“You won’t be alone, I’ll be there. With this new information your dad has to allow me to move. He has to. The box is the polygraph test; they can refuse to take it. It’s not admissible in court anyway.” I can tell irritation is slowly winning the battle with calmness by the way my hands are shaking. “Whoever the fuck it is, I’m telling you, is dead! There are only a handful of people it could be, Sophia.”
Shock quickly registers on her face as she does her own process of elimination. Tears now make their presence known and slide over her face. “Oh, my God. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. They taped us!”
Seeing her in tears has always been my greatest weakness, but it also drives me into complete protection mode since it’s the only thing I can do. She burrows herself into me, and I willingly take her, offering comfort and strength.
“I would make it all go away if only I could, you know that. I’ll take care of it. It’s just you and me . . . just you and me.” I hold her close, not allowing an inch of her to part from me.
Give
—isn’t it the easiest to do when the one receiving is the person that’s most important to you? That is who Sophia is to me . . . she doesn’t even need to ask because it’s in bred in me to give to her each and every time.
Take
—the easiest to do because the one I take it from willingly, even sacrificially, gives it to me. So, I’ll take her trust, her understanding. It’s a promise that every time I take from her, I’ll give it back tenfold.
SOPHIA
AN HOUR AFTER THE AGENTS
took Mark, Michael, and Joanna in for questioning, Darcee shows up.
“Where are the boys and Joanna, Soph? No one’s up front.” Darcee asks looking over her shoulder.
I shake my head and turn to Luke. “I still don’t agree with this. You guys should be questioning Nicole!”
“We’ve discussed this with you already. After the polygraph test and some questions, they should be back in a couple of hours.”
“Is Bryanna gonna be questioned, too?”
“I’m sure Dan or someone will get in touch with Bryanna. If she’s not guilty, she’ll agree to the box.”
“This is unbelievable! Those guys have been with me since the beginning! They would never cross me, Luke! Never! I’ve known Bryanna for so long!”
Darcee looks at me wearing the same confused look I have. Why are my friends being targeted? Are they that enamored by Nicole?
“You’ll be surprised.” He scoffs off. “Sometimes the closest to you are the ones who betray you. Unfortunate, but true. Best you accept that sooner rather than later, Soph.” He walks away giving orders to Travis and Quinn.
I’m in denial just as Damien, Luke, and everyone else has been telling me. I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that Mark, Joanna, or Michael could be the one who planted that recorder. Absentmindedly, I start walking up the stairs followed closely by Darcee, who thankfully is holding my mood stabilizer—Caramel Macchiato Frappuccino. Seconds after my butt hits the sofa, Darcee is talking like a hyped up energizer bunny.
“Sit down. We need to have a board meeting.” Darcee’s only command as she hands me my drink.
I pull her into the bathroom next to the kitchen while turning the faucet and the shower on full blast, and then I flush the toilet for good measure. Even though Luke assures me there are no more bugs, I’m still paranoid. Anyone would be. Meanwhile, she looks at me as though I’ve mentally checked out.
“Which one do you want to do first, wash your hands, take a shower, or shit? Because if it’s the third option, I’m. . . .” Darcee bends over and reaches for something underneath the sink. “. . . . gonna need this!” She dangles air freshener in my face.
I roll my eyes at her grabbing the air freshener and setting it on the counter. “My house was bugged,” I tell her as I start wringing my hands.
“Girl, you need to call an exterminator! Oh my God! Are they roaches?” She looks on the floor, flips the toilet seat down, and stands on it while her tea is all but forgotten laying on the bathroom floor.
“Darcee, as in someone planted a recorder in my bedroom and could hear everything.”
Her eyes widen out, and her mouth hangs open. There might have been a few droplets of her saliva hitting the bathroom floor, so un-lady like. I give her a couple of seconds to recover from the shock as I nervously bite on my lower lip.
