Dario 6.
It’s been a while since I’ve gone into the field with my men.
As el jefe (the boss), it isn’t required.
I trust them to handle business and report back.
However, given the nature of this op, and the stakes, I’m right behind my brother as he throws open the door of the house.
We tracked Teuling and Sophie Schlay to this residence before he fled like a coward back to the Netherlands.
There is no sound from inside, no vehicles outside. I stand in the kitchen as the others move from room to room. Once the house is clear, I start walking through looking for a clue as to where Sophie might be.
My brother, Olegario, comes barreling down the steps. “I need a sledgehammer.”
“Why?”
“New construction upstairs in the master bedroom. It’s a solid wall, but I think it used to be a bathroom.”
“The fuck?” I take the stairs two at a time. In the master bedroom, I see what Oleg is referring to. New plaster and out of place. For a bedroom of this size, there should be a private bathroom. I knock, pressing my ear to listen.
“Hello?” A muffled voice comes from inside. Female.
“Sophie?”
“Yes, may I ask who’s inquiring?” She breaks off on a giggle, and I can’t help but chuckle at her response.
I pull the piece of paper from my pocket and read it out loud. “Paul Newman’s half Jewish, Goldie Hawn’s half too.”
“Put them together, what a fine lookin’ Jew!” Her laughter, though muted, speaks of her relief. “Well, don’t just stand there, come on in!”
It takes about 20 minutes, but we finally break through the wall.
A tall, slender woman stands with her hands on her hips against the far wall.
..naked. Long hair matted to her head, her body relatively unharmed but dirty.
The smell permeates and my brother and I start coughing.
Her cheeks blaze, but she shrugs, walking across the bathroom, and gingerly stepping through the jagged hole.
She holds her head up high, her hips swaying naturally as she continues through the bedroom, down the stairs and out of the house through the back door.
“What just happened?” Oleg asks with a shake of his head.
“I’m not quite sure.” We follow her down after instructing a few of my men to scrub the place clean of our presence and burn it to the ground.
She’s sitting in the back seat of my vehicle on a suit jacket, with a blanket wrapped around her body.
One look at my driver, Tajo, and I know where she got them.
I was expecting a cowering female, distraught, inconsolable…
what’s in the water of North Carolina? They don’t make women like this where I’m from.
Except Desi. I smile briefly as I slide in beside her, thinking of how well she and my twin will get along.
She presses the button to roll down the window and practically sticks her head out of it as my driver starts our trip back home.
We are hours away. I wasn’t sure what kind of condition I would find her in, so I planned ahead for contingencies.
I’m not sure that we will require any of them after all.
About 45 minutes from where we found her, I pull my phone from my pocket and begin a text to Moshe to let him know she is in our possession.
She places a filthy hand on my arm. I follow the long limb up a graceful neck to her grimy face.
“They didn’t hurt me but I’m not ready to talk to my family, just yet.
” I nod once and edit my text to let him know just that.
He responds immediately, thanking me for finding her and have her contact them as soon as she is able.
Another 10 minutes and she sits upright. “Stop the vehicle.”
“Are you sick?” I glance around for something for her to puke into, but she shakes her head.
“No.” She smiles at something outside and looks back at me. “Are we safe here?”
“Yes.” I have plenty of men with me to protect her, but we aren’t in a high-traffic area right now.
“Then stop the vehicle.” Tajo pulls off to the shoulder and places the vehicle in Park. “Do you have a go bag?”
“Yes? In the trunk.”
She smiles, opening the back door and exiting the vehicle, leaving the blanket behind.
She taps on the trunk and Tajo pops it. I climb out on my side and find her rummaging through my overnight bag.
She crows triumphantly, holding up my bodywash, toothbrush, and toothpaste.
I stand frozen as she walks off the shoulder, climbs over a guardrail, and into the small lake.
Oleg comes to my side and watches her wash her body and hair, brush her teeth, and float happily in the water.
Droplets of water caress the slopes of her breasts, dripping off the pointed tips of her nipples.
Scrubbed clean, she strides out of the water with a brilliant smile.
“Dios es bueno…impresionante (God is good…impressive).” I glare at the side of Oleg’s head but can’t disagree with his assessment.
She is quite stunning. Long legs, feminine curves and perky tits.
Long dark blonde hair, but it’s the small patch of blond curls between her legs that calls to me most. I shake my head and punch Oleg in the arm.
Now is not the time. She’s been held captive for a month. She doesn’t need any of us ogling her.
She lifts her arms, running her hands through her wet hair before flipping her head down and back up.
“God, that felt fucking amazing. A month! Barely allowed to wash up. I haven’t brushed my teeth in weeks!
They sealed me up AFTER turning off the water and left me with one-ply toilet paper!
ONE-PLY! Fucking animals.” She shakes her head forlornly.
Oleg and I laugh at her exasperation, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
She grabs a pair of joggers and a shirt from my bag, stepping into them gracefully before patting me on the shoulder and getting back in the car.
“They got more like her up north?” Oleg inquires with a broad smile.
“I don’t know…why? You in the market for a wife?”
He lifts a shoulder with a contemplative expression that throws me for a loop. I’m still stymied by his reaction when I reenter the vehicle and instruct Tajo to begin driving. Sophie stares out the window, taking in every sight with the joy of a child, reminding me of my nieces and nephews.
Close to home, I decide to rip the band-aid off. “Teuling is dead.” She slowly turns her head to stare at me, one eyebrow quirking in question. “Tragic accident upon his return home in the Netherlands.”
She nods once, her lips twitching before she throws her head back and howls with laughter. What the fuck? She isn’t anything like I expected.
“Accident thy name is Morris Schlay.”
“I don’t know the details—”
“I don’t need them. My father will have handled it with enthusiasm.” She taps her finger against her chin in thought. “Kidnapped by mistake, held for a month…I think this was serious enough for my brother to have gotten involved.”
“Jonah Schlay? The porn king?”
She rolls her eyes with a huff. “Don’t call him ‘king’. He’s the porn jester at best.”