As if in a trance, she automatically goes to the phone and picks it up.
We both know who it’s going to be.
At least, I think we do. It is his house after all.
I know we should be safe here, but I instinctively go to the window while she picks up the phone, I check the quiet suburban street and half expect to see a convoy of mob cars ferrying goons to come kill us.
But the street is empty.
It’s a quiet morning in a quiet well to do neighborhood.
And yeah. It’s her dad on the phone.
Why do I feel fifteen all of a sudden?
Sophie’s an adult, legally. She can make her own decisions, but there’s something in the way her old man’s behavior, even over the phone that makes me edgy too.
I’ve never had direct dealings with his precinct, but I know cops, and the thought of one of them finding me in bed with their only daughter?
I don’t need to use my imagination to know how the man would feel if he found out.
I mean, when he finds out. I don’t plan on hiding being with Sophie in the same way I have to avoid certain crime families and their employees right now.
I want the whole world to know I love her, but her dad?
Maybe just not this morning, if I can help it. And I’m pretty sure Sophie feels the same way.
Not wanting to freak her out by standing staring out the window, I try to move past her, to give her some privacy on her call. But she clutches my hand as I walk by the couch, gripping me so hard I almost spin on my heel, I decide to stay; kneeling down beside her and feeling her relax some as she starts to play with my hair.
Talking to her dad, which is strange.
She’s holding the receiver in such a way that I can hear most of what her dad is saying, I make sure I don’t make any noises to alert him that I’m in his house. With his daughter.
“Yeah, I did take the car, daddy. It’s alright. I took it for a run and brought it here,” she tells him once he asks about the car, first up.
It sounds like his security company alerted him the car was moved, he didn’t want to call her late last night so he’s calling her now just to make sure it’s as he figured.
There’s the usual father-daughter stuff, I guess until I notice how much Sophie’s actually trembling.
She’s actually afraid of this man.
I feel like snatching the phone from her, letting him know that Ben Slade is in charge now, but her pleading eyes and fingers gripping mine keep me quiet.
Suddenly, her dad announces he has another call. Gotta go, love you blah, blah, blah.
Sophie hangs up, but I can see the impact the call’s had on her.
I can see she doesn’t want us to stay here a second longer.
“He’s there for two weeks, right?” I remind her, stroking her hair back.
She feigns a smile, nodding but hugs herself in an attempt to stop her shaking.
The phone rings again, seeming louder this time or maybe it’s because we’re right next to it. She picks it up, and at the same instant, I hear the screech of tires outside and the sound of heavy footfall just like on her stairs the night before.
I feel my own jolt of panic, straining to hear what Sophie’s dad is saying once he calls back.
Why has he called back?
The pounding on the door is unmistakable.
Cops.
I’m surprised it took them this long, but it also sounds like Sophie’s dad, Superintendent Matt Moore has just learned a few things too.
I know I have to go, but I’m not going anywhere without Sophie, and she hasn’t let go of my hand this whole time all either.
I cup her face with my free hand, mouthing the words it’s gonna be okay before she lets me go.
I know I have to hide at least. Trying to make a break for it now would be stupid, so I scout the hallway, spotting a bathroom, and lock myself inside, making sure I’m close enough to the front door to hear what’s going on.
Sophie doesn’t hang up, but sets the phone down just long enough to open the front door, obviously following her father’s instructions.
My own paranoia maybe, but it sounds like there’s only two or three plus Partridge after all.
One stays by the front door and the other stomps past the door I’m up against, assumingely going to cover the rear of the house as Partridge takes the phone and lets Sophie’s dad know he’s there before hanging up.
I can hear Partridge, but Sophie’s gone quiet.
“Your dad knows we’re here. I had to fill him in on the way just now. Y’know? Leaving your own apartment last night wasn’t the best move, Sophie,” he says, berating her, making my jaw tighten as I fight the urge not to rush out and clobber him one.
I’m glad they didn’t think to look for her here last night, but at the same time… If she really had been in danger, what the hell were they doing?
I hear my name mentioned, which forces me to focus, still straining to hear as they both move towards the kitchen.
“We would’ve got to you sooner, but… Well, I can’t go into all the details, but Ben Slade is missing. Presumed dead. His attackers are on the loose and there’s been total chaos overnight involving every crime family in the Tristate area. You’ll have to come with us I’m afraid, Sophie. For your own safety.”
I hear Sophie’s voice now, getting louder as she protests.
“I’m not going anywhere, this house is safer than anywhere else plus you just said so yourself, someone was taken from one of your so-called safe houses,” she says loudly, practically shouting and I know it’s so I can hear her.
“Your dad told me as much himself,” Partridge mutters.
Taking a chance, I open the door a little so I can hear them a little better.
“Needless to say, Sophie. Your dad wasn’t too impressed either that we roped you in on the whole maid for the informant job either,” Partridge sighs.
I’m glad they did.
“He’s heading back to town as we speak, he’ll be on the next flight so I guess you staying here until then isn’t such a crazy idea.”
Fuck!