“Are you shitting me? There’s no way Mark or Michael could do it! Neither would know how to James Bond that shit! Unless . . .” she gasps out loud and snaps her mouth shut. “. . . . unless they want to be a peeping tom and see Damien’s hard ass or measure his winky!”
“Darcee! It’s a recorder not a camera! Seriously!”
Shaking her head she speaks, “Oh! Well, I honestly don’t think Mark or Michael could do it. Or even Joanna for that matter. The only thing that chick knows how to expertly do is contour her face with make-up. Oh, and answer the phone.”
“Listen, someone is sabotaging my dad’s campaign and using Damien and me to achieve it. I suspect Nicole’s somewhat connected because of the numerous coincidences that have happened. His political enemies are using this to their advantage, to attack him publicly about family values and his stance on abortion. It’s non-stop. It’s almost as if there’s a conspiracy going on against my dad.”
“This is way over my head. I can’t believe you haven’t mentioned anything to me! My mom hasn’t said a single thing. And Bryanna? Really?”
“I just found out myself, Dar. This is getting crazier by the minute. I mean, do you think Bryanna would betray me? According to Damien, he only trusts a few people, and Bryanna doesn’t fall on that list.”
She shakes her head as she steps down from her perch. “I don’t know, Soph. I don’t think so. But for the sake of argument let’s say she could. She doesn’t even have a reason to.”
“I hope they question Nicole, or at the very least subject her to the box.”
“I knew there was a reason why I hated that bitch from the get go. Ugh! But for the record, this abortion bullshit, I’m sorry but I believe it. I mean the chances are high, Soph. Really high.”
I silently rebuke Darcee’s thought while taking a deep breath. “I believe him, Darcee.”
She arches her brow. “Then why did he fail to tell you? I doubt Nicole would’ve kept it from him. Whether he knew or not, he still got her pregnant, Soph. He got someone pregnant! What’s worse he knew, didn’t tell you, and now he’s acting dumb and blaming it on some stupid conspiracy.”
My head is spinning with whatever Darcee just spewed out about my husband as if she doesn’t know him at all. But could I really blame her? I came up with the same conclusion. If she’s thinking it, how much more are other people? My parents? My friends? Everyone?
“Wake up and smell the coffee, Soph. I hate to think it, but it’s just the most logical answer. Nicole has wanted to sink her claws into him and wouldn’t this be the best way to do it? Nicole also has hated you from the start. Her misplaced jealousy paired with her craziness concocted this perfect scenario to destroy you . . . to hurt you.” Darcee’s eyes are a plethora of emotions ranging from anger to pity.
“I wonder what Bryanna thinks about all this,” I mumble.
Darcee huffs. “Funny thing, we were just talking about it last night. She thinks Nicole’s the mastermind of all this. You know based on the pictures being leaked. She mentioned a name of a senator, but I can’t remember who.” She starts tapping her lips with her index finger in deep thought. “Damn! I can’t remember!”
“Why would she mention a senator?”
I feel my whole body go numb as clarity hits me. Damien told me about the emails between a senator and someone else. Where did Bryanna hear about a senator? Why would she even mention it? God! I’m turning into a paranoid bitch doubting one of my closest friends.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Soph. What are you thinking?” Darcee shakes my arm and forces me to sit on the edge of the tub.
“Damien told me about an email between a senator and somebody. I mean that is information that’s privy to only a few. The media doesn’t even know that! So, how could she have known about a senator?”
“Soph, Bryanna has always been a political nut. She’s always watching the news and other cable shows. Maybe she heard it from one of your dad’s detractors. He has a lot you know, or she heard it from a conspiracy theorist nut job.”
“I hate how this makes me feel. How it makes me think! I’m getting too paranoid. It’s causing me to doubt Bryanna, what does that say about me? Oh God.” I bury my face in my palms, embarrassed by the way I’m thinking.
Darcee’s arms go around my shoulders, pulling me to her. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. I mean, I can’t even understand all this, much less put everything in the right perspective.”
