I make my way out the front, deciding to walk up the long drive after leaving the front door open.
The chilly air is invigorating, I figure a short walk will give me time to clear my head. Sophie will come out any minute now and follow me no doubt, knowing her.
I turn back a couple of times to see her, but once I pass the bend in the driveway the whole house is out of sight.
I shiver a little, wishing I’d put a little more on myself. Wishing I had pockets to thrust my hands into. The coast is warm during the day, but tonight, there’s a cold wind blowing in.
Maybe a storm is coming.
I’m not quite sure of the order of things.
I either see the gate hanging off its hinges first or I hear Sophie’s scream carry on the wind.
Either way, I suddenly feel like the biggest fool alive. I’ve done the one thing I swore I’d never do: let her out of my reach for a second.
I can’t feel my feet on the freezing gravel as I sprint, nor can I feel the stabbing chill inside my chest as I try to breathe, because I can’t.
The thought of them.
With Sophie.
It’s too much. I’ll never forgive myself.
The house is open at both ends, I left the front door open and Sophie let herself outback.
I skid across the sandstone tiles inside, my feet bleeding and not caring one bit, and rush out to the place I know she was headed, the little greenhouse.
Before I even reach it, I can see a cracked pane and once I stand at the door, the moon passing through dark clouds illuminates her phone resting next to a shattered pot plant.
I grab her phone, clutching it to my chest as I let out a roar of despair.
God, My Sophie! I’m Sorry!
I spin on my heels, racing from one end of the garden to the next, and then all through the house. Even back out to the driveway again, but it’s obvious.
She’s gone.
They’ve taken her.
It’s not the cold that’s frozen me but the realization I’m helpless.
Sure, Partridge is on his way, and then what? He’ll give me the whole ‘do what we can’ speech.
Local police will get involved once her dad finds out, but people get snatched by the mob every day, most never return to even tell the tale.
I feel numb, in shock.
I busy myself with cleaning up as best I can and getting dresses properly. If I’m gonna be of any use, I can’t be running around barefoot in a robe.
Sophie’s phone rings and I answer it, expecting it to be her somehow.
“Sophie?” I ask pleadingly.
A low sound from the other end tells me it’s not Sophie.
It’s Enrico.
“Talk to me, Slade,” he says gruffly. “I’m seeing federal choppers on radar heading to my villa.”
“How did you-” I start to ask, but he’s through with being the patient, helping me out kinda guy.
“Federal. Fucking. Choppers, Slade. Talk!” he shouts, and I can hear his hand smashing down onto something.
Sounds like little Enrico is not so little anymore.
“It’s Partridge… he’s coming to get me. They took Sophie,” I stammer, not even caring that I’ve started to crack.
“Took her, how?” he asks incredulously as if I must be kidding him.
“In the greenhouse… I was checking the gate out front… they took her, just left her phone, and smashed one of the plants,” I blubber, trying to collect myself.
“They what?” Enrico asks coldly, his tone so forceful, so commanding, I repeat everything without hesitating.
“The plant-”
He growls, interrupting me. “Which one?”
“Uh, I dunno, some red and yellow thing,” I tell him, wondering what the fuck that has to do with anything.
He sighs bitterly, and it’s a full minute before he even has the composure to talk.
“I’ll handle this, Slade. Just stay put, don’t fucking move and for god’s sake, don’t touch that plant and shut the fucking greenhouse will ya?”
The line goes dead and instead of relieved, I feel more confused than ever.
A few minutes pass and I start to feel anger again, it’s stabilizing.
Empowering.
I stand up, tall and ready, feeling every fiber of my body tense and ready for not just action but revenge.
The time for trying to deal with De Falco peacefully is over. I’ll never be the one to put him in a cage, not after what he’s done.
I need to set things right the only way they can be.
An eye for an eye.
That’s the De Falco way.
That’s the mafia way.
I go through the parts of the house I can access one more time, this time opening every drawer and cupboard, checking every panel for a false bottom.
It doesn’t take me long to uncover what I want.
Enough small arms and ammunition to maybe even take on the De Falco family, but I just need one gun, one bullet.
The sound of a chopper overhead brings me to my senses. I stare at the gun and the box of ammo.
I’ve never hurt anyone in my life. Am I gonna start today?
I really don’t know yet, but I tuck it all away in my backpack and make my way outside, pulling the door shut behind me.
The chopper is out front, right by the door and I lower myself and try to make my way through the dust and debris it’s throwing up, making my way to the small door that’s open on one side.
I’ve never been in a helicopter before, and this one obviously wasn’t built for the comfort of a six foot five man either.
It’s empty in the back but I find a headset and put it on while the door silently closes, and I feel my stomach lurch as the ground beneath us suddenly disappears.
The headset crackles and I can hear some radio chatter I’m certain isn’t intended for me.
“Three choppers? Well… Looks like we got him just in time, patch me through- oh!”
There’s some silence but I recognize one of the voices.
