IT’S THE last evening before we fly back to the Netherlands, and right after dinner, Sophie tugs my hand again, pointing toward the front door. This time, I follow her willingly. I would follow her to the ends of the earth if she asked me to.
We lie down on the springy grass of her front lawn and stare at the moonless sky full of stars. Crickets chirp all around us and I breathe in the sweet smell of grass. I keep stealing glances at her, glad it’s dark and she won’t catch me eyeing her. I was so mean the first time we met.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Her question is so out of the blue, it startles me. I don’t have to think about it, though. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, and it’s what I do best.
“Music,” I say.
“Me too. And a--” She stops and starts mumbling under her breath, then shouts, “Yes! Butterflyrologist.”
I snap my head to the side to look at her, frowning. “What kind of profession is that?”
“The study of butterflies,” she says in an indignant voice.
I bite my cheek to stop laughing. She looks so cute right now. “You’ll make a wonderful butterfly--whatever.”
“Butterflyrologist.”
How can a mouth that small say such a big word?
We continue staring at the sky in silence, until I finally close my eyes, savoring the peacefulness. I feel something flutter on the back of my hand, then fingers linking with mine.
“Why are you always so sad?” she asks, and I can feel her eyes on me. I keep mine closed.
If only I could tell her. But I can’t. I just can’t. “Because life doesn’t come wrapped in ribbons and bows, Butterfly.”
She’s silent for a few seconds. “Butterfly?”
I finally open my eyes, push hair out of my face, and turn to meet her beautiful gaze, so full of kindness. My heart expands in my chest as I stare at her. How can someone like her want to talk to me? I’m short and fat, and I have shaggy hair. I’ve even been mean to her.
“You’re pretty.”
“Thank you,” she says, her hand tightening around mine. “You’re pretty too, when you smile.” She smiles so wide, I’m wondering if her cheeks hurt.
“Boys aren’t supposed to be pretty.”
“You are to me.” Her face takes on that stubborn edge again. It doesn’t go with her soft, pretty face. I like it.
“I’m going to marry you one day.” I’m not sure where that came from. I don’t care. She makes me happy. She makes me smile. When I’m with her, I can forget my life. It’s only been five days, but I think I’m in love with her. Papa returns to Vienna tomorrow, and then we travel to St. Xavier’s in Paris. This might be my only chance to tell her how I feel. “Promise to wait for me, Sophie. I’ll come for you, and take care of you. Even if it kills me.”
She rolls on her stomach to face me. “I will wait for you, Arie.” Then she does the most unexpected thing: she leans forward and plants her soft lips on mine. And right then, with the stars watching and the crickets chirping, I give her my soul.
I SNAP my eyes open and look around the room as the memory fades. Jesus. I know it was just a child’s promise. But it mattered to me back then; it matters to me now. I meant every fucking word.
I didn’t see her again until I was fifteen, but, by then, I couldn’t go back. Everything had changed; my life had changed. It didn’t stop me from following her whenever I could though: sitting in cafés to absorb her beauty and warmth while she chatted with her friends; when she snuck out to attend a concert; even a time when she’d attached herself with cliques and nearly destroyed her life. I was there, and damn if I didn’t punch a few assholes. When she did finally have a boyfriend, all I wanted to do was punch the hell out of him. He wasn’t good for her. No one could ever be good for Sophie.
And now, she’s finally back in my life. I will not lose her again. Even if it kills me.
Dragging a hand through my hair, I snatch my keys from the desk and unhook my jacket from the door on the way to my Jeep.
TWENTY MINUTES later, I’m standing in front of black granite, staring at the headstone with Olivia’s name. I haven’t visited Olivia in a while. I feel like a damn coward right now, standing here.
Fuuuck. I can’t speak past the lump in my throat. What do I say? What do I tell her after what happened the last time we saw each other?
