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"You are alive, and you are loved. Is that not enough?”
“He hates me.”
"He does not hate you. He feels betrayed. But he is still loving you. Protecting you. Making sure you have what you need. It is easy to care for someone when they are easy. It is so much harder when they are…”
“Hard? You’re a great fucking poet, aren’t you.”
“That's enough.”
Smithers’ tone was no longer deferential. It was sharp, and authoritative, and so unexpected that it snapped her out of her attitude for a moment.
“You can't speak to me that way. You’re a servant. You work for me!”
A year ago she would never have said such a thing to another human being. As the words emerged from her mouth, she felt the arrogance of their shameful attitude.
Smithers was not having it.
He walked toward her with great purpose, and a determination in his eyes which gave her that sinking feeling in her stomach which told her she was in real trouble.
“Okay, I’m sorry," she said, trying to preempt what was going to happen with an apology. “That was rude of me.”
“It was," Smithers agreed.
“Well. I’ve said sorry, so I’m sorry, so we’re good, right?”
“That’s not how apologies work. And it is definitely not how punishments work.”
“Dude. Come on."
But Smithers was not a dude. He was the kind of man who followed through once he began something, and he had begun a pursuit of the young mistress of the house which did not end quickly.
It was a big house. There was a lot of real estate.
“Don't make me chase you, Sophie.”
“Uhm. Yeah. I’m going to make you chase me,” she said, edging toward the large staircase which led to a myriad of rooms and halls by which she might make an escape of some kind.
“Sophie. Stop. You're acting like a brat.”
“Okay, well. That’s fine by me. Is that fine by you? I feel like it's fine, given the circumstances.”
She was nervous. Alex had punished her many times, but Alex was her lover and her husband, and... well, the first time he had been nothing more than her displeased boss.
This guy was her displeased butler. Was she moving up in the world, or down? Hard to tell.
“You can’t do… whatever it is you're planning on doing.”
“I think I can.”
“I’m someone else’s wife! I’m Alex’s wife! He's your boss," she reminded Smithers just in case he'd forgotten any of those facts.
“Alex doesn’t want you running amok here. You're here because of your actions. I would not have laid a finger on you if you’d behaved yourself. Instead, you’ve thrown tantrums and demolished the ice cream supply while your husband lies in a hospital bed.”
"What do you want me to do? I’m not allowed to see him! I can’t be with him! They took everything from me!”
“Who is they?”
“Whoever actually shot him.”
“You shot him.”
“No, I fucking didn’t!”
“There was no other angle from which to shoot. He was gut shot while standing in front of you. It was you, Sophie.”
“No! It wasn’t! It wasn’t me!” She screamed the words and broke down into fits of sobbing tears propelled by a desperation she felt in her core, but which everybody else seemed to think was an act. “I love him! Why would I shoot him in front of everybody at a wedding!?”
Smithers sighed and wrapped her in a hug rather than whipping her as he had seemed inclined to do. His touch was better than nothing, but it was not Alex’s touch, and could not reach the desperately miserable part of her which sat at her core and ached and bled.
Had she really shot the man she loved? If so, why? How?
If she believed Smithers, and Alex, and the guards who looked at her with barely veiled malice in their eyes, then she had to admit that she may very well have done what they said she did. If she had, then why had she?
She needed answers, and she was going to get them.
Chapter 33
Sophie was going to clear her name. No matter what. Staying obediently inside the safe walls of Alex’s compound wasn’t going to do it. She had to go to the man who had some idea what was going on. She had to step into the spider’s web and let herself be caught.
She wasn't certain precisely how she was going to come to Indigo’s attention. She had to be smart. Maybe there was some way to communicate with him. Alex had once said there was no way to call him, but she had a feeling she was going to be able to get in touch somehow. Maybe she should set something on fire.
Who was Indigo really? He was obviously rich and powerful, but unlike Alex who had public positions and was known far and wide, Indigo was simply infamous in certain silent sections of the world.
