Maybe this could be their safe place. A spot to, at the very least, hold each other close.
Blayze brought his other hand to her face and studied her through narrowed eyes, his expression turning serious again. They hadn’t kissed since that night in the cabin, and Sophia had remained confident that Blayze was simply exercising his self-control.
The only thing she’d been unsure about was the type of feelings he had for her. Sure, he was attracted to her; the two had great chemistry after all. But would he really want to pursue things once this was through?
The question was one he likely had to ask himself too. It wasn’t like he would lie about it. Tell her one thing while knowing it wasn’t true.
But as she looked into the depths of those blue, tortured eyes, a realization struck her: perhaps Blayze’s need to be a gentleman extended both ways. Perhaps what he’d really been resisting was telling her the truth—that he didn’t see a future with her at all.
The epiphany was an explosion in her chest. Blazing hot and destructive. The peace she felt moments ago, gone.
“What’s wrong?”
Sophia snapped out of her thoughts long enough to see his face clearly once more. Concern. Maybe even pity.
He wouldn’t want to lie to her; she’d been right about that. It wasn’t in his character. But if he were doing so for—in his mind—the greater good…
“Nothing,” she said, and nuzzled into his chest. Her breaths came fast and hard as she worked to push the discovery out of her head. Why had it never occurred to her that Blayze could simply be stringing her along until this was through, thinking it’d be the nice, gentlemanly thing to do? After all, she was in crisis mode, no need to add to her burden.
Stop it, Sophia. His feelings might be genuine. And even if they weren’t, she wouldn’t want to know. Not yet. Not until she’d delivered her speech. She couldn’t hear that he didn’t really care for her in that way just hours before stepping up to that microphone.
Blayze flattened a strong hand along her back, ran it up, then down. Up, this time toying with the small hairs at the nape of her neck. “It’s going to be all right,” he promised, his deep voice raspy.
She clenched her eyes shut, forcing the dilemma out of her mind. For now, she’d forget about the uncertainty in her life, and enjoy the warmth of being held in Blayze’s comforting embrace, praying it wouldn’t be one of the last they shared.
Chapter 19
Blayze glanced down at his phone to scrutinize the dark image coming through. “Is it on?” he hollered from the front room. Roman had been gracious enough to offer his family home as a rest stop, allowing for a few last-minute details. One being pinning a hidden camera on Sophia.
“I think you’re covering it with your arm,” he called over his shoulder. “It’s just black.” At once the imaged changed, and a bright bedroom came into view. Tiffany, Roman’s wife, stood by a dresser and waved.
“Do you see me?” the woman asked while primping her blonde hair.
“Yep,” Blayze hollered. “Looks like you let Roman pick out all the decorations in there,” he added, noting all the frills and lace. No harm in using a little humor to ease the tension. Tension that—if Blayze were being honest—mounted in more ways than one.
“Shut up,” Roman grumbled from the couch. “When you’re married you’ll let your wife do whatever she wants to that house, trust me.”
Blayze chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Last I checked, Sophia likes a whole lot of bling,” Roman added with a laugh. “Your place will be sparkling like the sun.”
Blayze shot him a look, realizing the implication he’d just made. Mentioning a future wife, then sneaking Sophia’s name in there. It breathed life to what he’d been considering during the drive there. “About the bling,” Blayze said to him, “I think you’re forgetting that I’ve already been inside Sophia’s house. Didn’t see an ounce of it.”
Roman shrugged, tossing both hands in the air. “So what? Don’t see any lacey stuff out here, do you? They save it all for the bedroom.”
“Who saves all of what for the bedroom?” Tiffany asked as she entered the front room.
Roman stammered around the question while Blayze caught eyes with Sophia. “You look…” he shook his head and gulped. “Perfect.” Sophia normally favored clothing in darks, blues, and grays; she looked amazing in all of them. But the red silky top she wore today accented the warmth in her cheeks. Her form-fitting skirt was black and allowed for a less-than-generous view of her legs. Good. Men would be ogling her enough as it was.