“You caught the right bird, Slade. Congratulations, pity I didn’t have time to have someone collect my plant but never mind. I’ll make sure De Falco pays for what he’s done… and I don’t just mean your girlfriend.”
Enrico!
“But I thought-” I start to say, but he cuts me off.
“I can’t chat Slade. I’m a little tied up myself at the minute, plus I think we’re about even in the favors stakes. This chopper will take you to safety, or to the warehouse where Sophie is… which would you prefer?”
I growl in answer, not liking Enrico’s sudden attempts at humor.
“I thought so,” he says seriously.
“I just heard that Partridge and his feds have almost landed, but there was another chopper too… trying to get you before we did,” he muses, the radio dropping out though and I can barely hear him.
“De Falco,” I deduce aloud, shaking my head and feeling sick with rage all over again.
“Correct. Good luck, Slade. You’ll need it from here on out,” Enrico says. I have a million questions, but the radio crackles again before going silent. I can’t see the pilot and I try asking him something through the headset, but it’s been switched off.
The chopper flies for what feels like all night but is really just over an hour before landing.
The door slides open and I step out onto a rooftop, shielding my eyes again before it takes off.
Once it’s quiet, I wonder if Enrico was right.
Maybe his nice guy act was just that, since losing his plant and having his villa exposed to the feds he might’ve hung me out to dry.
I crouch behind some air conditioning vents, fishing in my back pack for the gun.
I think it’s loaded.
I’ve never done the gun thing before, seen plenty but never had or even used one before but it should be enough for now.
I make my way to the edge of the rooftop, looking down.
I recognize the streetscape instantly.
This is the safe house building, where I was being kept by Partridge.
The sound of cars and a large van grab my attention, and I can see, even from up here that there’s a bit of a motorcade at the entrance.
I strain to see in the dark, but once the van opens, I can see three people being led out with sacks over their head.
I’d know Sophie’s curves from space, and I almost shout out as soon as I see her, but as quickly as I see them, they disappear into the building and the cars, van, all move away quickly but quietly.
The banging of a door makes me jump and I spin with my gun raised, but it’s just a stairwell door, flung open by the wind.
And it’s my one chance to get inside.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sophie
I can still feel Ben’s eyes as I walk out into the garden, and the breeze is definitely now a wind.
I almost think I can hear Ben following me down, but turning there’s no one there, just the wind.
I notice some of the watering gear has blown over and move into the greenhouse to set it straight.
Feeling a huge presence behind me, blocking out the wind and smile to myself.
“Maybe you wanna see how hot it gets in the greenhouse?” I purr, turning around before I realize it’s not Ben at all.
I try to scream, but nothing comes out.
The huge, ugly man in front of me is grinning a half toothless smile that tells me he likes my idea a lot.
Once he takes a step closer and I feel his hands on me, I find my voice.
I scream.
I scream my head off, hoping that Ben will hear me wherever he is.
The man is massive and I’m no match for his strength which annoys me more than anything.
The only thing at hand is a potted plant, which I snatch up and smash against his jaw, which only makes him smile harder.
He drags me outside, and I get one more decent lungful of air before I feel him spin me around, pressing something hot and fouls smelling over my mouth.
I can see the green house, the broken pot and then my phone lying next to it.
I try to scream out for Ben one more time, but I feel so tired and dizzy. The sensation takes over me before I finally succumb to nothing but darkness.
I figure I must be dreaming. I can hear my dad’s voice and someone else.
A woman, it sounds like they’re arguing.
My head’s pounding and I feel like I’m gonna be sick, but when I try to move, I can’t.
A moment of terror sees my eyes shooting open as I become aware of the gradual movement of a van, or whatever it is I’m inside.
I’m upright in a seat, but my hands are behind my back, painfully stretched which makes me gasp for air.
Fortunately, I can breathe at least and the sound of voices stops until I hear one of them again.
“I’m sorry, Sophie. They made me call you. They made me do it so they could trace you. I didn’t know that at the time. I was really just wanting to make sure you were okay.”
“Oh, daddy!” I cry.
I don’t mean to sound like such a little girl, but seeing him is the next best thing to Ben right now and I burst into tears, wishing I could move my hands and arms to hug him.
“They grabbed me at the airport, once I flew back after Partridge told me what happened. I thought they were feds, they looked legit enough.” My dad groans, showing his years with bad eyesight and less sharpness than he had twenty years ago.
The huge ogre that grabbed me is sitting opposite us on a bench seat with someone else next to him who has a sack over her head.
I know it’s a she from the heels, the dress, and the overpowering aroma of her perfume.
It’s good stuff, but way too much of it. I half wonder if that’s why she has a sack over her.
I have so much I want to tell my dad, but don’t want to say anything in front of this brute, or the woman under the sack for that matter.
My dad starts talking again, and Mr. Big raises his hand, threatening to hit him with it if he doesn’t keep quiet.
“Go ahead, asshole. You’re already looking at twenty to life, what’s one more slap gonna get ya?” he snarls bitterly, turning to me again.
