Trapping Sophia (Disciples 6)

It’ll come down to who’s a better shot.

Amanda shrugs her shoulders. “It was easy, I just used a couple of programs I wrote to crack them. I shouldn’t have even bothered though. The passwords were just a mixture of birthdays.”

She knows she’s on the precipice of death. It’s there in her eyes. She’s welcoming it, but she’s also frightened. She doesn’t know what waits for her.

Maybe she has done more than I originally thought. Maybe she’s already killed.

“What’s on the laptop?” I ask.

“Shouldn’t you be asking her?” Amanda asks me right back.

“I will be, soon. Sophia and I have an agreement. No secrets, no lies… But she’s not able to handle it right now, so you’re her proxy,” I say.

Then I nod to Johnathan, who has moved his hand toward his hip.

“That hand moves another inch, buddy, and we’re going have a lot to explain when it’s all over. Dad won’t be happy,” I smirk.

“Don’t really like the way this is playing out, brother. Think you can ease up and play nice?” Johnathan grumbles out through his thick beard.

“Sure.” I smile at Amanda and then turn my back to her.

Looking John in the eyes, I say, “Cronin found the links we’ve been searching for.”

“Fuck,” Johnathan growls and moves his hand away from his hip. Reaching up, he rubs his forehead.

“Now the question is, how deep is Morrison in with the Russians?” I ask as I turn to Amanda.

Smirking faintly at the corners of her lips, she says, “How would I know? I never looked into the files. I only cracked the passwords for Sophia.”

“Sure, sure…” I say and let it go.

She didn’t dig into the laptop, I know she’s being honest about that. She’s been following this shit from a different track though. I bet she’s been snooping around like Simon does. Which is funny to think because she may have gotten her hands on some information before he did. He’s got competition.

Simon hates competition.

“Alright, let’s wrap this up,” I say. “You guys get out of here. I need to take care of my wife and call Simon.”

“You know Simon’s going to want that laptop,” Johnathan says as he starts ushering Beth and Charlie toward the door.

“Yeah… well, I get to look first, then I’ll hand it off,” I say as I open the front door for him.

“Figured you would. Let me know if you need help or backup,” John says and walks out behind Charlie and Beth.

“Sure,” I say and put my arm across the door frame to stop Amanda.

Snarling at me blocking her way, Amanda starts to reach into her pockets but I shake my head at her. “Do you remember how to get here?”

Amanda’s voice drips with sarcasm as she asks, “Oh… is this where you try to be the big, bad scary guy and tell me to forget?”

“No,” I answer with a smirk. “When you leave here, pay attention to the turnoff about a half-mile down the road. It’s a long gravel drive. Four days from now, I want you to take that turnoff and drive to the house at the end of the road. Wait in your car until a man named Oscar comes out.”

“Why? So I can hear dueling banjos?” she snaps at me.

“Oscar swings for the same team, Amanda. You aren’t in any danger,” I say and move my arms away from the door.

In another life, I could see Amanda in a different light. Smiling radiantly as she walked down the aisle to the man of her dreams. She’d have two kids and a husband who doted her. She’d have all the things a woman of means could want or ever think of having.

It would be a shallow existence, but safe and secure.

She won’t get that life now, and if she tried, it would kill her. She’d drown herself in a bathtub with a toaster.

“And if I don’t go?” she asks like I’m fucking putting her out or something.

“That’s up to you,” I say and smile at her mistrust. “I’m simply showing you the gate. If you want to close it… that’s on you.”

“Did you kick them out?” Sophia whispers when I finally calm down enough to head back into the bedroom.

“Somewhat,” I say as I lay down beside her.

Pulling the covers over us when she doesn’t push me away, I wrap my body around her curled up form and nuzzle my face into her hair.

“Why? They didn’t…” she starts to say but trails off, clearing her throat.

“Because I’m not in the right frame of mind to see my wife hurting,” I say honestly.

“You can’t just kick people out like that.”

“I talked to them downstairs before they left,” I say. “Specifically Amanda.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Is there anything you want to tell me?” I say as gently as possible.

I know she’s been through so fucking much, but I need to know what she’s thinking and feeling.