Page 22 of Saving Sophia

I took a deep breath. “It’s … only an interview, right? With Aunt Carol?”

He looked up from the desk at me, head tilted, white T-shirt almost glowing against his chest in the bright morning sun. “No strings attached.”

A twinge of guilt tickled my tummy. I wasn’t being dishonest, I just wasn’t telling him everything, right? I could be in Washington by late afternoon. Mr. Roscoe wouldn’t know anything about Ethan, so he couldn’t follow me. This could work. “I have to call Callie … pack up my stuff …”

“Great.” He snapped his briefcase closed and ran those long fingers through his hair, his eyes crinkling up with his smile. “Flight leaves in three hours.”

7

SOPHIA

One ring.

What was I going to say?

Two rings.

I was a terrible liar. The truth wasn’t an option. The only way Callie stayed safe was if she knew nothing.

Three rings. Then the click of her answering.

“Soap! Where are you? Tell me you stayed with the detective’s brother.”

I blushed and looked toward Ethan’s room where he was making calls to that detective brother as we spoke. “Umm, I did, but?—”

“Holy shit, you did?” Callie let out a squeal of pure joy. “Look at you! Amber Jade scores at last. I knew you could do it. He’s scorching hot too. How was he?”

My cheeks burned as I realized I wanted to know the answer to that question. “It wasn’t like that … I slept on the couch.”

Callie groaned. “Well, you’ve got another chance. The cops are still tearing up our apartment. You can at least suck his dick before we go back.”

She was incorrigible. I laughed, letting the sound fill the space while I mentally formed the words I didn’t want to say.

“I’m not sure I’m coming back.” I closed my eyes, counting the beats of silence.

“Are you serious? You’re leaving me?” The hurt in Callie’s voice made my throat tighten. “Why? Is it the club? Brad’s been asking where you are. Mr. Roscoe wants to talk to you. If you’re nervous, I could go?—”

“No,” I barked out. The more Callie talked to them about me, the more danger she faced. I dug my fingernails into my palm, using the pain to focus, willing my voice to sound calm. “Don’t say anything … to anyone at the club about me. If anybody asks, tell them you haven’t heard from me since the break-in.”

Callie sighed. “This is bullshit. Something’s wrong. I can hear it in your voice.”

The lump in my throat grew to the size of an avocado. I wanted to tell her. She would wrap me in one of her perfume-infused bear hugs, crack a joke, and make everything okay. But telling her would make her a target too. I couldn’t let her get involved. I needed to protect her. “I can Venmo you the rent money. Some of it, anyway.”

“Fuck that. You think I give a shit about the rent money? You’re dumping me over the phone when you’re obviously in some kind of trouble.”

“I’m fine.” The lie burned on my tongue. “Seriously.”

Was I trying to convince her or myself?

Her fingernails tapped on the edge of her phone. “Fine. You’ve got two days. Then, I’m going to the detective and telling him there’s something else going on. I know you, Soap, and this isn’t you.”

“Don’t …” I looked toward Ethan’s bedroom and lowered my voice, “say anything to the detective.”

“Two days,” she repeated. “Then we’re figuring this out over margaritas. You’re not getting rid of me this easily.”

“You’re a good friend, Callie.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “You’re very lucky to have me.” Her voice lightened. “Are you staying with Extra-Sexy Ethan?”

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