Page 105 of Saving Sophia

“What?” The word popped out of my mouth.

“The timing of that police raid was a bitch of a coincidence,” he continued with a smirk. “My plan was to clean things up here, then take poor old Nikki and the gun back to his house for the cops to find later. Then come find you.” He leered at me, and I shivered. “I almost walked right out into them prepping for the raid. But then, you pop out the back and distract the cops.” He laughed his cat-torturer laugh, enjoying my confusion. “Like we planned it together. And then you didn’t even have the guts to tell them.”

The irony of it turned my stomach. I had blundered out the back door before the cops did their raid. The perfect distraction for the moon-faced man to sneak the body out and plant it and the evidence someplace else, after giving him time to clean up. No wonder they hadn’t found anything that night. Horror wrapped around me like a layer of suffocating gray slime oozing down my throat.

“I had plenty of time to put the body and the gun where they needed to be for Valerie to become the only suspect.” The moon-faced man took a slug of champagne and tipped the glass to me again.

“Another good reason for you to put all this behind you and never mention it again, isn’t it, little maid?” Mr. Roscoe licked his lips, still clutching me.

Another nail hammered into the suffocating coffin closing in all around us.

Callie and I met eyes across the room. She was barely dancing, eyes glued on me, her face pale. Her hand reached up to tug at a strand of her hair, wrapping it around her index finger and brushing the edge against her cheek. We were helpless. Trapped.

“You’re sure Valerie doesn’t know about your change in loyalty?” Mr. Roscoe asked, his grip on me relaxing. To me he said, “go serve my guests, little maid.”

The moon-faced man scoffed. “She’s so focused on the accusations, she’s not paying attention to anything else. She trusts me completely.”

I scurried away, thankful to be away from them. I hated all of it. Their schemes and double-crossing and whatever else they were doing. I didn’t want any part of it. I didn’t want to be involved. I wished I’d never taken this stupid job.

You wouldn’t have Daddy if you hadn’t.

The little voice in my head made a point. But I’d lost him too. Maybe he still loved me, but I couldn’t risk ever seeing him again.

The weak part of me pleaded with the universe to let me wake up from this nightmare curled up in the safety of his arms. But that wasn’t going to happen, and begging wouldn’t make it so.

The song booming out from the speakers changed and Callie waved me over. “You okay?” she asked, stepping down from the small stage.

I shrugged, my shoulders heavy with misery. “Yeah. I mean, not really. But they were just toasting how I helped distract the cops, and that the Valerie lady?—”

“Nik Vasili’s wife?”

“Yeah.” I tossed a nervous glance but none of them were watching us. “I guess she doesn’t know that the moon-faced man betrayed her.”

Callie snickered and looked over toward the men. “I get it now. He does look like the man in the moon.”

I smiled at her, but then it faded off my face. “I’m so sorry you are in this. I don’t think we’re gonna?—”

“Don’t.” She shook her head, a finger twirling a strand of blond hair. “We are getting out of here somehow. We’re not gonna let these assholes win. We just have to be ready when the opportunity hits.”

I bit my lip, wishing I could believe her.

Brad stalked over, and we stepped apart. Callie kept her face blank like I’d seen her do with a thousand guys in the club. He leered at her barely-covered breasts. “Did I tell you to stop dancing?”

Callie took a deep, cleavage-swelling breath. “No, but I was bored with you not watching.”

His leer turned into a full smirk. “Oh, I’ll watch, Babe.”

She crawled back up onto the stage and started dancing again. Brad completely missed it when her eyes flicked to mine, eyebrow raised. I could almost read her thoughts on that eyebrow – watch for the opportunity.

But if it came, would I be able to take it?

I was still wondering when John the bouncer came into the room and whispered something in Mr. Roscoe’s ear. Whatever he said, it brought a frown to Mr. Roscoe’s face. His black eyes turned directly onto me, filling my tummy with ice.

“Clear the room and show him up,” he snapped. “Check him for weapons too,” he added. John nodded and began ushering the regulars out of the VIP room.

Mr. Roscoe stormed toward me. “Your boyfriend doesn’t know how to take no for an answer,” he growled, grabbing my hand and pressing it against his side so I could feel the lump beneath his perfect Armani suit. A gun-shaped lump. He tipped his chin toward a corner, where the moon-faced man faded into the shadows, barely more noticeable than the empty-eyed statues. He saw me and smiled one of his hideous smiles, his chin jutting out even further in the awful blue light before he dragged one finger across his neck in a slicing motion.

My mouth went paper dry, and my skin itched like a million ants crawling on me. My heart ripped in two, one half leaping up, hoping Daddy had come for me, the other half horrified at what would happen if he did.

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