by Andrea Joy
“Babe, what are you doing?” I ask when she throws the covers back and gets out of bed..
I lie back, one hand resting behind my head, the other lazily stroking my cock while I watch her bend over. My hand halts when she straightens, pulling her shorts up with her then tugs on a tank top.
“Sof? What the hell?”
“I-I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t,” she says, not meeting my gaze then rushes out the door.
The hell.
I’m just pulling on a button-up shirt when I hear the back-door slam shut.
“Sofia!” I call, stepping through the back door, eyes scanning the stretch of beach in search of her. My gaze lands on a lone figure by the water and I take off towards her.
“What the fuck was that, little girl?”
“Stop. Please, just stop.”
“Why? Why do you hate those words so much?”
“Because! Because... it was his favorite nickname for me when he would repeatedly sneak into my room and rape me.” Her voice breaks on a shuddering breath. “Keep quiet, little girl. Be a good little girl,” she mocks.
“He?” I fear the answer before it’s leaves her lips.
“Dante.”
“I thought… You said you were still a virgin that night you crawled into my bed.”
Her chin wobbles and I have to call on some extra strength from somewhere to stop me from reaching for her.
“To me, that was the night I truly lost my virginity. I chose to lose it that night. Each time before that was not a choice. At least not by me.”
A punch to the gut would’ve been easier to take than hearing those words fall from her lips and realizing what an asshole I’ve been to her.
“Sof, I’m...” my voice trails off.
“You’re what? Sorry?” She turns her back on me, gaze fixed to where the waves meet the horizon. “You know, Mason, when someone asks you to stop doing something sometimes there’s a bigger reason than they simply don’t like it.”
When she turns back to me, tears are streaming down her beautiful face. A face now contorted in so much pain. Pain I caused. Unknowingly, yes. But how many times had she asked me to stop with the nickname? Too many to fucking count, but I liked the rise I got out of her. I liked watching her skin turn red. Knowing I caused it, that no matter what I was still able to get a reaction out of her. All the while never aware that I was accidentally triggering her nightmares with every utterance of those two words.
“I didn’t know.”
She snorts. “No, you wouldn’t have, would you? But I still asked you to stop. Begged. Pleaded with you to drop it. But Mason James does whatever the fuck Mason James wants to do and to hell with everyone else, right? I shouldn’t have needed a reason, Mason. It should’ve been dropped when I told you to stop.”
“I really am sorry.”
Sorry? Sorry. I want to laugh at the word. Not because I didn’t mean it. I did. I do. But because sorry seems so insignificant to what she went through. To what I then put her through causing her to relive all those horrible memories over and over again.
We’re quiet for a long time. Each of us lost in our own thoughts, me staring down at my toes digging into the sand, her staring back out at the water. I want to pull her into my arms and whisper in her ear that it’ll be okay now. That he can’t harm her anymore. That she... what? Has me? That’s almost more laughable than thinking sorry was enough. But fuck it, I’ve spent too long fighting this thing between us and trying to keep my distance. I take a step closer to her, my arms just sliding around her when she stiffens, slaps my arms away and begins backing away from me.
“You’re unbelievable,” she accuses, her hands still up to ward me off.
I stand watching her like a deer in headlights, blinking back my confusion.
She laughs, but it’s strained. Pained. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I don’t want you touching me? That maybe a hug from you wouldn’t be the soothing vice you hoped?” She pauses, studying me. “Of course, you didn’t. Because you only have your best interests at heart, Mason. You don’t give a fuck about anyone else.”
“It was just a hug,” I say, trying to defend myself. Forty fucking years old and I was being reduced to feeling like a teenager all over again by someone who sees me too clearly.
“Just a hug,” she repeats, a subtle quiver to her chin. “When has it ever just been a hug with us, Mase? I need you to listen. To really hear me. I need you to just be there for me.”
“I don’t know what you want from me Sofia. Tell me what you want.” I start to reach for her but stop. I ball my hands into fists and force myself to take a step back. “Tell me how to fix this because I can’t read your mind.” I pause, waiting for her answer, but her attention isn’t even on me. It’s on the water. I follow her gaze to the rolling waves and blow out a breath. “I’m sorry for being an asshole and not dropping the nickname, I am. But I’m not sorry for trying to comfort you in the only way I know how. I’m a man, Sofia. We’re physical creatures. So, if that’s not what you need right now then tell me what it is you do need because I’m wracking my brain and coming up blank.”
I don’t try to stop her again when she takes off for the house. Spinning around to face the ocean, I tip my head back, fingers gripping my hair.
“Fuck,” I roar.
If what Sofia had just told me is true - and I have no reason to believe that it isn’t - then I’m glad the fucker is dead, because I would’ve carved him up myself for taking advantage of her. In truth, what Braxton did to him was more merciful than he deserved. He deserved to be awake while each of his limbs were severed, he deserved to be forced to stay awake while his body was slowly bled dry... until the very last drop was drained out of his body.
When I’ve calmed down enough, I make my way back up the beach to the house and find Sofia nursing a glass of her favorite white wine, the bottle standing half empty next to the glass.
