Chapter 11 #2
It looks as if a bomb has exploded. Clothes and cosmetics are everywhere. The kitchen resembles a battlefield, and the pungent stench of chemicals emanates from the bathroom. I wonder what Jules and Sophie have done here, but they’re nowhere to be seen.
When I yell a second time, Jules comes out of her old bedroom, looking pissed. "What?"
"Have you lost your mind? I could hear the fucking music all the way outside. How many times do I have to tell you that—"
"Calm down," she interrupts me, irritated. "We’re allowed to have a little fun, aren’t we?"
"Not when you’re blasting half the city with it!"
"You’re overreacting. Nobody’s going to start a mob just because some music comes out of these old walls," she says, annoyed, and goes to the kitchen.
"Where’s Sophie?"
Jules takes two bottles of Coke from the fridge. "In her room."
I tilt my head, hoping I have that one wrong. "I’m sorry… what did you just say?"
"Are you deaf?" Jules turns to me and puts one hand on her hip while holding the two bottles in the other.
"What do you mean, in her room?"
She looks at me with raised brows as if I were slow-witted. "Well, she has to sleep somewhere. And neither you nor I need that room, so it’s her room now."
When I want to ask her if she’s lost her mind because she’s going over my head deciding who sleeps where in my fucking house, I hear a knock from downstairs.
"I have to go. Make sure Sophie stays upstairs," I instruct Jules.
She rolls her eyes and turns away.
Goddamn. This conversation is far from over.
Steve and one of his henchmen sit next to me at the old table in the otherwise empty basement. Mo, a beefy and somewhat stupid guy, is using chalk to trace the circle on the floor, which is in the center of the large room and has a diameter of about fifteen feet.
"You’re kidding, right?" Steve asks while staring at me.
Returning his gaze, I light a cigarette. "I wish I were."
"That’s too short notice. The first ones are already arriving in two hours. We can’t reschedule or call it off." His voice allows no argument. "Why are you even asking? It’s never been a problem before."
I take a deep drag before answering. "Just forget about it. It’s fine."
It was to be expected that he wouldn’t like my suggestion. And I have to admit that he’s right. It’s simply too late.
"But you’re still in, aren’t you?" he asks while taking out his notebook before flipping through the pages.
"Yes."
"Good. You’re last." He closes the book again, lays it on the table, and strokes his shaved head with one hand. "Make sure you’re focused. I’ve put a lot of money on you."
"Have I ever not been focused?" I ask irritably because his remarks annoy me.
He just shrugs but doesn’t say anything else.
"Everything’s fine," I assure him. "It will go as it always does."
"Umm… hello?" Mo’s voice suddenly drifts to us. I follow Steve’s gaze as he turns toward the stairs.
Fuck.
Sophie stands on one of the last steps and looks at us wide-eyed.
She’s wearing blue jeans, a white shirt, and a loose, red-and-black plaid blouse over it.
Her hair is no longer blond, but chocolate brown, and she now has bangs that soften her features even more.
Jules must have also put some makeup on her, because even from here I can make out the long lashes that frame her eyes as she looks around with uncertain, but curious glances.
She looks stunning. Completely changed, but absolutely stunning.
Still, I put some harshness in my voice, hoping she’s not having her brave five minutes again right now. "Go back upstairs."
Sophie doesn’t move an inch. Instead, she looks at Mo, who stands there with the chalk in his hand, staring at her like a Neanderthal who has never seen a woman before. "What are you doing here?"
Where the fuck is Jules? She was supposed to look after Sophie and make sure she doesn’t come down here, goddamn.
"For heaven’s sake… Go. Back. Upstairs," I try again. "Now."
When she still makes no effort to leave, I lose my temper. I jump up, walk over to her, and grab her arm to pull her out of the basement myself.
"What is it that you don’t get about going upstairs?" I press as we reach the stairs leading to the upper floor.
"Who are they?" she asks, unimpressed. "And what’s with the circle on the floor?"
"Jules!" I yell as we reach the top of the stairs.
"Just a second." Her muffled voice sounds through the closed bathroom door before it opens and she stumbles out. "What is it?"
"You were supposed to be watching her," I say and gently push Sophie in her direction, letting her go.
"I did!"
"Then why was she just downstairs?"
"I had to pee. That’s still allowed, isn’t it?"
Sophie cuts in, silencing Jules. "I’m sorry. This is my fault. I wanted to know where you were." Her voice sounds thin as she looks at me before lowering her gaze and staring at the floor in front of her.
"You can’t just—"
"Cole," Jules cuts me off sharply, stepping up to Sophie to put one hand on her back and brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear with the other. "It’s not your fault. After all, you didn’t know the basement was a restricted area." She gives me an evil look as she finishes her words.
"But why is that?" Sophie asks and lifts her head again to look up at me out of rueful eyes.
Fuck…
Again, what have I gotten myself into?
"I have to go back downstairs. Jules, you… just take care of her," I say urgently and then disappear because I can’t bear the sadness in Sophie’s amber eyes.
As I descend the stairs to the basement, Steve looks at me with a mix of interest and irritation. "Care to tell us who that was?"
"No one," I reply curtly as I sit back down. "Just a friend of Jules."
"I thought she had moved out?" Mo wants to know dumbly.
Steve raises a brow. "That’s what I thought too. Enlighten us, will you, Walker?"
"There’s nothing to enlighten," I reply curtly, meeting his gaze.
"You know we can’t have any broads down here. Especially not ones who are still in school."
"She won’t come down again," I grudgingly assure him.
"I hope so because—"
"I said, she’s not coming down again."
He examines me insistently but says nothing else and finally averts his gaze. "Whatever. Make sure you’re ready," he demands while rising. "I’ll see you later."
His steroid-addicted friend and Mo stand, too, and a few moments later, I’m alone.
"Fucking shit," I mutter, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back.
I should go upstairs and confront Jules. I should figure out how to stop Sophie from walking down here again. And I should prepare for tonight. But none of that is what I want to do right now, especially not after seeing Sophie like that.
She was already beautiful without any makeup, but Jules did a fucking great job highlighting her best features, which made Sophie look absolutely breathtaking.
It’s no wonder Mo looked at her as if she were a mirage.
And the worst part is that she has no idea about the effect she has on others.
She doesn’t seem to realize that she could probably turn every man’s head if she wanted to.
With her full lips, amber eyes, and soft features, she looks so innocent that guys would line up to be her first. Because it’s literally written all over her face that she’s still a virgin, and for some reason, some men are into changing that fact in an incredibly misogynistic and disgusting way.
The thought alone makes my blood boil. I may not be a saint, either, but the last thing I want for Sophie is to get laid by some random scumbag, only to be nothing more than a notch in their bedpost afterward.
All of a sudden, her words from this morning come to my mind.
I want to know what love feels like.
There’s not much I’d wish more for Sophie than for her to be able to experience exactly that. But I also know how this world works. And although I have no clue what her ideas about love are, I suspect they are far from reality.