Page 122 of The Fates We Tame
“You want a copy of the Kama Sutra; I’ll get you one. You can pick a page number and we’ll give it the old college try.”
“It’s a bit cold now, but outside in summer sometime. Maybe on your bike, if that’s even possible.”
“Dear God, I’m likely going to die, but what a way to go.” I roll onto my side to face Sophia. Her cheeks are pink, and she looks happy.
Really fucking happy.
And I realize I am too.
32
SOPHIA
“Ifucking hate New York,” Niro complains as we survey the large industrial building now acting as a storage facility.
“It’s going to be a warren of corridors and shit lighting,” Theo says beside me. He pulls me close to his side, his hand tangled in a fistful of my hair. We’ve been this way since we had sex the previous day. An intimacy you simply can’t fake. “I don’t want you lifting things and hurting yourself.”
“I’ll carry things because I don’t like feeling limited. But”—I turn and kiss his cheek—“I will gratefully accept your help in carrying anything heavy.”
“Good enough,” he says. “I like this side of you.”
“What side of me?”
“The forthright Sophia.” He squeezes my hand.
Spark, Vex, Bates, and Niro flanked us on the ride. We’re making a quick stop here just to see how much stuff I have and see if there is anything I need in the short term. Then we’re headed on to the rehab center to meet with Dr. Polunin and her team.
Theo and I came in his truck, and I’m relieved. While he didn’t make a big deal about it, he had a headache, a dizzy spell of sorts, in the shower earlier. He promised that if it wasn’t gone before we left, he’d let someone else drive.
From the smile on his face a moment ago, I can tell it’s passed.
“Little Sophia,” says a rotund man in a tight-fitting polo shirt as he approaches us. “Alessio said you might be around.” He tugs me into a grip so tight, I’m suddenly uncomfortable and reach my arms out to my side instead of wrapping them around him.
“Hands off my wife,” Theo says, and I hear Niro chuckle.
I push the man away and glance over at Niro, who tips his head at Theo, mouthsmy wifeand starts making smooching faces.
It softens the quick flare of temper I had at being manhandled.
“Apologies. Old family friend. Would normally hug the girl. Think of her like a niece.” He looks down at me. “You still can’t remember shit?”
Theo steps up next to me and nudges me ever so slightly behind him, placing himself between me and the stranger.
“And you are?” I ask.
“Paul Russo. Or as you used to call me, Uncle Paulie. You don’t remember that, huh?”
I shake my head. “Don’t remember shit.”
Paulie glances at Theo. “You married a biker, Sophia. ’Course you can’t remember shit. Wouldn’t have married one if you could.” He laughs at his own joke like he’s on a TV special.
“We’re here for her belongings,” Theo says. “Locker?—”
“224. Yeah, I know. Helped the movers when they brought her stuff.”
“Movers brought my stuff? Not my family?” I ask. I suppose it makes sense given my family is wealthy, but I find I care thatthey let strangers see and touch my things. It feels like a further invasion of…me. Of my privacy.
Paulie laughs. “Can you see any of the Viscusos wrinkling their suits? Yeah, movers did it. Said your place was a right state when they did it too. Would have pictured you for a neat freak.”
