by S. M. Soto
This morning there was a debriefing so most of the guys snagged their own to-go breakfasts from the kitchen. Much to my chagrin, I wasn’t able to pull my brother aside and talk to him about what happened in his room last night like I wanted to. Mera, being the motherly woman that she is was not happy that the guys haven’t had a decent meal. She roped me into helping and now, we’ve prepped a feast large enough to feed a whole country. I’m just glad this strawberry shampoo will be able to wash the smell out of my hair.
Once showered and dressed in comfortable clothes, I stride out of the bathroom coming to abrupt halt when I spot Creed leaning against my bedroom door. The air around us changes as he stares at me. The intensity of his gaze is frightening, so much so it sends my heart into a galloping race within the confines of my chest. Of their own accord, my eyes trail down his thick body, along the ink peeking beneath his clothes, and I suppress a full body shiver. Fear runs rampant through my body, but desire…it’s close behind as I stare at him and all his brooding glory. Phantom sensations of his hands on me last night has a shiver running through my body.
Those steel, crystalline eyes pin me in place, the gray metal shards float around endlessly in their depths. I swallow thickly and force my throat to work and push the words out.
“Creed. What are y-you doing here?”
Pushing off the wall, he takes a step toward me. Instead of backing away like I should, I stay rooted in place, unable to find the will to back away from him.
“What are you doing? That’s the real question.”
My brows dip into a frown.
“What?”
Creed stalks toward me, his hands gripping my upper arms firmly and cornering me against the wall of my bedroom. A gasp flies past my lips and my breath catches in my throat. Slamming his hands against the wall behind me, Creed blocks me in, glowering down at me. With him so close, the only thing I can focus on is the heat of his body and the fresh woodsy scent that emanates off of him. It wraps around me like a thick blanket, wreaking havoc on the sane part of my brain.
“What the hell are you thinking?” Creed growls. My heart lodges in my throat, my pulse pounding so violently it echoes in my ears. I freeze at the furious expression on his face. I’ve never seen Creed lose his cool. Not like this.
“I don’t know—”
“What didn’t you understand about there being a traitor in this group? Cozying up to Finlay and sharing a bed with him might very well get you killed.”
His words send a cold trickle of sweat down my spine.
How could I possibly forget that?
Those steel eyes hold me captive, only this time, they aren’t holding me against my will because I truly don’t want to look away. I see the accusations written all over his face, and suddenly, I find myself glaring back at him in anger. My eyes narrow up at him, and I grind my teeth together in frustration.
How dare he.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Just because Finlay and I are friends, that suddenly means we’re sharing a bed? He hasn’t even been back one full day, Creed. Get over yourself!” I shove at his chest, only making him angrier. Creed’s nostrils flare as he tries to rein in his temper.
“And what about Jose?” He asks in a tone that sends a shiver of dread down my spine.
“H-how did y-you…how did you know about—” I stutter but I’m cut off by his growl.
“I know about everything Sophia. What don’t you understand about that?”
My hands curl into fists along my sides at his tone of voice. He’s talking to me like a child that has been lectured numerous times.
“Why don’t you just say what your real problem is, Creed. You and I both know Finlay is harmless. And we also know I wasn’t in his bed last night, don’t we?” I raise my brows in challenge.
“Do we?” he grinds out coldly, but I see the surprise on his face at my hint about last night. I guess he really must’ve thought I was asleep.
Score one for Sophia.
“Use your head, Sophia,” he growls. “You can’t trust anyone. Not Finlay, not Jose, not even me.”
I steel my jaw and curl my lip in anger.
“So, what then? He’s enemy number one? Jose is his accomplice? What fucking evidence do you have?”
“He’s clean. There’s not a damn thing on him, and that’s the problem. He’s too clean. As for Jose, he has a shady background—just like the rest of us. He was part of the Mexican cartel all his life. Receiving wire transfers from the government as incentive to kill people doesn’t change who we are or where we come from.”
I shove away from his chest that feels like a brick wall. I get the distinct feeling we’re not just talking about Jose and Finlay anymore, for some reason it feels like we’re talking about Creed and his past now. I never considered it before—and I don’t want to start now—but what if he’s the traitor? I furiously shake my head trying to rid myself of another possible suspect.
“Wow, Creed,” I scoff. “What a fucking case you are building. Have you ever considered maybe you’re just paranoid?”
His left eye twitches, and I can tell he’s trying to reign in his temper for my sake. “If you want to stay alive, I suggest you start being smarter about who you cozy up to. I couldn’t really fucking care less.”
He backs away from me, the sweltering heat of his body no longer wrapped around mine. Instead, my body trembles from the gust of cold air that now surrounds me.
“You do care.”
My words stop him in his tracks. With his back to me, I watch as his body stiffens. I should’ve just let him walk away, let his retreating form disappear but I couldn’t. Not without getting the last word in.
“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.” I counter, with steel in my voice. The look Creed shoots me over his shoulder is so cold, so frigid, my body trembles and I take a step back.
