Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
The short drive had done nothing to settle Sofia’s nerves. If anything, the silence had amplified the weight of everything said in the diner. Now, standing in the muted silence of her room, the lock clicked shut behind them.
Tonio had followed her—had insisted, quietly but firmly, that he check she was safe after the attack. The only light came from a single lamp, casting long shadows across his face. She hesitated, her back against the door, searching for words in the space between them.
“I don’t know why I called you,” she admitted, her voice quiet, wanting to get this out. “I just... did.” She lifted her gaze to his. “And I don’t know when I started trusting you. I don’t even know if I should. But you came for me without any hesitation.”
Tonio stood by the table, watching her. He didn’t tense or move, just waited, still and unreadable.
“I’ve spent my whole life keeping people at a distance,” she went on. “Even when I let them close, it’s never all the way.” Her arms crossed tightly. “But after everything that happened... You were the first person I wanted to talk to. That need scares me.”
Tonio didn’t flinch. He took a single, measured step forward. Every instinct her mother had carved into her screamed to retreat.
“The desire I feel for you terrifies me,” she whispered, the confession louder than a shout in the quiet room. “Because I don’t know what that means.”
For a long moment, he said nothing. The hum of the minibar filled the silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, threading through the shadows.
“It means you don’t have to know.” The words were steady, an anchor in the quiet room. “There is no meaning to dissect. Just enjoy the moments life places before you. I have been doing this for years.”
Sofia blinked, the words sinking in. Relief loosened something tight in her chest. She exhaled, small and cautious—then caught the way his gaze lingered, shifting the air between them.
She should’ve looked away. Instead, she leaned into the quiet comfort of him, the part of her that knew better already too far gone.
Then the air shifted. His gaze flicked to her lips before meeting her eyes again, and her pulse jumped. She should say something, pull back, break whatever this was before it tipped too far. But she didn’t. Couldn’t.
“Tonio,” she started, but the word dissolved.
He didn’t make her finish. His hand rose, fingers brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was electric. She froze, breath catching—but didn’t pull away.
“You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just let me be here.”
Sofia swallowed hard, eyes flicking to his lips.
The world outside faded into nothing. There was only his thumb stroking her jaw, the intensity in his gaze, and the terrifying, thrilling sense of falling.
Before she could second-guess it, she leaned in.
Tonio didn’t hesitate. He met her halfway, his lips brushing hers—soft, certain.
Not rushed. Not desperate. Almost gentle.
Different from the passion at the diner.
Her hand found the rough fabric of his jacket, clutching it as the kiss deepened—slow, careful, yet devastating in its intensity.
Their lips brushed, then pressed harder, hungrier.
His tongue slid against hers, a hot, teasing clash that stole her breath and fed the fire pooling low in her belly.
Each stroke, each glide, felt like he was learning her from the inside out, unraveling her one sensual, molten sweep at a time.
When they finally parted, his forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling in the shallow space between them.
His thumb brushed her cheekbone, his breath as unsteady as her own. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a surrender—one she hadn’t meant to give, to someone she wasn’t supposed to trust.
The next morning, Sofia woke slowly, the soft light slipping through the motel curtains.
She woke with his scent still on her skin.
For one dizzying second, she wanted to burrow into it—then the reality of that want jolted through her.
Since when did she let someone this close? Since when did she want to?
Twelve apartments, twelve new locks—her mother’s gospel: Keep them out, or they’ll hollow you.
Sofia wrinkled her nose and pushed aside the phantom voice of her mother.
Tonio wasn't a threat to be managed. He was a shelter she hadn’t had to build.
She stayed under the sheet, the memory of his heat still pressed into her skin like armor against yesterday’s panic.
She forced herself out of bed, her limbs heavy.
A quick, scalding shower steadied her. She dressed in slim black jeans, a blue sweater hoodie, and sturdy boots—clothes she could move in.
When she opened the door, Tonio was already there.
He leaned against the hallway wall, dark and composed, the dangerous man from last night resurrected in full. In his hand, he held a latte.
For her. Sofia blinked, startled, then smiled as she took it. “Thank you.”