“I like the camera,” Sophia said.
He nodded. “Roman will be watching footage from the SUV while we go inside. I’ll be wearing an earpiece so he and I stay connected the entire time.”
Sophia‘s lips twisted the slightest bit as she locked her eyes on Blayze. For a moment, he wondered if she could somehow read the thoughts in his mind. The ones that continued to tell him—even then—that it was time to tell Sophia how he felt about her. His heart bumped into hyper drive as he wiped a hand over his forehead.
“I was going to say…” Sophia started, “that I like the camera, but the bullet proof vest… feels a little overboard.”
A moment of relief gave way to a new concern. “Overboard?”
“Blayze, I couldn’t even button up my skirt suit, so I had to wear this.” She motioned to the shirt he’d been admiring like it was some sort of travesty.
Blayze stood there with wide eyes. “Sophia, Roman happens to have a female vest sitting here and you want to just waltz up to the podium without it?” He was trying to keep it light, but the truth was, Blayze would put up a fight if Sophia threatened to remove it. “You’ve already got it on now. And that top…” he blew out a whistle. “It looks dang good on you. Let’s just get you out there, let you get your speech done, and you can take it off after. The vest. Not the top.”
Tiff and Roman snickered.
Sophia nodded, and Blayze felt the task on his mind pressing in on him. He needed to get her alone for a moment, before they loaded into the SUV.
“Hey,” he said to Sophia, “why don’t you and I go out to the porch and give Tiff and Roman a minute to catch up.”
“Okay.” Sophia glanced around the living room until her eyes settled on her cat—an orange puffball curled up on the couch. “Thanks again for watching over my precious Chico.”
“Any time,” Tiff said. “He kept me company while Roman was away.”
“Blayze said I can bring her to the cabin, so we’ll be by to get him later tonight.” Sophia stepped over to the corner, steadied herself with the coffee table, and leaned down to plant a kiss on the animal’s head. “Bye, Chico.” She glanced at Roman, who was already nudging his face into Tiff’s hair and making growling sounds. “Guess we’ll be out front.”
“Sounds good to me,” Roman said.
Tiffany let out a squeal before hollering over her shoulder. “Just remember to save all that for the bedroom,” she said with a giggle.
Blayze shook his head, releasing a nervous laugh as he held the screen door open for Sophia. Blue sky, green grass, and a stretch of similar, Spanish style homes greeted them on the other side. White stucco with red, bar tile roofs.
“Roman and Tiffany really love you and your family, don’t they?” Blayze asked, suddenly desperate for a distraction. Perhaps telling her how he felt wasn’t such a great idea.
Sophia stopped walking, dropped her gaze to her feet before glancing back at him. “Yes, they’re awesome. We’re grateful to have them.”
Blayze nodded, leaned against the tunnel-like wall of the breezeway. He soaked a bit of the warmth in as he considered changing direction. Come on, Blayze. Don’t wuss out. He’d kept her at arm’s length long enough. “Listen, I know I’ve been like a yoyo with you, and I’m sorry. But I think you should know —”
“You know what?” Sophia blurted. “Stop. I don’t want you to say anything that’s
going to throw me off right now.”
Blayze straightened, the words I’m falling in love with you fighting for a place at his lips. He tilted his head as her cheeks flushed red. “I’m not sure what you mean. You don’t want me to finish?”
She shook her head stiffly, her shoulders rising high and proud. “No, Blayze, I don’t. Whatever you want to say, it can wait until I deliver this speech. It might be hard for you to understand, but public speaking takes a lot of good energy. And by God’s grace, despite all the crud we’re up against, I’m in a good mental place. If what you’re going to say could alter that in any way… I’d just as soon wait and hear it after all this is through.” Her voice quivered on that last note, and Blayze felt the energy drain from his limbs.