Stepping up behind her, I move her hair off her shoulder and place a kiss behind her ear, another one in the curve of her neck.
“I really am sorry,” I murmur against her soft skin.
She visibly relaxes against me, her head coming to rest on my shoulder.
Running my hands up and down her arms, I press a kiss against her temple. “C’mon, I’ll run you a bath.”
“Mason,” she sighs, “I really don’t thin- “
“Just for you. Alone. I promise.” I cut her off, dropping my hands and take a step back, making for the stairs, but stop with my hand resting on the railing. “I’m not going to touch you like that again, Sofia. You’ll have to make the next move.”
When she doesn’t answer, I continue trudging up the stairs to the master bedroom and into the ensuite, turning on the taps to start the water and then go about pouring in the scented bubble bath Toni and Kai keep here.
I look up at the sound of someone stepping into the bathroom. Turning off the water, I straighten to my full height, remove a fresh towel from the cabinet and place it on the counter within easy reach of the tub. Clearing my throat, I look up, shocked to see her watching me intently, her gaze drifting to the rolled-up sleeves of my dress shirt.
“I’ll leave you to it,” I say, stepping around her. “Good night, Sofia.” I don’t chance a look back before closing and shutting the bedroom door behind me.
“Sofia?” I’m still half asleep when I feel the corner of the duvet lift and then the mattress dips when she crawls in, stopping before she reaches the middle and lays on her side facing me. You could fit the Grand fucking Canyon between us with how much room there is.
“I’m sorry,” She finally huffs after what feels like forever. “I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. I should’ve handled it better.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head and tighten my arm around her. “I’m sorry too.”
“I know.”
Thank fuck. I didn’t know how much longer I was going to hold out for.
�
�Closer.”
She scoots closer an inch or two. Still not enough to satisfy me. I need to feel her warmth, need to know she’s okay after what happened today, and this distance is getting on my last nerve.
“I swear to Christ, Sof, if you don’t move your body, I’m going to drag you closer. Come here.”
I see the war blazing behind her bright eyes. She wants the closeness almost as much as I do, but she’s afraid I’ll reject her again. Truth be told, if she climbed up on my dick right now, I wouldn’t say no. Finally, I see her guard come down a little and she relents. Moving until she’s cuddled into my side, her small hand resting on my bare chest.
“How are you doing?”
She shrugs and it’s quiet for so long I assume she’s not going to answer my question. “You know, living with Dante, it was a constant fight for my life. If I let my guard down for even a second or allowed myself to relax… to enjoy life he would do something that had me fearing for my life. I remember one day our parents had asked him to oil the brakes on my bike. I went outside because I wanted to know if he was done since my friends wanted to go ride around the block. Dante said they were as good as knew… I believed him. Until I got to the end of our street where it slants down into a hill. There was a new construction site at the bottom where they were building more houses. I was going too fast and had to hit my brakes, but nothing happened.” She takes a breath and I pull her a little closer, already guessing at what happened next. “I was crying and must have been screaming really loud because one of the neighbours came running and was able to grab a hold of the bike and slow me down. As soon as it stopped, I couldn’t get off it fast enough. Haven’t been back on a bike since.”
“You think Dante tampered with the brake lines?”
“I don’t know for sure. All I know is that morning when dad and I went for a bike ride, there was a small squeak to it. Dad asked Dante to fix it and then when I went out again that same day, the brakes weren’t working. That’s just one incident of many. So, fighting for my life is nothing new. Growing up as a De Luca, I’ve seen things. Heard things. But never… not once have I been shot at.” She glances up at me, her chin resting on her hand resting on my chest. “I can handle a lot of shit, Mason, but hearing those two words…” She trails off, resting her head back down on my chest.
My eyes start to droop. Fingers gently caressing her arm I try to warn her away again. “You deserve a life away from all this. With someone who’s not going to hurt you. I’ll only ever hurt you, Sof.”
I don’t know if she ever reacted to my statement because sleep finally claims me.
Chapter Sixteen
MASON
“Hello?” I’m only half paying attention to the voice on the other end of the phone. My mind is on Sofia still upstairs. I fucked up our little weekend getaway. Every ounce of me wanted to go back into that bathroom and beg her forgiveness. To kneel at her feet and promise to do anything she wants, but I had to show her that I had heard what she said yesterday. She warmed slightly the next morning, but there was still this divide between us that hung around through the rest of the weekend and the drive back to Toronto. Thankfully, we got back to the city late last night so it didn’t take much to convince her to spend the night. I needed to feel her close. Needed to know that I didn’t completely fuck up.
“…with a warrant.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Those three words have my attention snapping back to the conversation and sitting up straighter behind the desk in my home office.
“Detective Mickelson is on the way to De Luca’s house to issue a warrant for his arrest,” Captain Walsh says again.
Fuck.
“When was this?” I ask, looking aimlessly around the room. For what? I don’t know. I push away and up to my feet just as Walsh says that Mickelson and a couple backup officers just left the precinct less than five minutes ago.
“I called you as soon as they left.”
“Thanks, John. I appreciate it.”