Creed leaves my bedroom just as quietly as he slipped in. He’s lethal, in every sense of the word. I don’t know how he manages to be so silent with his size. It’s frightening.
The click of the door shutting echoes around my bedroom, prompting my face to fall. A wave of sadness engulfs me. It’s like I get two steps forward with Creed but somehow manage to fall five feet backward flat on my ass.
I don’t even know why I’m so sad. It’s not like I expected Creed to care or have a heart. In this line of work, caring about anyone can get you killed, I understand that, but Creed…there’s more there. I can feel it in my bones. He has a heart somewhere in there, it may be broken or tainted black by his past, but it’s still there regardless. I felt it last night when he carried me to bed, and so many times before. I just need to dig up the organ and find it.
After a rowdy dinner, I spend time with Garrett. Since he’s been back, I’ve wanted to talk to him about the mission he just left on and what happened with Jose. I know it’s a long shot that he’ll talk to me about any of it, but some twisted part of me needs to know what goes on while he’s away. While they’re all away.
When everyone returned, I couldn’t help but notice the dark shadows of fatigue under their eyes. I’m almost certain it has nothing to do with them being tired and more about them being conflicted about what they’ve done or had to do while they were away.
“Gar?”
My brother turns to me with raised brows, pausing from flipping through files on his desk in his bedroom.
“What happened on the assignment? The one you all just came back from?”
Garrett’s face shutters, and like a wall sliding over his eyes, every part of him that I know and love, closes off from me. In his place is an impenetrable wall in the form of a man.
“You know I can’t talk to you about that,” he says in a gruff voice.
“It was bad, wasn’t it?”
Garrett places both hands on the desk, his body sagging forward in defeat. His head drops forward between his shoulders.
“It was horrible,” he says in a quiet, tortured voice.
“Why do you do this then, Gar? Can’t you do something that makes you happy? Something that doesn’t involve…killing?”
My brother scoffs darkly. “I got into this because I wanted to help people, Soph. Criminals don’t play by the rules, and sometimes, in order to beat them, you have to become them.”
My heart splinters and tears burn my eyes. I open my mouth to say something. Anything to take his pain away, but I don’t. How can I?
I hate that my brother will go the rest of his life, growing more and more jaded because of the missions he’s sent on. The things he has to see and do will always have a negative impact on him, just like the rest of the guys.
“I’m not talking about this with you. I won’t.”
Garrett pulls himself upright, squaring his shoulders. The tortured look on his face is replaced by familiar indifference. I nod my head because I’m not sure I want to talk about this anymore either. I don’t even bother bringing up Jose, or what I saw the other night, not after his reaction to this. I mean, if Creed knows, he’s bound to find out, right?
The sound of my feet slap against each step of the stairs, echoing in the silence at this hour. I tug my cardigan around my shoulders, trying to ignore the eerie vibe these quiet, dim halls give off. The floors that belong to us were such a stark contrast to the décor on the first floor. Whereas everything up here is dark woods and furnishings, everything on the first floor is bright and white, with muted gray interspersed. It was like two separate worlds colliding in one building.
When I reach the bottom of the staircase, I’m about to turn left, toward the kitchen for some tea but stop short at the sound of hushed voices. My brows pull down as I strain to listen. I dart my gaze around me warily and lick my suddenly dry lips.
Sucking in a deep, nervous breath, I tip toe toward the kitchen, trying to listen to the secretive conversation taking place. The closer I get, the clearer the voices become. My face scrunches into a frown when I recognize the deep, gruff tone of Ricky. I step closer, straining to hear who the other person is when my foot hits an unusually squeaky floorboard. The noise pierces the air. The voices in the kitchen suddenly come to a halt.
I freeze.
My stomach bottoms out and I stop breathing. I clench my eyes shut, too afraid to move. At the sound of chairs scraping against the floor, my heart lurches in my throat and my stomach churns with fear. Of their own accord, my feet backtrack, trying to get me out of here but not fast enough.
Ricky and Jose’s silhouettes hover in front of the entrance of the kitchen, illuminated by the light. I dart my gaze between the two of them, a bad feeling brewing in my gut.
“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I stammer.
A cold smirk pulls at the corner of Jose’s mouth as he takes a step forward. “You should really be more careful, Mariposa.” The thinly veiled threat doesn’t go unnoticed. It has a chill rippling down my spine.
Ricky places a steady hand on the center of Jose’s chest, holding him in place. They both eye me for what feels like hours before Ricky claps Jose on the shoulder, urging him to follow.
“Have a good night, Sophia,” he says, tone ominous. They both walk past me without another word, slipping into the shadows of the hall.
I inhale a shaky breath, forcing my legs to carry me into the kitchen. My mind whirls with what just happened as I try to make a cup of tea. The task is impossible in my state. My hands tremble violently, scalding water sloshing over the rim. Ignoring the burn of the hot liquid on my fingers, I set the cup on the counter and rest my hands on the edges. Clenching my eyes shut, I try to shake off the fear that clings to my skin, but I can’t seem to do it.