Two opposing ideas battled in his mind. Either Sophia believed he was trying to let her down easy, or she knew he was about to confess his love for her.
His heart pounded angrily out of beat, like it’d been tricked somehow. Because now he didn’t know what to think either. Was Sophia dying to keep his confession off his tongue in effort to spare him the embarrassment? Or was she—like he— sick at the thought of losing what they had?
He felt her coming up behind him, but he couldn’t pull his gaze off the clay-colored cement at his feet. Not yet. He had to shut off the declaration he’d worked so hard to articulate in his mind.
“We’ll have a lot to talk about after today. Let’s save it for when we get back to the cabin. Okay?”
The drive to the university wasn’t long, but it was torturous all the same. It had taken great effort on Blayze’s part to keep his mind off the conversation on the porch. But he still had to figure out who stood—cowered was more like it—behind the threats.
Blayze spent the short time scouring his notes, hoping to find a fresh clue. He started all the way back to day one and the notes he’d made at the campaign office, unable to shake the impression that he was missing something. An answer that hovered just beyond his reach.
Roman weaved through the parking lot of the University. The place was packed with parked cars, buses, and news vans. It might be dead outside, but inside it was sure to be a different story.
Roman nudged the SUV up to a curbside a few exits down from where he’d dropped them off the first time. Security would be there to let them in upon a simple phone call. Sophia brought her hand to the door and turned to him, the panic in him starting to rise.
“We ready?”
He shook his head, brought the phone to his ear, and listened for an answer. “Security,” the voice came.
“Yes, this is Mr. Brockton here with Ms. Vasco. We’re at exit 13 in the west lot.”
“We’re right here to let you in, sir. Please be prepared with your ID.”
Blayze tucked the phone back into his pockets and did a quick weapon check. “Come out my side, if you don’t mind.”
She didn’t argue, merely slid away from her door and toward his side as he opened it.
“I’ll park close by and keep an eye on the footage.” Roman nodded to his phone, which was linked into Sophia’s hidden camera. “As soon as she wraps it up, I’ll be right in this spot waiting.”
Blayze nodded. “Thanks, man.”
At the door they were greeted by two bulky men in suits. After checking their ID, one of the men escorted Sophia and Blayze down the corridor they’d walked through when they first arrived. They were very close to the dark entry at the end of the hall when someone shouted out.
“Ms. Vasco!”
Blayze kept his arm around Sophia, encouraging her to walk quicker. “Ignore them, please.”
“It’s just the interns,” she murmured.
Blayze saw that she was right. Jane, Frank and Matteo were easy enough to spot; the three seemed to be inseparable. Still, Blayze needed to block out any distractions. “Just walk,” he persisted.
“Can we get our picture with you after?” Jane hollered.
Sophia turned to holler over her shoulder. “Umm, might have to wait for another time.”
They followed the security guy into the smaller, darker corridor that led to the back-stage tech department where he’d first heard Sophia speak publicly.
“We’ll take you on stage now, Miss,” the gentleman said, but Blayze reached out an arm and nodded to the screen.
“Not until that woman’s done speaking. Ms. Vasco’s at risk, and I can’t have her out there longer than necessary.”
The man huffed, looked at Sophia for a blink, then leaned back against the wall.
““Let’s make sure the camera’s still working.” Blayze lifted the mouthpiece to his lips. “Roman, how’s the visibility?”
“Think I can see a row of monitors,” Roman said.
“We’re good then.” Just as he said it, Blayze noticed a buzz sounding from his phone. He tugged it from his back pocket and squinted as he checked the bright screen—a text from Zane. Just two words:
Call me
A wave of nausea barreled through his gut. In mere seconds he had to send Sophia onto that stage and now he gets new information?
Blayze shook his head, wishing the guy had just relayed the details through text. He glanced at Sophia. “I’m making a quick call. I’ll keep it short and let you know what’s new.”
Sophia’s eyes went wide and worried. She glanced at the speaker on the screen before turning back to him. “What if I have to go on?”
