal out for blood.
I scrape at his face, locking my legs around his waist as I attack him. He is full on ready for me, grabbing me, and tossing me onto the bed. He hovers over me, a thigh on each side of my ribs.
Dean works the handcuffs, trying to place them back onto my wrists. I keep my arms moving, knowing I can’t let him leave me down here chained to the bed.
“Give up,” he says. “You won’t win.”
Maybe not, but neither will he. I stop moving, taking a deep breath. “Dean, let’s talk about things.”
“Too late for that,” he says with a snarl.
“Fine.” I pull away, moving out of Dean’s stronghold on me. “Fine. Ok?” I stand from the bed. “I’m not good at trusting people and I’m scared, ok?”
Inside my chest, my heart is pounding.
Dean pauses, no longer trying to slap the handcuffs on me. “Sophia, we’re never going to be able to work together if you can’t trust me.”
I know he’s right. I need his help to get off this island. I need his help to find Bishop. Because whatever intel I’m getting from Rosa, I can no longer trust. As hard as it is, I have to take this leap of faith with Dean and hope and pray he’ll not betray me.
“I swear to you, I’ll work with you to find Bishop.”
Dean moves around the room lighting a few candles. “I can’t have you escaping on me, Sophia.”
“I won’t. Promise.” I cross my heart with my fingers.
“I mean it, Sophia.”
“I promise you, Dean Maddox.” I stare into his eyes so he knows how serious I am. “I need you.”
The side of his lip quirks upward. “Do you definitely need me?”
I smile. “Yes, definitely.”