“I hate this is even happening. Whoever is behind all this, even if it’s Bryanna or anyone close to me . . .” I stop to swat away my tears. “ . . . I’ll fight whoever to protect the people I love.”
Fight
—I never thought I’d make a conscious decision to. I’ve never been so determined in my life to defeat whoever is behind all of this. So yes, I’m standing to fight, not for myself but for my dad and my husband. Both have worked so hard to keep their names clean. A name I once used, and the other I happily now hold.
Flight
—Not a chance. Not when the ones who are going to get hurt are the two most important men to me. This time, there’s no backing down. No turning the other cheek. Fleeing is not an option. . . . it’s not even up for consideration.
DAMIEN
Two important things happened today. One, the President gave me the green light after learning about the recorder found in our apartment. Two, I received a text this morning that our informant is ready to meet. A feeling of determination finds its way into my heart. It’s the same feeling I got when handed a mission. It’s clearer now for me, the plans are laid out, people are in place and the end feels closer. I can literally smell it. To say my patience is running thin is an understatement.
My phone buzzes and a simple text appears on the screen making me smile for the first time since we got back from Big Sur.
“I’m out of here, boys. See you tomorrow.” I give Dan a salute as I make my exit.
He gives me a smile then says, “You’re gonna tell Soph that Mark, Michael, and Joanna are cleared, right? I know Tony talked to Luke, but I wasn’t able to follow up. Don’t tell her about Bryanna just yet. You know the box isn’t admissible in court, so we need more solid evidence. Go home for now, we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
I decide to pass by our local wine market to grab Sophia’s favorite when I’m assaulted by a couple of reporters. They’re itching to get the newest scoop or to twist my words to make a story of their own.
“Is she giving you the cold shoulder? One of her former boyfriends says she does that when she’s upset. A form of payback,” asks one male reporter.
“Are you in the dog house? How are her parents handling it? Is the President giving you the cold treatment, too?”
These are just a couple of questions they throw at me. Instead of answering, I choose to bide my time. I head straight to the aisle to get what I came for, and then stroll up to the cashier to check out. Being vultures that they are, as soon as I step out a chorus of voices sound off. Each of them throws questions my way.
“So, Damien, with all the pictures surfacing of you and Nicole, how has it affected you and Sophia?” A female reporter asks the question I’ve been waiting for.
I appear to look somber. “I was afraid from the beginning about Sophia’s age. How she would react during situations such as this, and regretfully, she has shown the huge disparity in our ages.”
“Damien, is the honeymoon over? Is she considering a divorce? Did you father the baby Nicole had aborted? Can you confirm?”
“If she wants to get one, then I guess that’s what she’ll do. Wouldn’t she be the best person to ask? As far as Nicole, it wouldn’t be fair to answer without me talking to her first. I owe her that, though I feel everyone already thinks I’m the father.” I speak slowly, enunciating every word.
“So, you’re saying a meeting will happen soon? Why didn’t you contact her sooner?”
“I can’t really just pick up the phone and call her. She’s under a lot of stress, too.”
I walk back to my car ignoring any more questions. Once inside I blow out a breath, relieved I was able to do what I needed to do. Armed with my wife’s favorite wine, I drive to our apartment eager to see and kiss the worry out of her. I wish I could tell her why I said what I said when asked by that reporter, but I know I can’t. I just can’t.
“Babe, I’m ten minutes away. Please do not turn on the TV until I get there, understand?”
“Ookay. . . . but why?”
“Just do it, please.” I use my stern voice knowing it’ll do the trick.
“Fine.” She’s quiet for a moment, then mumbles, “You won’t guess what I have to tell you.”
“Are you pregnant?” A smile spreads across my face imagining my wife carrying our child.
“Uh . . . I don’t think your swimmers are that powerful. We can try, though when you get home.” Her voice changes an octave lower making it known the desire building in her. “I’ll have dessert waiting.”