I clear my throat and shove my hands inside my pants pockets.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t visited you in a while. I miss you so much. Please, forgive me.” I utter the same words I’ve spoken over and over. Will she ever forgive me? I haven’t forgiven myself. I don’t know how to.
“I saw Sophie. She is so beautiful, and looks like you. She sings like an angel, and she’s so strong, Olivia. You’d be proud of her. She doesn’t remember me; I have no idea why. Maybe I deserve it after what happened, but I can’t stay away. I’ve been in love with her for a long time. I wish you were here to tell me what to do.”
I glance down at the red tulip petals scattered on the edges of the grave. I crouch and pick one up. I can smell Sophie’s scent. My stomach clenches as I inhale deeply.
“Something is wrong. I think she’s in trouble. I want to help her, but I’m not sure if she’ll let me. I promise you, Olivia. I will not let anything happen to her. She came back to me. That has to mean something, right?” I place the petal back, and step away. “I will see you soon, okay? I promise.”
I turn and walk back toward my car. Something darts across my peripheral vision, disappearing behind a tree. Seconds later, a boyish face peeks out. Then it’s gone again.
What the hell?
Switching directions, I dash toward the tree. The boy ducks around the trunk. Too late, I’m already on his trail. He’s about five foot seven. I can’t tell his exact age, but his lanky body and boyish features imply he’s in his mid-teens.
He backpedals when he sees me bearing down on him, his eyes wide.
“Why the fuck are you following me?”
His gaze darts around before settling on me. “I--I wasn’t following you, Master.”
I freeze mid-step. “What did you just call me?”
He stops and stares, frowning. “Master?”
One, two, three steps and I’m in his face. He scrambles back until his back hits a tree, and I’m right in front of him, crowding him.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Please, don’t hurt me. I was only doing what I was told to do, Ma--”
“Don’t call me that.” I fist the front of his white sweater in my hand. “How do you know that name, and what the hell are you doing here?”
“P-please let me go,” he whispers, tears running down his cheeks.
Bile rises up my throat. Jesus. He’s just a child. I shouldn’t threaten him like this, but I can’t afford to feel guilty. I need to know who sent him.
“Talk fast.”
He wipes his face with the back of his trembling hand. “Kravic sent me.”
My heart stops beating for just a second, then thumps hard and fast in my chest.
Shit!
“Kravic? Kravic put you up to this?”
He nods, his eyes filling with tears again.
I loosen my hold on his sweater, but not completely. Kravic is stupider and more dangerous than a rabid dog. The last time we met, it ended in a bloody fist fight. Yet, he still hasn’t given up.
Psycho fuck.
I narrow my eyes, studying the boy. He reminds me of myself at that age, minus the resentment I’d held onto like a weapon. Back then, I was walking dynamite, heading down a dangerous path--the same one this boy is on, I suspect.
I lean back, giving him space. “What’s your name?” His eyes ping-pong all over the place, as if looking for a way to escape. “Don’t. You won’t make it very far.”
He sniffs. “Tony,” he mumbles under his breath.
“I’ll ask you again, Tony. You seem to know who I am, so you know what I’m capable of.” I pause, hardening
my expression. “What are you doing here?”
“I wasn’t following you, Master,” he says in a stubborn voice, the tears gone.
I grit my teeth. “I am not your master, Tony.”
“Kravic says you still are.” His voice trembles. “Unless--”
“Unless, what?” I say, narrowing my eyes. His thin body shrinks further into the tree. “Why aren’t you in school? Why are you playing my shadow?”
“I--I wasn’t following you.”
I look around the cemetery, then turn to face him again, my eyebrow raised. “I’m the only one here.”
His slender fingers tug at the sleeves of the white sweater.
“A new client approached Kravic and needed surveillance on . . . someone who owes him money. I--I’m not supposed to say.”
I take a step forward. “Talk. I want details. Better yet,” I snatch his outstretched hand so fast, he doesn’t have time to protest. “Show me.”
“Please don’t hurt me,” he squeals as I drag him with me.