“I’m just glad you’re safe honey, they said you were with Ben Slade but he’s been missing, dead for weeks now,” he continues, glaring at the guy and daring him to hit him again.
The woman under the sack gives a sarcastic grunt.
“Ha! Ben Slade, fat lot of good he’s done, anyone. Always seems to disappear when everybody else is getting snatched,” she spits.
“I think they should have used tape as well as the sack,” Dad retorts, rolling his eyes. “Don’t mind her, sweetie, she’s just the root cause of this whole mess.”
The huge guy growls, making his eyes wide with anger as he leans forward, I realize now that he can’t speak so he has to let his hands do all the talking.
“Hey!” I caution him, giving him a fierce look of my own. “We’re tied up in your stupid van what harm is there in talking to my own dad, you big… bully!” I snap at him.
He looks hurt for a moment, his wide eyes showing something else before he turns his head to one side, pretending to look somewhere else.
My dad smiles a little shaking his head as he whispers, “You would’ve made a great cop, Sophie.”
I feel like hitting back with some hard truths when he tells me that, but I figure words are a luxury for now, so I decide to keep them to myself.
Sack woman doesn’t seem to care whether she’s heard talking or not. “I asked him to meet with me, to help me but oh no,” she continues, whining now. Her nasal voice seeming to get higher in pitch as well as louder.
I don’t need a formal introduction to know this must be the famous, or rather infamous District Attorney, Daniella Fellini under the sack.
“What’s going to happen, dad?” I ask, hoping he’ll have an answer.
But his look does little to make me feel any better.
“Truth?” Daniella says, almost slurring her words with sarcasm from under the sack. “They’ll take us someplace and do what they wished they’d done a week ago, blow our brains out. Game over,” she mumbles and then starts to sob uncontrollably.
My eyes dart to our captor, who looks at his feet, embarrassed under my stern gaze.
“Really?” I ask him. But he won’t look at me.
I turn to look at my dad and his face says it all.
Afraid so, sweetie. That’s just how these people operate.
But I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. Just a few hours ago I was in the arms of the man I love, the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. The man who’s bound to me.
Ben wouldn’t just let all this happen without doing something about it.
Ben will save us, I just know he will.
“Where’s Partridge?” I whisper to my dad as we hit a bump in the road. “They haven’t got him too?”
Dad shakes his head in the negative, giving a weak smile but I can already see he’s starting to think like Malibu Sack head Barbie over there.
I’ve never seen my dad look so beaten, and if it wasn’t for Ben, I’d probably feel the same as he does right now, hopeless.
“Did you really set Ben up?” I ask the sack. If we really are going to die, I’d like to know the truth before I go, in case Ben’s too late. I want to hear her side of it so I don’t jump to any conclusions.
There’s a loud sigh from the sack and the huge guy next to her sighs too, giving me a look that says ‘at least keep your voices down.’
“I admit, Ben Slade rejected my advances a long time ago. It hurt, but I would never knowingly endanger his life,” she says, sounding honest enough but my dad coughs.
“I got an offer, right in the middle of all these cases I was working on, to finally prosecute the whole De Falco family and about a dozen others. It would have been the case of the c
entury,” she says, letting out another little sigh as she sags into her seat.
“But?” I ask, not even meaning to sound so bitter but it draws the truth from her like nothing else.
“Honey, whoever you are ten million dollars is a lot of reasons not to give a shit about anything anymore. Wait ‘til you’re my age, where you have to spend an hour getting made up and another hundred on booze just so a man will look at ya, let alone wanna spend the rest of his life with ya.”
I get ready to snap back when I see the huge guy moving to snatch the sack off her face, ready to see some hideous, vile creature.
But when he does, I just see big hair and lots of make up, nice teeth though and eyes that look sad and lonely.
Muted ogre leans over, pouting. I can tell he’s offering his services if she feels like she needs a man for the rest of her very short life.
He puts his finger harshly to his lips, shushing us all and then he puts a sack over each of our heads one by one.
At first I think he’s joking, but when I have trouble breathing properly, I start to freak.
I call out for Ben and although I can hear my dad telling me everything’s gonna be alright, I know it’s not.
Daniella Fellini laughs.
A bitter, scornful laugh that changes my opinion about her forever.
If we have to die, I think to myself, I hope to fuck she gets it first, so I can watch.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ben
Somebody asked me recently what I was trying to do, was I trying to take on the whole mafia all by myself?
If I was, did I really expect to survive, let alone win?
That was before they snatched Sophie, and if anyone was dumb enough to ask me the same question right now, I’d let my fists do the talking.
No more games, no more phone calls or planning prosecution.
Tonight, I’m judge jury and maybe even executioner if it has to come down to that.
Plus, it’s not exactly the whole Mafia tonight.
It’s just De Falco and his goons from what I can make out, although I’ve yet to catch a glimpse of the man himself.
I steal down into the dark stairwell, until a sudden thought stops me.
Maid For The Mafia Informant: An Instalove Possessive Alpha Romance Page 11
