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Gaging by the look in his eyes, whatever he was about to say was going to be a lie. “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit!” she yelled at him, her temper finally getting the best of her. “You do know. You don’t strike me as the type of man to not have all the information you need for a job.”
His lips were sealed tight. Something was happening, and her father didn’t want her to know what. That was alright, she’d find out. She would push until someone told her.
Until then, though, she responded, “Fine. But me being uninformed could very well mean life or death. Do you really want that on your conscience?” Guilt could be a great motivator for some people. While she didn’t think she could guilt Braxton into telling her everything, a few answers just might be enough to find out what was going on.
She hoped.
Son of a motherfucking bitch.
The little spitfire had Braxton stuck between a rock and a hard place. She reminded him so much of his own sister with her meek presence, yet hellfire eyes. Her father had been very clear that she couldn’t know what was happening. Why she was in danger.
That it had nothing to do with his work.
The threats had been clear from the beginning. Someone wanted Sophia. Their obsession with the young woman had become so compulsive that her father had hired him long before she’d met him.
He’d been tailing her for weeks when the threats got to be more graphic. Details of what the perpetrator wanted to do to her. Would do to her when he got his hands on her.
Anthony had been clear on two things when he’d hired Brax.
Keep Sophia safe at all costs.
Don’t trust his wife.
Not telling Sophia about what was actually happening when she’d asked was hard as hell. Especially now that contact had finally been made with her. Shit was about to hit the fan, and frankly, he needed her to be aware of what was happening.
Knocking on Anthony’s office door with Sophia’s phone in hand, he knew it was time to have a word with the older man about not protecting her from the truth.
Avoiding everyone all day had seemed like a good idea after her showdown with Braxton earlier that morning over the threats against her father. Or her. Or whoever the hell was being threatened.
Sophia had been a nervous wreck all day. She’d tried playing music loud enough so that she wouldn’t hear the creaks and groans of the house. It didn’t work too well. Paranoia quickly reared its ugly head, and she feared not hearing someone coming—being taken by surprise.
r /> When she shut the music off, she’d picked up a new romance book. Turns out it was a thriller romance with a lot of detail, and her imagination started running rampant. A text to Braxton confirmed that both her parents had left the house and weren’t expected back anytime soon, so she’d gone to the family garden.
Filled with rows upon rows of roses, sunflowers, lilacs, and many other flora, it was normally her calming place. Sophia absolutely loved working in the garden, feeling the soil between her fingers as she gave life to the purest beauty.
Between birds chirping and the large bushes, trees, and shrubs, her own shadow became her worst enemy. She saw menace around every corner. Unable to enjoy herself for long, she’d taken solace back inside her room.
Behind a locked door.
Under a multitude of blankets.
Imagining the worst to happen.
Finally exhausted from the stress of her anxiety, she’d fallen into a panic-riddled sleep full of monsters and shadows. With no way to protect herself, she was soon entrapped in a nightmare made from horror flicks.
Cruising through the streets of town, anticipation and excitement flowed through Nox as Shinedown’s “Call Me” blared through the speakers of his car on his way to pick up Soph. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to actually date a woman, get to know her.
With Sophia, there was something about her. She emitted this aura, a mystery he wanted to unlock. She wasn’t just some dolled up society girl. There were layers to her, and he couldn’t wait to peel each one back. Expose all of her.
Watching the clock all day made the time feel as though it was going backwards instead of forward. Work wasn’t happening, so Loch and Levi had been forced to pick up his slack, not that he hadn’t done the same for them in the past. This was a first for him, though, and they both had a blast busting his balls about it.
Leaving work early had been a blessing. Spending nearly an hour picking what he was going to wear had not been his proudest moment. It was her, all her. He wanted to be his best. Not because he thought she would expect more from him, he just got the feeling she cared more about who a person was rather than what they could offer. He wanted to look his best for her.
After staring at himself in the mirror for almost half that time wearing slacks, a dress shirt, and sport coat—which wasn’t his style at all—he’d finally cursed up a storm and decided to go with his typical attire. A dark blue Henley paired with his lucky dark wash Buffalo jeans and bomber jacket over top. The coat might be a bit much since the spring weather was warming up.
It was purely selfish reasoning behind his choice. If Soph got cold, then she’d have to wear his coat, be surrounded by his scent. She’d go to sleep smelling of him.