“I’ll leave the two men here to watch the house until your dad gets home. You’re right, safer here as anywhere else.”
Double fuck!
Chapter Thirteen
Sophie
“Something the matter?” Partridge asks, that sly look coming into his eyes. The same look I saw him give Ben at the safe house.
I don’t say a word, just shake my head as I start to clear up our breakfast leftovers.
Bad move.
I know I have to clear it away before dad gets back, he’s so anal about everything to do with food and cleanliness, but Partridge isn’t all that stupid either.
There’s two of everything.
“Big breakfast,” he says, almost under his breath as his head cocks, like he’s suddenly on the alert.
I feel a stab of panic but hold my own. Putting my hand on my hip, I turn and give him a sassy look.
“All this, it doesn’t just happen by itself,” I tell him with melodrama, motioning a hand over my hips and thighs which I’m sure he can see the outline of through my silk robe.
He thinks for a second, then chuckles quietly to himself.
“Sorry, Sophie. I didn’t mean anything by that.”
But I know he did, and he’s not buying the Sophie always eats two breakfasts from two sets of plates story either.
“So? You took your dad’s car from your apartment and came straight here last night?” he asks me, sounding more like his job description than he ever has.
I shrug, trying to prove my own lie by helping myself to a leftover piece of bagel from Ben’s plate.
“I guess,” I say vaguely, almost grabbing him when he moves past me.
“Where are you going?” I ask, my urgency betraying me. Giving Partridge all the ammo he needs.
“Just looking around,” he says coolly, moving slowly from one room
to the next, opening a door here and pulling back a curtain there.
He knows.
I have no idea where Ben is in the house, but I’m pretty sure he must’ve ducked into the bathroom nearest us both otherwise he would’ve been spotted by now.
I almost scream when Partridge suddenly makes for the bathroom, calling out for him not to go in there.
“Why not?” he asks dryly, “I need to use the bathroom, that alright?”
I make a face, saying something about me being the last to use it, how he’d be better using the one upstairs.
“I’ll take a chance,” he retorts and pushes the door open suddenly, looking inside.
I’m sure that’s it for Ben. He may as well come out and we can stop playing this game, but Partridge suddenly doesn’t need to go anymore, only smiles at me before closing the door and walking back past me, up towards the stairs.
Now I am confused.
Where the hell are you Ben?
“False alarm,” he says softly, changing his mind about upstairs and deciding to hang nearer the kitchen, so he can keep quizzing me.
“You know, Sophie? If you have seen or heard from Ben Slade, even if it was last night, you’re not in any trouble. We just need to find out exactly what happened.”
“And what did exactly happen?” I ask. “And why should he try and contact me? Didn’t you just say he was snatched by the mob?” I ask, reversing his line of questioning right back at him, making him grimace and sigh loudly again.
“I’ll be honest with you, Sophie. We don’t know exactly what happened. But whoever went in that room tore the place to shreds and left the guard in such a bad way I don’t know if we’ll get much out of him any time soon, if ever again,” he adds with calculated drama.
I bite my lip, suddenly more worried than ever for Ben.
It dawns on me, he’s not playing a game at all. This really is life or death stuff. These mobsters, they’ll stop at nothing.
“Can you really protect him?” I hear myself asking, knowing I may as well be pointing upstairs or somewhere in the house shouting, ‘he’s in there, in there!’
But I don’t care anymore, the thought of Ben in danger makes me so scared all I want is to know he’ll be safe.
That Partridge and his department can help get Ben’s case pushed forward so all these criminals can be locked up.
But Partridge doesn’t call me out, only looks down at his feet, sucking his teeth.
“I really don’t know, Sophie. I just don’t know. One thing I can tell you…” he adds, perking my interest further.
“And I don’t even know why I’m telling you is this, that the room opposite Ben’s had the city’s District Attorney in it, Daniella Fellini. She’s missing now too, but her room was untouched. The CCTV caught her leaving with three unidentified men. What would you make of that?” he adds leaning forward on his feet. Like he really would like to know what I think.
“She’s the one who ratted him out, told the mob where he was,” I hear myself saying slowly, watching Partridge nod his head in agreement.
“Pretty bright for a maid,” he says to himself, turning away and looking out the window.
“Cops daughter’s instinct,” I tell him, half-smiling, but feeling the pit of my stomach drop again as my mind reels.
How many people can Ben trust? How many people can I trust?
Partridge?
He turns sharply, giving me a look that seems to match the questions I’m asking myself.
And just how much more danger am I putting him in by having him here?
God, I wish Partridge and his men would just leave so I could actually talk to Ben.
I need to talk to him more than ever now, but I don’t want to blow it entirely.
Partridge’s phone rings suddenly, making me jump.
He nods and grunts then hangs up.
“I have to go now, the other two will watch you until your dad gets back, then it’s up to him what happens with you, I guess,” he says matter of fact.
“What is it?” I ask, hoping for fresh news from his call. But he frowns, giving me some of that attitude he likes to tease Ben with.
“That’s police business,” he says calmly, and he lets himself out.