“I won’t hurt you.” I don’t have a bone to pick with him, but Kravic does.
His feet move fast, weaving through the paths. I frown as we get closer to the place I’d been only minutes ago.
“Here?” He says it like a question, pointing at Olivia and David’s gravestone. “He owes our client money.”
“But he’s dead.”
“I was put on surveillance to watch the girl.”
My pulse quickens. “The girl?”
“Five foot four. Kravic said her name is Sophie.”
What? “Who is Kravic’s client?”
“Don’t know. Some loan shark mega-millionaire. Kravic says we should watch places she visits just in case.”
My hands curl into fists, remembering the night at the opera when Jace and Dani had come dashing down the hallway, looking worried. Jace had been about to say something, before she stopped herself. This. This is why they were worried.
“I want to give Kravic a message. Can you do that?”
Tony nods quickly.
“Tell your new boss--”
“Master, we don’t have a boss, that’s the problem. You nee--”
“Don’t call me that.” The familiar rage I’d managed to tame over the years rips through me and settles in my fists. “Tell Kravic, if he touches even a strand of Sophie, or Lilli’s hair, he’ll wish I was never born to walk this earth. I WILL find him.”
I stalk off toward the cemetery’s exit, pulling my phone from my pants pocket. I have to talk to Sophie before I leave for Milan. Jesus, what kind of deals had her father made? Loan sharks? Dangerous as hell if they didn’t get their due. I have enough experience to know that.
I swing the Jeep’s door open, sliding into the leather seat. If they’ve been tracking her, she needs to be protected. And Lilli. There are only two people who can do that without asking questions.
Shit.
I punch the steering wheel, then scroll down my list of contacts. I key in the number I’d coerced out of Jace two days after the opera the same moment the phone vibrates in my hand.
“What?”
“Boss?”
I exhale, squeezing my eyes shut. “Ben. You know my name, don’t you?”
“Er . . . yes, Mr. Rafael.” Ben clears his throat. “I got the Tuxedo you ordered. Can I bring it to the house?”
I rub my neck. “You can drop it off tomorrow morning,” I say, twisting the ignition key with my free hand, and backing away from the curb. “Anything else?”
“You need it for tonight’s opening.”
“Tonight’s opening?”
A small pause, then, “For Elisabeth, at the Raimund Theater, with San Francisco’s retiring Music Director.”
Shit.
Clenching my hand around the wheel, I dart a look in the rearview mirror before overtaking a white truck.
“Drop the tux at home and wait for me. I have a job for you.” Ben is one of the people I’d trust with anyone’s life. He’s been working for me for over five years now, whenever I fly to Vienna. He’s never been married, and is a retired Retriever from Dietrich and Grayson, one of the most sophisticated, independent firms of criminal hunters in the world.
I dial Sophie’s number and she answers on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Sophie.”
“Rafael?” she says, out of breath. Images of what might be causing her to breathe like that fill my head. I grip the phone tighter and scowl.
“Where are you?” Shit. I sound like a damn jealous ape.
“What?”
“Just answer me.”
She huffs a breath into the phone. “Olivia’s Ci--first district. Is something wrong? Do you need me to come back to the office?”
“No. No, everything’s fine. Save this number in case you need to contact me. See you soon.” There’s silence on the other side of the phone. “Sophie?”
“Did you call just to give me your number?” She sounds exasperated.
I wanted to hear your voice. I called because I’m worried about you.
“Yes.”
“That’s . . . very considerate of you, Rafael.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Say my name again.”
“What?”
“Just say it.” I’m begging, but I don’t care right now. It sounds so damn good rolling off her tongue.
“Rafael,” she says softly.
I exhale, feeling the tightness coiling in my stomach ease. After she hangs up, I flip through my contacts and press a number I haven’t used in years. It rings twice.
“Gustav.” A gruff voice speaks into the phone.
“Meet me at my house. We need to talk.”
“I don’t do that anymore, Arie.”
