Sophie 7. #2
My smile drops at her response. That psycho bitch. “I am going to end you.”
“You’ll try and then I’ll zip you into another suitcase.” She dodges the hands that go flying, several relatives attempting to smack her. She dips in front of the screen once more with a scary grin. “Too soon?”
“When do you have to return to your father’s lair?”
“The Dark King only requires a daily video-call check-in nowadays.” She lifts the phone and walks out of the sitting room.
As the view bounces to wherever she’s taking me, I glance at Dario.
He’s staring off to the side, a contemplative expression on his severe face.
He’s so…so…masculine. Commanding. Exactly why I went for Clark Smith.
Not that Clark wasn’t a man, but he was…
unassuming. Ordinary. And after a lifetime of mafioso extraordinaires, his quiet presence was what I needed.
But looking at Dario, the more time I spend in his company…
he screams trouble. He’s sure nice to look at though.
Especially when he swims in the mornings.
Moses, Aaron, and Miriam, all that tan real estate covered in tattoos and a tiny pair of swim briefs that barely contain the Burmese python he carries around between his thick thighs.
I shake myself out of my inappropriate thoughts. I blame Tovah. She brings out the worst in me. Problem is, she also brings out the best. She’s a fickle bitch like that.
“OPEN UP!” She bangs her fist on a suite door, yelling for whoever is behind it to open it quickly. Yak throws open the door with a scowl. His eyes dart between her and me on the screen. His eyes light up when my presence registers.
“Sophie.” He breathes a sigh of relief that seems out of place. Sure, Yak is like another cousin to me, but we aren’t besties. His eyes glitter with unshed tears when he nods at Tovah and opens the door wider to let her in. What is going on?
There’s a lot of rustling and then I’m staring at Sophia…
only this isn’t the Sophia Goldman I know.
She’s laying on her side, her eyes dull and lifeless as she stares at something off screen.
Though, if I had to guess she isn’t seeing anything at all.
Lost inside to something darker than any of us can comprehend.
My chest aches at seeing her like this. I knew she would take this hard; I had no idea…
“Sophia?” I clear my throat and swallow down the emotions that threaten to overwhelm me. “Sophia, it’s Sophie. Neshumela (little soul), I’m safe and unharmed. The man who took me won’t ever bother you or me again. Sophia?”
Her shoulders jerk first. Her eyes blink slowly and a sob wrenches from my throat as I watch her try to focus. Her eyes move around the room before coming to rest on the phone. She stares at me for several long seconds before tears flow over her lashes and down to the bedding beneath her. “Sophie?”
“Thank fuck,” I hear Yak exclaim in the background.
Tovah whispers, “Go get Monty, I’ll stay with her.”
“There you are, neshumela.” I smile, tears dripping from my chin, but I don’t care enough to wipe them away. I realize now that Tovah didn’t mention Sophia when she was filling me in earlier. And I’m ashamed that I didn’t ask. I should have.
“I’m so sorry.” Her broken whisper is too much.
“No! No!” I shake my head fast side to side, tears whipping around along with my hair. God, no. I’m too emotional to notice Dario standing from his seat. But when I’m suddenly airborne and then in his lap, I welcome the warmth and solid body behind me. “Sophia, no. This isn’t your fault.”
“Yes it is! He wanted me…you got…you were kidnapped because of me!”
“I was kidnapped because of a little boy pitching a fit over losing his toy and he hired incompetent fucking assholes to retrieve it. And I’m not sorry they did.
” She gasps in shock, her watery eyes wide and almost child-like.
“Between you and me, I would zip myself in that suitcase every fucking time, Sophia.” She opens her mouth, but I slice my hand through the air, and she snaps her jaw shut.
“You are NOT weak, you are not a burden, or a liability. You are a part of this family, like Ruthie is the heart, you are the soul. You two are everything good in this world and any one of us would fight and die to protect you both. Monsters roam this earth in broad fucking daylight, and it is our responsibility to beat them back, keep them at bay so that the heart of humanity can beat and its soul continues to shine bright. I do not regret a single thing that happened, Sophia, not because you would have been incapable but because it is my honor to stand in your stead.”
“Dios mio. Mierda (Oh, my God, shit).” Dario mutters quietly, shifting his body with a groan.
“Sophie. I…I don’t think…I don’t understand how you can feel that way.”
I lift a shoulder and wipe my tears from my face.
“Don’t need you to understand, just accept that I would tell you if I felt differently.
We are a lot of things in the Kosher Nostra, but we aren’t liars.
And we use guilt like a sharpshooter with a rifle.
” She smiles softly, her eyes dipping down.
“Promise me, neshumela, that you will speak to your therapist. And love on your men, I haven’t seen Monty, but Yak looked like he was emotionally constipated—”
“And his fucking penis pipes are backed up, too. She’s been like this since the day you were taken.”
“Please…Tovah, never say penis pipes again.”
“Can’t. I think I’m going to make that my band name.
Tovah and the Penis Pipes…I throat sing while they play the organ.
” Dario begins shaking and I look over my shoulder to find him laughing.
His arms rest around my waist, his forehead dropping to my back.
He sucks in a couple of breaths, and it makes me giggle.
Tovah is hysterical…until you live with her.
“Sophie…I’m really glad you’re ok. They didn’t hurt you—”
“They didn’t. Honestly.” Sophia nods once, closing her eyes on a sharp inhale. “Now, go love on your men. And Tovah, bring me back to my parents.”
“Oh, you missed it.” She stands up after kissing a shocked Sophia on the head and strides from their suite.
“Your mom got Harper so good!” She tells me all about the prank mom and the aunts played on Harper and it heals a part inside me I didn’t know was broken.
I’ve missed my family…this is the longest I’ve ever been apart from them.
That’s probably a therapist’s codependent nightmare, but it works for us.
I’m excited to reunite with them but as I allow myself a moment to indulge in the beautiful man holding me in his lap, I realize there’s no rush to return home just yet.