My instinct is to search the house for Ben, but one of the policemen comes in from outback, his hand on his belly.
He’s blocking my way up the stairs as he asks if he can use a bathroom.
I glance at the one Partridge just looked into, “Go ahead,” I say, almost rolling my eyes, “that one’s free.”
The cop hurries himself to the bathroom and I hear a dull thud, followed by some groans.
Ewww. Other people using the bathroom.
I’m halfway up the stairs when I hear a hiss from behind me.
It’s Ben.
His mouth is on mine before I can say anything, and I feel a new kind of excitement inside me.
Without him having to tell me, I know we have to go.
We have to dress and get out of here in seconds, not minutes.
“Toilet guy?” I ask, making a face, wincing harder as Ben apologizes.
“Sorry. He’ll be okay, but your bathroom’s gonna need cleaning. Know anyone?” he says, his lip curling into a smile. “C’mon, let’s go.”
Stealing back up to my room, we hurriedly dress and I don’t even mind how Ben looks away this time. I know if he sees me naked again we’ll be in more trouble than we’re trying to get away from.
I wish I could say the same for myself though.
Seeing his body flex and tense as he dresses is enough to give me an instant wet patch and forget everything.
All I want is Ben.
Sensing my mood, he looks at me sternly and I recover myself, enough to get dressed and whisper to ask him what I’ll need to take.
“Phone, cash, passport,” he says and I feel a stab of fear again.
Passport?
“Just in case,” he tells me, reading my concern, all of those things are in the safe in my dad’s study.
I shake my head. “Cash, yeah but passport no. It’s all locked up.”
Ben doesn’t seem to mind, but I can almost hear the word Mexico filtering through his mind.
“I could try and get it, it would take a minute though,” I offer. He shushes me suddenly, craning his neck, and then readily agrees.
“If you can, grab it,” he says with continued urgency. “I’ll go check on our other friend.”
I feel bad, almost dirty helping myself to my dad’s safe.
It’s where we keep the most important documents, even a gun, and some ammo but I only take what’s mine.
I have no cash, except the cash check from the maid job, plus my phone.
I’m about as ready as I’ll ever be.
Ben startles me at the study door, making me jump and squeal out loud.
One look from him tells me that our two guards aren’t gonna be a problem, for a while anyway.
“Car?” he asks aloud, transmitting the silent question I know he has about the Mustang being trackable.
“Blue wire next to the battery,” I tell him and he kisses me briefly.
High tech on an older car never works, and it’s child’s play to disable the tracking unit, which Ben does in seconds before he raises a brow.
I can tell he wants to drive.
“If you know where we’re going, be my guest,” I tell him, tossing him the keys which he grabs with a grin that falters.
“You do know where we’re going, right?” I ask him again.
“Anywhere but here, for now. Before those cops wake up and your dad gets home.” Is all he says and as much as I dislike it, I have to agree with him.
Chapter Fourteen
Ben
I overheard enough from Partridge to know that DA Fellini maybe isn’t quite as blond as she’s been making out. She’s up to her neck in the mob families and ratted me out after either seeing me herself or getting it from that poor bastard
guard she was jumping.
But why was she under federal protection?
I have a lot of catching up to do. The media and internet blackout from my time in the safe house hasn’t done me any good.
And now, I have the biggest reason of all to keep safe, to lay low.
Sophie.
If it were just me, if I knew there was someone I could actually trust, I’d probably go back to Partridge. Work with him and his department to speed up a case that would by now have to include the very person we’d need to get approval from, Daniella Fellini.
How ironic.
But I don’t have just me to worry about now. And I certainly don’t feel like bringing new friends into the fold who I think I can trust.
Sophie’s dad, Matt. I could let him in on it, but no.
There’s gonna be a big enough fight once he finds out I’ve claimed his only daughter.
No.
It’s just me and Sophie against the world.
That’s what it feels like anyway.
I have plenty of cash, so we can hole up in hotels and keep moving. But it might be wise to lose this very conspicuous car, and soon.
All of this rushes through my mind in the first moments of leaving her dad’s house, but it seems the further away we get the more relaxed Sophie is again.
This makes me breathe easier too.
She breaks the silence, calmly asking me why I’ve turned on the mafia. Why would their golden boy attorney, the one who got them out of everything from parking tickets to back taxes suddenly turn on them?
It’s a fair question, and one I can answer easily.
“Money,” I tell her point blank because it’s true. “They owed me millions and put a price on my head once I asked for it, so I decided to play go fuck yourself with a dozen psycho criminal families instead.”
I laugh out loud. A little too loudly, but hearing myself say it like that for the first time is nothing but funny to me.
Not so much for Sophie though.
Watching the road, I take her hand in mine. “Sorry baby. I know it sounds weird, but all this happened before I met you… before us,” I tell her and feeling her hand squeeze mine, I know she understands.
“And which matters most now?” she asks me, not letting go of my hand, giving me the chance to squeeze my own answer right back.
Maid For The Mafia Informant: An Instalove Possessive Alpha Romance Page 7