Catching Jose and Ricky having a secret meeting only makes me more paranoid, especially where Jose is concerned. I don’t want to believe he’s the mole, hell, I don’t even want to believe Ricky is apart of his plan, but I can’t ignore what I saw tonight. Ricky and Jose are working together…on what? I have no idea. But I intend to find out.
As I lay in bed that night, thoughts of Creed and Garrett fill the quiet space of my bedroom. Garrett’s tortured face flickers behind my closed lids as Creed’s captivating presence looms around me. His words from earlier wash over me repeatedly. The thought of a possible traitor sleeping in the same building as me is enough to send me into cardiac arrest. Clenching the comforter tighter around me, I swallow thickly, thinking about the possible rat in the group of men I’m supposed to trust. Each one of them is a possible suspect. Jose and Ricky at the top of that list.
I can’t imagine what they’re planning, or why they’re selling intel, but I know it can’t be good. My insides coil as I realize there’s only two men I fully trust. My brother and quite possibly Creed.
I WAKE EARLY THE NEXT morning, needing fresh air to help clear my head. There’s so much rolling around my brain, I’m starting to give myself a headache. The stress and anxiety are taking its toll. I should feel safe here, but sadly, I don’t. Especially now that one or more of the men is planning something behind everyone’s back.
Throwing a quick, nervous glance behind my shoulder, I slide open the back door that leads to the grounds of the building. The smell of fresh cut grass and trees linger in the air, filling my lungs with the clean, fresh scent of the outdoors. Clouds that look like misshaped cotton candy are scattered across the pale blue sky. The bright orange sun rays shine through the clouds, setting my face aglow, warming my body from head to toe. When I look at the grass covering the hill a few yards away, it’s like looking at powdered gold as it seeps through the green blades along the rocky hill.
My eyes flick to the tree line ahead, and the men hidden within the shadows. I know they’re here to protect us, and on some level, that gives me a sense of security, but on the other, it doesn’t.
What if they’re working with the traitor, too?
With an irritable growl, I resist the urge to smack myself upside the head and tell myself not to go there.
Running my hands over the petals of the colorful flower beds, I try to lose myself in the soft touch of nature. My mom always loved plants and flowers. That was one of the many things I remember about her. She had her own small nursery in our backyard that was filled with an assortment of colorful flowers. Just being out here, amongst the colorful plants she no doubt would’ve loved, causes tears to spring to my eyes.
Resting on the rock outside, I tilt my face up, soaking up the warm sun rays. I don’t know how long I’ve been out here, but by the way my skin is burning from the warm sun, I’d say it’s been a long time. I’m half surprised my brother hasn’t come stomping out of the door, looking for me with a search party in tow. It is against his stupid rules after all.
With everything going on right now, I know I should listen, but I just want one moment of silence to myself where I can actually think, feel, and breathe freely. Out here, in the open, that’s the only place that made sense—the only place I’d ever be able to do it. The fresh air has calmed some of the anxiety running rampant through me. But not all. Worry still hangs heavy over my head. Worry about the past and what lies ahead in the future.
I feel him before I see him walking toward me. A small, yet tentative smile spreads across my face. A peace offering of sorts. With the way we left things the other day, I wasn’t expecting to see or hear from Creed so soon, but here he is anyway.
“You found me.”
“I always know where you are, Sophia.”
His voice is so deep, and smooth—like butter. Just hearing it has warmth lapping at my core. I try to shake off the effect this man has on my body and stay focused. I nervously tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, my gaze following him as he settles on the large rock beside me.
“I’m guessing Garrett sent you out here after me?”
His mouth twitches into a semblance of a smile that makes my heart skip a beat.
“Not exactly. He wanted to come out here and drag you back inside himself.”
I scoff in th
e most unladylike way.
“Of course. Where is he then?”
“I told him I’d handle it instead.”
My eyes narrow on Creed, and my head tilts in a questioning manner.
“Why?”
Creed shifts his gaze away from my questioning stare. Focusing on his favorite dark spot between the thick line of trees.
“I don’t know.”
His voice is raspy, lined with the faintest bit of irritation. His brows are creased, and he looks so deep in thought as he stares out at the trees.
My eyes linger on his face longer than they should. I know he can sense my stare, but he doesn’t turn back to me or say anything more. He lets me ogle him in complete silence.
Mirroring his stance on the rock, I force my gaze away from him to the thick line of trees ahead, much like he’s doing. Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I bite down as I mull over his odd behavior. Creed is difficult to read—it’s nearly impossible. I never know what to expect from him, and this? This wasn’t expected.
Silence wraps around us both, the only sounds are the ones of mother nature. Birds chirp in the distance, trees rustle against each other forcefully from the wind, and the sound of the splashing water from the fountain filters through the grounds. I’ve never been one to think too much about death or life after death, until recently. When my parents died, I believed—believe—that after death, all good souls went to heaven. It made me feel better knowing my parents were in a better place. But after nine months of being tortured at the hands of those men… I can’t help but wonder what happens to the other half. The bad half. Do they get sent to hell when they die?