I hang up after he mumbles something about letting Braxton know that he called to warn him. I shake my head at his blatant attempt at making sure Braxton doesn’t come for his blood after all this is over. I head out of my office and leave a quick note for Sofia on the kitchen counter before jumping into my car. I hit Braxton’s name on the Bluetooth speaker as soon as I pull out of my driveway.
“De Luca.”
“You need to get out now. Mickelson is on his way to your house with a warrant.”
“Fuck!” Braxton roars and I wince. There’s some rustling on the other side, I’m assuming he’s grabbing the go bag in his office. “How long?” His voice comes back on the line but then he’s muted as he yells something to someone in the background.
“Twenty minutes. Where are you? I’m in my car now.”
“We’re at Toni and Kai’s. Alessandro is calling the pilot now.”
“Good. Don’t go home, that’s the first place Mickelson will go. Go straight to the airport and I’ll meet you there. Do not go home,” I reiterate just in case him and Klara were wanting to go back for a bag. They shouldn’t need to though. This is what Braxton is always prepared for. They each should have go bags in the car.
“Fuck! Lily is with Stefan and Brielle.”
I hear Klara say something in the background about them needing to go get their daughter but there’s really no time if we want to prevent Braxton from going to prison.
“She can come stay with me,” I offer before my brain has a chance to catch up.
“Alessandro is going to pick her up and bring her back here to stay with them. Cooper won’t let her go anyway,” he says, sounding surprisingly calm now.
“How far out are you?” I ask, just as I take the exit to the private airstrip.
“Two minutes.”
I refuse to think about how fast Braxton must be hauling ass if they made it from Toni and Kai’s house to the airstrip in less than ten minutes. As soon as I pull passed the chain-link fence, Braxton’s Jag pulls in right behind me. Tires squealing on the asphalt. As soon as the car stops, both the driver and passenger side doors swing open. Braxton and Klara jump out and race toward where I’m standing at the bottom of the stairs of the private jet. I have no idea what Alessandro threatened the pilot with to get him here and ready to go in such a short time, and I don’t care right now. If anyone found out I’m doing this, I could lose my job, but my loyalty to Braxton outweighs my loyalty to my job at the firm.
Klara reaches out to place a hand on my arm on her way up the stairs. Braxton doesn’t follow behind her immediately. Once his wife disappears around the corner to take her seat, he turns to me. Before he can say anything, I hand him a ward of cash.
“You won’t be able to use your cards for a while. Once things die down here, I’ll call you on the prepaid then you two can come home.”
He takes the cash from my hand and slips it into the front pocket of his jeans. “Lily. Klara’s not going to want to stay anywhere long without our daughter.”
Both our heads snap to the right at the sound of sirens growing closer in the distance. I have no idea how they found his location so fast, but that’s the least of my worries right now. My top priority is getting Braxton on the plane and out of Canadian air space.
“We’ll figure everything out over here and get your daughter to you as soon as we can. Just lay low,” I say, slapping a hand on his arm and cocking my head to the side indicating that it’s time for him to go.
With a nod, Braxton heads up the stairs to the jet and the doors immediately close behind him. I race back over to my car when the pilot starts up the jet, realizing that Braxton’s car is no longer parked behind mine. One of the men must have followed behind them and taken the car back to his place.
I’ve turned out of the airstrip and am almost back to the highway when I see the jet ascending higher through my windshield.
“Where is he?” Mickelson seethes when I open my front door. Two uniformed police o
fficers stand behind him like his own personal bodyguards, but they look scared shitless. I wouldn’t blame them, either. Braxton and the Famiglia practically pay their salaries. I make a mental note of the names on their uniform to give to Braxton and Alessandro later.
“Who?” I ask, blocking the open door with my body.
“De Luca. Where is he?” He growls.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop from grinning.
“He’s not at home?”
Mickelson sneers, stepping up closer until we’re toe to toe, forcing me to straighten up from my leaning position against the door frame. “I have a warrant for his arrest, James. You of all people should know that if you’re hiding him you can be charged with being an accessory.”
“Is that a threat Mickelson?”
My fists clench, and if we were alone, I’d have no problem letting them fly into his jaw. Maybe break his nose in the process. Watch the blood run down his face. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he dodges the question, preferring to ask one of his own.
“Mind if we come in and take a look?”
“Do you have a warrant?” His nostrils flare and I take some sick joy in riling him up. “I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you, Mickelson.”
His lips part like he’s about to counter my argument when I hear my name being called from behind me.
“Mason, who is it?”
Sofia’s arms wrap around my waist from behind and I lift my arm slightly so that she can cuddle into my side. Her lip curls in disgust as soon as she takes in the detective at my front door, but Mickelson looks like he just won the fucking lottery.
“What do you want?” Sofia sneers.
The detective’s eyes track Sofia’s arms wrapped around my waist and my hand on her hip.
“I’m looking for your cousin. Any idea where he is?”
Sofia looks up at me, mischief dancing in her blue eyes, her lips twitching with a suppressed grin. She manages to school her features into feigned indifference before she turns back to Mickelson and the two officers. “If he’s not at home then I have no idea where he could be.”