Page 36 of Maid For The Mafia Informant

I remind Ben that if he does go anywhere, even to the end of the driveway, then I’m going with him.

The sound of my phone makes us both jump, even though it’s all the way up in the bedroom.

“Get it,” he says. “But come back here. Keep any open line to under a minute. I think that still works against a trace,” he says, urging me to go ahead and get my phone, even though it’s stopped ringing.

“They’ll call back. I know they will,” he says gravely, puffing out air from his cheeks as I jog up to get my phone.

Walking back, I can see it’s my dad who was calling.

It rings again, still making me jump even though I know who it is.

I press answer but don’t speak. After today, who knows what’s what anymore?

It is my dad though, and despite Ben wanting me to come closer to him to sit I remain standing.

“Honey? I just need to know you’re safe, that’s all,” he says. His voice calm, controlled. Relieved even.

Not the mood from him I was expecting at all, but I still can’t bring myself to speak a word.

A flash to memories from meeting Ben up to this moment race across my mind until I can only feel a single, hot tear running down my cheek.

The two worlds of Ben and my dad are so different. I really believed if I just ignored it, I could keep them separate.

Impossible, given the current situation, regardless of Ben and me. Our relationship.

Us.

Ben moves to get up, breaking my reverie but I hold my hand up in silent protest.

“I’m fine, Dad,” I hear myself say, sounding so casual, almost bored that even Ben looks alarmed.

My dad makes a sound, like a dry croak followed by a stifled gasp.

I know instantly that he’s been crying, that he’s more wound up than he’s letting on.

“I’m not calling to tell you what to do or to find out where you are,” he continues. “I just need you to tell me you’re safe.”

I feel a rush of anxiety, suddenly remembering what Ben said about staying on the phone for too long.

I think about how my dad’s talking right now. Slowly, like he’s dragging this out.

Any other day of the week he would have yelled a million things at me in two seconds, no matter how upset he was.

“Dad. I’m fine, I’m safe. You need to check that DA though… and that agent, Partridge. I think they’re both so far into the mafia business they don’t know which set of shoes to put on each morning,” I hear myself saying firmly before I hang up.

I switch the phone off too for good measure. Something Ben admits I probably should have done after De Falco called.

“You don’t trust your dad?” Ben asks, looking like he might have had too much coffee already, which makes me laugh.

“I do, I think,” I tell him. “But this whole day, your whole story is making me doubt everything,” I admit.

“Who can we trust?” he muses softly, glancing over at me, then at his lap.

I scoot over to him, purring as I sink into his warm and hard muscular body.

“Each other,” I whisper. “We can trust each other,” I tell him, and his look of relief and fatigue tells me that maybe it’s time for bed after all.

“I can’t,” Ben groans, clutching his temples as he reads my thoughts, feels my hips starting to make circles as I grind down onto his lap.

“I timed your call,” he admits. “Roughly, so I can’t be a hundred percent sure, but I’d say; like De Falco, if they wanted to trace that call’s location they probably could have,” he says with some conviction.

“What should we do then?” I ask, more wondering than asking. “Maybe it is best to reach out to the law first and the criminals second?” I suggest, knowing full well they could both be the same right now.

“I hate to say it, but I have to agree with you, Sophie. If only for your safety.”

“And what about your safety!” I cry, suddenly more emotional than ever, remembering how those bastards went to his rooms, determined to kill him.

Ben holds me close, like a wounded bird.

He rocks me slowly and neither of us says a word for a long time, not until I’ve calmed down.

“I could hold you all night, Sophie. Every night,” he tells me, stroking my hair again as I hear myself sniffle back tears.

Sniffle back all the pain at the thought of losing him, if anything ever happened to him.

My Ben.

“We’re pretty close to the border, y’know,” he jokes.

I know he means Mexico. We’re thousands of miles away, it would take days of driving, even nonstop.

I chuckle softly, shaking my head as he makes his brows dance for me, cheering me up.

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