Page 33 of Witness Protection

She couldn’t move. He hoisted her out of the seat. Her body felt like lead, and she was helpless in his arms as he carried her back to the factory. The scent of his woodsy cologne made her feel safe. She remembered Hawk carrying her out of her house on the day when everything changed.

Why did she feel the same security with Cayden? He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. And she shouldn’t feel such dark desires for a man she should detest.

But he’d come back for her. Why?

She could only assume he wanted the payday for himself, not willing to share with anyone else. But she could pretend.

Pretend he loved her.

Pretend he’d do anything to protect her.

Sophia had a vivid imagination, and it was a delicious thought. With the amount of alone time she had growing up, a creative mind was vital to her sanity. It kept reality tolerable and kept the loneliness at bay.

He didn’t set her down until they were back in the basement, his breathing not even labored after carrying her the whole way. Cayden sat her down on the sofa. She held out her arms in front of her, resting them on her knees. She stared at the bodies, then the splattering of blood against her pale skin. It reminded her of abstract art. Of death. Her mind fractured, that day coming back to haunt her again. Her body trembled involuntarily.

Cayden sat on the coffee table in front of her. “Shit.” He took one of her arms and began wiping it with a damp rag. She watched the movement of each stroke, seeing the blood smear, then disappear. “You can’t let it get to you,” he said. “Being Vasily’s daughter you should be used to all this.”

She shook her head. “I’m not as strong as you think.”

“You can sure put up a fight. Have you never seen blood before? I thought you were going to pass out.”

Yes, she’d witnessed a lot growing up, even if her father tried to shield her from the worst of it. Some days nothing fazed her, and she was ready to take on the world. Days like today, she wanted to be sheltered, protected, and hidden from everything dark and dangerous.

Since witnessing her father’s death, blood seemed to unhinge her.

“It reminds me of the day you killed my father.” She glanced up, meeting him eye for eye.

“You gonna remind me of that forever?”

He acted too casual about murder.

“That depends. Are you keeping me locked away forever?”

Cayden finished cleaning her arms. “A lot of people want you dead. I mean, a lot. There’s a price on your head, and some pretty scary fuckers are determined to cash in.”

“Like you?”

“This was never about money for me. This was me settling a debt, nothing more. All this other shit wasn’t part of the plan.”

“I heard what Ricky told you. Three million, dead or alive.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Even you can’t say no to that pay day.”

“No? You don’t know me very well.”

He stood up and her eyes traveled up his body.

His hard body.

She licked her lips and looked away. “I’m hungry,” she said, desperate to focus on anything but her twisted desires. “Do you have anything to eat here?”

“No,” he said. “I can order a pizza. Do you like pizza?”

Sophia smiled. “Doesn’t everyone?”

He sat on his office chair, spinning around to face her. “There’s a place near me that has the best pizza. You’ll have to try it one day.”

“What’s it called?”

“It’s not a chain. Just a Mom-and-Pop shop.” His brow furrowed, his mood shifting as if a page turned in his mind. “The man who mentored me growing up, his name was Frank Almeida. His family owned a bakery in my neighborhood. They were good people. Business was always a struggle, but it didn’t get them down. Your father had them all killed. The entire family. One, two, three, four, five…”

---