Page 40 of Maid For The Mafia Informant

The banging of a door makes me jump and I spin with my gun raised, but it’s just a stairwell door, flung open by the wind.

And it’s my one chance to get inside.Chapter Twenty-OneSophieI can still feel Ben’s eyes as I walk out into the garden, and the breeze is definitely now a wind.

I almost think I can hear Ben following me down, but turning there’s no one there, just the wind.

I notice some of the watering gear has blown over and move into the greenhouse to set it straight.

Feeling a huge presence behind me, blocking out the wind and smile to myself.

“Maybe you wanna see how hot it gets in the greenhouse?” I purr, turning around before I realize it’s not Ben at all.

I try to scream, but nothing comes out.

The huge, ugly man in front of me is grinning a half toothless smile that tells me he likes my idea a lot.

Once he takes a step closer and I feel his hands on me, I find my voice.

I scream.

I scream my head off, hoping that Ben will hear me wherever he is.

The man is massive and I’m no match for his strength which annoys me more than anything.

The only thing at hand is a potted plant, which I snatch up and smash against his jaw, which only makes him smile harder.

He drags me outside, and I get one more decent lungful of air before I feel him spin me around, pressing something hot and fouls smelling over my mouth.

I can see the green house, the broken pot and then my phone lying next to it.

I try to scream out for Ben one more time, but I feel so tired and dizzy. The sensation takes over me before I finally succumb to nothing but darkness.I figure I must be dreaming. I can hear my dad’s voice and someone else.

A woman, it sounds like they’re arguing.

My head’s pounding and I feel like I’m gonna be sick, but when I try to move, I can’t.

A moment of terror sees my eyes shooting open as I become aware of the gradual movement of a van, or whatever it is I’m inside.

I’m upright in a seat, but my hands are behind my back, painfully stretched which makes me gasp for air.

Fortunately, I can breathe at least and the sound of voices stops until I hear one of them again.

“I’m sorry, Sophie. They made me call you. They made me do it so they could trace you. I didn’t know that at the time. I was really just wanting to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh, daddy!” I cry.

I don’t mean to sound like such a little girl, but seeing him is the next best thing to Ben right now and I burst into tears, wishing I could move my hands and arms to hug him.

“They grabbed me at the airport, once I flew back after Partridge told me what happened. I thought they were feds, they looked legit enough.” My dad groans, showing his years with bad eyesight and less sharpness than he had twenty years ago.

The huge ogre that grabbed me is sitting opposite us on a bench seat with someone else next to him who has a sack over her head.

I know it’s a she from the heels, the dress, and the overpowering aroma of her perfume.

It’s good stuff, but way too much of it. I half wonder if that’s why she has a sack over her.

I have so much I want to tell my dad, but don’t want to say anything in front of this brute, or the woman under the sack for that matter.

My dad starts talking again, and Mr. Big raises his hand, threatening to hit him with it if he doesn’t keep quiet.

“Go ahead, asshole. You’re already looking at twenty to life, what’s one more slap gonna get ya?” he snarls bitterly, turning to me again.

“I’m just glad you’re safe honey, they said you were with Ben Slade but he’s been missing, dead for weeks now,” he continues, glaring at the guy and daring him to hit him again.

The woman under the sack gives a sarcastic grunt.

“Ha! Ben Slade, fat lot of good he’s done, anyone. Always seems to disappear when everybody else is getting snatched,” she spits.

“I think they should have used tape as well as the sack,” Dad retorts, rolling his eyes. “Don’t mind her, sweetie, she’s just the root cause of this whole mess.”

The huge guy growls, making his eyes wide with anger as he leans forward, I realize now that he can’t speak so he has to let his hands do all the talking.

“Hey!” I caution him, giving him a fierce look of my own. “We’re tied up in your stupid van what harm is there in talking to my own dad, you big… bully!” I snap at him.

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