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Chapter Forty-seven

Sophia pointed at the man next to Manos. “What’s he doing here? That’s the same son of a bitch who’s been my nightmare since I arrived.”

Manos moved into her space, and her Spidey senses told her to run, get the hell out, but she just couldn’t give up now. “Manos, I’m telling you, this guy is bad news. What does he want?”

“It seems that he’s followed you here and is asking about you.”

“About me?” Stalling, she tried a fake chuckle and stepped forward aggressively. “Me? I bet he’s the jerk who wrecked my Yaya’s house that I spent all day cleaning. Why the hell does he think he can follow me?” She pointed at the man standing as still as a statue, seemingly unsure of his next move, waiting for direction. “What the hell do you want from me?”

Manos gestured for the prick to answer, but his eyes seemed to send a message to be careful of what was said.

Asshole leaned forward, temper sparking, “You have my ward, a Russian bi-girl called Anastasia. I paid her father for her to work for me, and she’s run off. You helped her. I want to know… where is she?”

Sophia looked first to Manos and then answered, “You terrified her so badly last night that she ran off. I don’t have a clue where she is.”

“She called one of the others today. He told us. I want her back.”

“Others?”The word spilled out before she could bite it off. Shit! She’d said the one thing that opened pandora’s box. Shit!

Sophia watched Manos in her peripheral vision and saw him reaching the same conclusion. “Take her!”

His order left her no choice.

She ran.

Heading to the French doors on the veranda, she pushed through them and ran straight to the dimly lit stable.Her sandals didn’t help. When shebent over to undothe back straps,her purse droppedand rolled away into the dark. Fuck! There wasno time to retrieve it before they closed in.She took off again.

Maybe the old man in the stable, Barak, would be able to stop Manos and his pal from doing whatever they had in mind. Or maybe she could get him to call 911. She barged in through the closed doors and found the place empty, the horses enclosed for the night. The only animal still somewhat free was Rambo. He’d been put into his stall, but he hadn’t been shut in completely. Barak must have sensed that the horse had enough of that on the ship and had left him able to move around rather than tethering him to a wall.

Panichung over her and the horse must have sensed it. He began to fret like before, neighing his disgruntles, shaking his head to let her know this intrusion didn’t sit well with him. Taking a minute to soothe him, she whispered, “I’m sorry, baby. I know you’re unhappy. But trust me, that makes two of us.”

She needed to hide. But where? She heard the two men opening the door. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the screaming in her ears was making her crazy. Then she realized it wasn’t nerves. It was Rambo. He was really not happy.

Looking everywhere, knowing there was no safe place to be where they couldn’t reach her, she did the one thing that might save her life. She wriggled into the stall, moving around Rambo, and blessed her luck that he sidestepped and pranced, but he didn’t attack.

Manos came forward but not too close. “Come out from there, Sophia. Rambo could crush you against the wall.”

“He won’t unless you provoke him. Go away.”

“You’re being silly. We will talk this through, and no one needs to get hurt. It’s all a mistake. You know that, right?”

Wishing she hadn’t dropped her purse, she wondered if he could still be played. If she could get out of this predicament without Sam’s plans beinginterrupted.

“I want you to trust me. I’ll send Douglas away and it’ll be just you and me.”

His words created a disgusting image. “I’m fine here with Rambo. Just go away.” Suddenly the old man, Barak, appeared at the opening of the stable and rushed to where Manos was standing. Doug slipped into the shadows and Barak didn’t see him. He had his eyes glued to the fretting horse.

“Bôs! What’s happening in here? You’re making Rambo nervous. Move back.”

Before he could answer, Doug appeared, swung a shovel, and clipped Barak on the back of his head. The man dropped to the ground; the sickening noise of the steel meeting skin resonating in the sudden quiet. Sophia felt sick to her stomach, and Rambo reacted to the increased tension surrounding him. He began running back and forth in his pen, leaping, kicking at the fencing, yet always shielding her as if he sensed he was her protection.

From her angle, she saw the glazed hatred in his eyes, the determination to be free so he could attack. No amount of words spoken softly altered his mood.

Knowing they’d passed the point of no return, Manos lost the cajoling sound from his tone and spoke with freezing authority, “Sophia, I will give you three minutes to make up your mind. Come out. Or I will shoot the fucking horse.” Then he lost it on Doug and screamed his order. “You fool! Did you kill him?”

Doug scrambled to his knees by the old man and checked for a pulse. “He’s alive. Do you want I should kill him?”

“No, you idiot. Get him to his quarters and dump him on the bed. He didn’t see you. And since I was in front of him the whole time, he’ll know I never hurthim. I’ll tell him it was a horse thief after Rambo. He heard the horse going crazy, so it’s believable. Then bring the SUV here to the stable.”

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