He nodded once, pushing off the wall with effortless grace. Business now. No softness.
“Here’s the play,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “You’re the decoy.”
Her breath caught. “Decoy?”
His gaze hardened a fraction. “Go to the church. You go in. Sit. Be seen. Talk to Father Gabriel if you can. While they focus on you, I’ll be getting answers from a source you’re better off never knowing.”
She swallowed, her fingers tightening around the rental car keys. Sofia stood there a moment, latte warming her hands, heart pounding. Soon she was in the car and driving out to the church.
Today felt different. She was going to find answers from Father Gabriel. Sofia was well into her journey when the car wobbled, jerking slightly to the side. Her stomach dropped.
No, no, no.
The flat tire was an ugly, final punctuation mark on a plan that had felt solid just an hour ago. Sofia eased onto the gravel shoulder, the crunch of stones loud in the quiet. Fields stretched out on either side, empty and indifferent. Not a single car had passed since the wobble began.
The wind whispered through the tall grass, raising goosebumps on her arms. She was exposed—a sitting duck on a forgotten stretch of road.
Her mind scrambled for a solution—any that didn’t involve him.
She didn’t want to seem needy. She could change the tire herself.
She popped the trunk and stared at the spare, the jack, the wrench—a collection of cold, unfamiliar metal.
She didn’t even know where to begin, and the thought of the car slipping off the jack made her stomach knot.
Maybe she could just drive on it. She crouched to check. The tire wasn’t just low; it was shredded, a flat puddle of rubber. Driving on it would destroy the rim in minutes.
Defeated, she slumped against the side of the car. She raised her phone, its screen a mocking beacon of full battery, but the signal icon was a hollow zero.
No Service.
Panic, cold and sharp, pricked her throat. A tow truck was a fantasy out here. She was utterly cut off. She had to call Tonio.
She scrambled to the top of the gravel shoulder, arm stretched high, phone dancing in her hand as she searched for a single, precious bar. The wind snatched her breath. Nothing. She ran further down the road, shoes sinking into the dirt, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs.
Then a flicker. One bar, ghostly and unstable. It was enough. She punched in the number before the signal could flee.
He answered on the second ring, his voice low and alert. “Yes?”
“Hey, it’s Sofia.” She tried to sound casual, but it came out tight. “Listen, I—”
“What’s wrong?” he cut in, all suspicion gone, replaced by sharp focus.
Relief hit her, a wave so potent it left her knees unsteady. “Flat tire. I’m stranded. The signal is bad out here.”
“Where?” The question was a command.
She turned, scanning the emptiness—the fields, the gnarled oak, the faded green sign. “Uh... the middle of nowhere? State Route something. Mile marker 146. I was heading to the church.”
She heard the jangle of keys, the slam of a car door, and an engine roaring to life. “Stay in the car. Lock the doors. I’m fifteen minutes out.”
The line went dead. Her phone went black. For the first time since the car shuddered, she took a full breath. He would come for her.
When the black SUV pulled up twenty minutes later, she smiled. The window slid down, revealing Tonio. His dark eyes scanned her, the car, and the fields, then settled on her.
“Car trouble?” he asked, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips.
Sofia hugged her arms around herself. “No, I just pulled over for the scenic view.”
The gloves were on before he left the SUV—black, pristine. He stepped out, his presence eating up the space around them. He crouched by the tire, his gloves tracing the rubber. The gash was long, straight, almost surgical—too clean for gravel, too deep for a stray nail.
Sofia’s pulse stuttered. Road debris doesn’t slice like that… does it?
His eyes flicked from the gash to the road ahead, his shoulders tightening. When he looked up, his gaze burned cold. He pressed the rubber; it didn’t flex like a puncture. It parted.
“This wasn’t wear. This was cut,” he said, his voice lethal. “I suspect they are waiting for you ahead, or perhaps they hoped you would crash.” The air left her lungs. The empty landscape turned into a kill box.
Before fear could take hold, he was already moving—sharp, controlled, furious. He went to her trunk, popping it with a violent precision that looked less like fixing a tire and more like countering an attack.
“You don’t have to—” she started.
“Get in the car,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Lock the doors.”