Stolen By The Boss

“Dean,” I call out into the darkness. “Are you there?”

The sound of silence greets me as I move further throughout the house. I worry a little when Dean doesn’t answer, but I’m resolved to see this through. I can’t just sit in the living room like a sitting duck waiting for slaughter. No, I’ll face my attackers head on, and maybe even get a few blows in before I’m taken out.

“Dean?” I say one more time before I shut off my flashlight. No sense alerting the intruders to my presence. I’ve trained many hours for just this sort of thing. When Dean asked how I worked out, I didn’t want to divulge every way I train. I didn’t want him knowing every single self-defense class I’ve taken. How I became obsessed with learning ways to kill a single man with just a few moves. Better to surprise him if I ever find he’s untrustworthy.

There’s a noise off to my right. I step toward the sound, making sure I’m light on my feet as I move. The door at the end of the hall is open, and I creep closer. I push through the door, listening to every single noise. The only sound I hear is my heartbeat pounding in my chest.

I don’t move as I listen for the sounds of breathing.

But I hear nothing. Still, I don’t move, making myself as statuesque as possible.

“Sophia, is that you?” Dean’s voice comes out of the darkness and I don’t say anything just yet, not giving away my position. “Sophia?” he asks again.

“It’s me. What was the crash?” I flick on my flashlight once I realize we’re both safe.

“A down tree in the backyard hit the shed out in the field.”

“That crash sounded a lot closer than that.”

“I agree. That’s why I’m checking everything out.”

“What are you thinking it is? Bishop’s men?”

Dean shakes his head, his sandy-blond hair catching the light from the flashlight. “No, they have no clue about this place, my plan, or any of it.”

“You sure? Do you trust all of your men?”

He nods. “I do.”

“Well, that’s foolish.”

He steps closer, caging me in to where I can’t step around him. “Do you trust anyone?”

My heartbeat kicks up and I shake my head. “No.”

“I didn’t think so.” He holds out his hand for me to take. “You can trust me, Sophia. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How can I be so sure?”

He shrugs with a small smile. “You’re just going to have to believe me.”

I stopped believing in happy endings a long time ago. I don’t believe in things like trust or love, because I can’t afford to. Because I don’t have the liberties to take any man’s word. I have to be on my guard one-hundred percent of the time.

I didn’t always used to be this way. It wasn’t until I came to America and I was forced to leave my family behind. My little sister, gone. My mother, my brothers… all gone. I came to America at the age of fifteen and I had nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was cast out onto the streets and knew I had to survive. I knew I had to defend my own life because no one was going to defend it for me. I had to take care of myself. And that’s what I’ve been doing since I was fifteen.

Until the moment I got a job working as a maid for Georgio DeWinter. They helped me, getting me a Visa to work in the States. Then finally, I had a way to support myself. I was off the streets.

But I never stopped training. I never stopped learning to protect myself.

Because you never know.

I’m twenty-three now, and I’ve learned a lot. I’m able to ward off any normal attacker. Bishop, however, has me wondering if I’m actually ready.

I guess I’m going to have to be. Because as soon as this storm is over, I have to get off this island.

I take Dean’s hand, because right now I need him more than I don’t. This storm terrifies me. It brings back a haunted past. Memories I’d like to keep hidden in the depths of which they dwell, in the far recesses of my mind.

“Follow me. We can check the back of the house and make sure everything’s secure.”

Another loud thunder booms throughout the house, shaking the foundation beneath our feet. “I’m so ready for this storm to be over,” I tell Dean.

“Why don’t we make a game out of it?”

“A game?”

“Sure, why not?” he says as he leads me to the back entrance of the mansion past the garage.

Everything looks secure, but I’m still on edge. And by the way Dean purses his plump lower lip, I’d say he’s feeling the same way.

“What kind of game did you have in mind?” I try not to sound so seductive, but my tone is all wrong. I’m hoping Dean doesn’t notice.