“The hell you don’t. I own your ass, Gustav. You owe me, and I’ve called to collect.”
He sighs. “You’re the devil himself.”
“You’re lucky I’m not an angel,” I say coldly. “Be there, Gustav.” I end the call, press my foot on the gas and join the late afternoon traffic.
Sophie
THURSDAY MORNING, I borrow Jace’s Saab to transport the supplies I need to repair the chipped tiles in the restaurant’s kitchen. Whenever I turn around, I see Kravic’s people. He seems to have redoubled his efforts.
When I get home from work, I take a shower, and then laze around, weighing whether or not I should call Rafael. After all, the ball is in my court now.
I pull my phone from my pants pocket and type, “Want to do something together today?”
I tuck it back into my pocket, and go about preparing dinner so that, when Lilli comes home, she won’t have to wait long.
I glance at the clock by the refrigerator, it’s almost six. Hmm, Lilli was supposed to be home from school at five.
Pulling my phone from my pocket again, I dial her number, but she doesn’t answer. I redial, but my call is diverted to voicemail. I take deep breaths, hoping to stop the panic building inside me.
I call Dani and Jace, but they haven’t heard from her. Sweat beads my forehead, and I start to pace while calling her friends. One says she left school at four, saying that she wanted to come straight home.
How can a fifteen-year-old girl disappear from the face of the earth?
I inhale deeply to calm my nerves. Instead, a sob bursts from my lips.
I can’t cry; I can’t fucking cry. Not until I find her. Not until she’s safe in my arms. I grab my phone and dial Jace and Dani’s number, pacing the living room again.
“Any news?” I ask.
“No,” Dani says. “Jace is out driving around to see if she can track her down. Lilli is a clever girl. I don’t think she’d willingly put herself--and you--in danger. She probably just got caught up taking pictures.”
I nod, then realize she can’t see me. “Yes, you’re right.” My heart thumps painfully in my chest. She’s called me every time she was running late, or had to visit a friend. Why wouldn’t she call today? Maybe somethi
ng happened to her--
Freakin’ hell! I can’t allow myself to think like that.
“Want to talk while we wait?” Dani says, cutting through the panic building in my chest.
“I’m not sure--do you think Kravic took her? If anything happens to her . . . I’m not sure I can survive that, Dani. First Mom, then--”
“Your mom’s death was an accident.”
I shut my eyes tight. “I have to go. Please call if she shows up.” I end the call as soon as she says she will, grab a pen and paper, and scribble a note for Lilli to wait for me. I stick it on the fridge with a Hello Kitty magnet. Snatching my keys, I head out the door and drive to Olivia’s Circle. I can’t stay in the house any longer.
I scroll through my contacts, then press the call button. It rings once.
“Sophie, I was just about to call y--”
“My sister . . . she’s gone.” I should sound strong. But I feel like someone sucker-punched me in the stomach. I need to hold it together.
A pause, followed by feet shuffling, and the sound of a door closing.
“What do you mean ‘she’s gone’?” His voice is calm, way too calm.
I tell him what happened, gripping the phone harder.
“Where are you?” he asks.
“First district, Olivia’s Circle.”
“Stay put.” The line goes dead.
When Rafael arrives, he pulls me close and kisses my forehead. I sink into his arms.
“I need to go to the police.”
“She won’t be considered missing until after twenty-four hours,” he says. “Have you called Simone?”
I shake my head. Could she have gone there? Earlier this week, I’d brought Lilli to Konrad Theatre so she could sit in while I rehearsed.
Moments later, he says, “Simone hasn’t seen her, either.” I didn’t even hear him talk to her.
He tucks his finger under my chin, his dark eyes searching mine. “There are things you don’t know about me, Sophie. But know this. I won’t let anything happen to you, or your sister.”
“I pushed her to do this.” Or maybe Kravic took her. That’s what I want to say. But I’m not about to involve anyone else in this mess.
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