“Zane?”
“I’m starting to feel like your personal desk jockey here, you know?” Zane grumbled. “You better not forget that I was your commanding officer once.”
“Yeah, I know. What do you got?” Blayze held up a finger, hoping to buy a little time.
“I’ve got some new information that links us back to the dead guy.”
Blayze tilted his head. “Charles Locklear? What is it?” If what Blayze had was anywhere close to spidey-senses, they were tingling like crazy.
“We tracked a credit card charge to the Maraddo Motel after he killed himself. Turns out we missed it on the register because the wife stayed there with their two kids. She’d used her maiden name, Malor, to sign in; my guess is the couple had made some enemies and she didn’t want to be found.”
“Okay,” Blayze said. “So, we could be dealing with the wife or what?”
“The wife’s in a mental hospital,” Zane said, “so I doubt it. But there’s one more connection to the cupcake package she got with the hotel key.”
“Blayze,” Sophia hissed, tapping him on the arm. “I’ve got to go on.”
Blayze glanced up to the monitors in time to see an older woman behind the mic. “…like to welcome the lovely Ms. Sophia Vasco.”
“Wait,” he blurted to her while covering the mouthpiece. “Zane? What did you find?”
The crowd cheered. The camera panned wide.
“I’ve got to go on, Blayze,” Sophia pled. “It’ll be fine.”
The security guard gave him a nod. Sophia kissed the tips of her fingers, holding them out as she stepped toward the lifted stage.
The crowd gave a round of applause as she appeared on several of the monitors. Other monitors offered views of the crowd. “Good evening, everyone, I’m so happy to be here…”
Blayze closed his eyes briefly. Please, God, help me keep her safe. He forced his attention back to the call, desperate to gather whatever nuggets he could. “What was the other connection?” Blayze asked.
“You know how he had two sons right? They’re twenty-one and seventeen now. But get this: The day they checked into the motel… was the oldest son’s birthday.”
“You’re kidding.” Happy Birthday the card had read. “So, the family checked into the Maraddo Motel the day after his father killed himself…”
“That’s right,” Zane said, “which happened to be on the kid’s birthday…”
“What’s his name?” Blayze kept his eyes pasted on the wall of monitors, praying he’d be able to make a connection.
“Victor Ma
lor.”
Victor Malor. The name was foreign to him. “So, where are they now that the mom’s in a hospital?”
“I’ve got River working on that right now. As far as we can tell, they moved in with an aunt. The younger one, Paul, is still there, but Victor moved out two months ago. We’re not sure where.”
What Blayze wouldn’t give to track that kid down. With River on the case, the son would turn up soon enough. “So, is that everything?” Blayze asked.
“That’s all for now. I’ll keep you posted as I hear.”
“Thanks.” Blayze was desperate to look into this guy. As soon as they got back to the cabin, he’d do just that. Blayze took a moment to fill Roman in as Sophia delivered her speech.
Yet even as he relayed the news, something about the scenario felt off. Could a mere kid be capable of running a woman off the road? Physically, it seemed plausible; all he’d have had to do is park his own car along the width of the road. With the sharp curve leading to where the car overturned, she wouldn’t have seen it until it was too late.
But mentally… what kind of torment must he have suffered to arrange that? And then take credit for it later while further threatening the Vasco family? It wasn’t as if keeping Mr. Vasco out of office would benefit a guy who’d lost his father and his fortune.
Once they got back at the cabin, Blayze planned to consider that. The closer he could get to the enemy, the better he could understand him. And that, would be their ticket to catch him.
Blayze thumped his foot against the back wall, sensing that she was wrapping things up. Yes, thank heavens. He could see the hallelujah countdown of that glorious clock. A few minutes more and she’d be safe in his arms. He’d have Roman hightail it out of the lot and they’d be home free and ready to snuff out this threat once and for all.
The Honorable Warrior Page 13
