I couldn’t help but smile at my thoughts, at the truth, and lo and behold, she smiled back.
“Hot guy?” she asked. “That sounds nice.”
“Oh, I bet you have tons of hot guys,” I said, my mouth snaking upward.
“Me?” she asked and then quickly rubbed the tip of her nose, sniffing. I bet she didn’t have a cold. “No, most of the guys I go out with aren’t very hot.” She laughed awkwardly.
“Maybe it’s the area,” I tried, fishing for info. “Burbank. Too many actors.”
“Oh, no, I live in Pasadena,” she said. “Too many married men.”
I smiled. “Well that doesn’t help.”
“And they never leave their wives for me,” she continued with a non-committal shrug.
I kept smiling, thinking she was kidding. But she wasn’t.
I had to play it cool.
I swallowed down my rage and took a deep breath.
“Nervous?” she asked me. She was more astute than I thought.
“Yeah, just thinking about the date,” I said, covering up.
“What’s the guy’s name?”
Camden McQueen. Camden McQueen. Camden McQueen.
The words were dying to come out of my mouth, just to see the look on her face but I reeled them in and said, “Derek.”
Hey, why not.
“Hot name,” she said, and then she turned her back to me and started making preparations.
The thing I learned about Sophia over the next hour was that she never once mentioned her son, even when I started babbling to her about being single and wanting children and how was I going to balance working at the advertising firm with a child. She didn’t offer anything about Ben.
Not until the end.
She was slapping moisturizer on my face, hurrying because I could tell her next client had arrived and she said, “Well I hope your date goes well this weekend.”
“Thanks,” I told her, swinging my legs over the side.
She picked up my bag from the ground and got my jacket from the hook. As I slipped the jacket on over my blouse, she gave me a dry smile and said, “Listen, about the kid thing. Don’t bother. They always seem like a good idea at the time but they’ll fuck up your life.”
I knew my jaw had dropped open. I couldn’t help it.
She smiled coldly. “I’m serious. I wish someone had told me that back in the day. So enjoy your hot man. Just make sure you use a condom.”
I closed my mouth and swallowed hard, feeling angry and flustered and shocked all at once.
She motioned for me to go to the counter and then waved over the next woman, someone who was obviously a regular. I moved over to the cashier in a daze.
Had she seriously just told me that?
That definitely didn’t help sway my desire to shank her.
And it definitely made me more determined than ever to get Ben far, far away.
I paid for the treatment – leaving her a shitty tip that had the clerk eyeing me like I was nuts – and then high-tailed it out of there. I got in the Mini Cooper and drove home, my hands kneading the steering wheel through miles and miles of heavy traffic. I knew Camden and Gus were waiting nearby the salon to tail her when she went home for the evening. I quickly gave them a call, relaying the information that I picked up but left out that last part. Camden didn’t need any more ammo, and if he did, well then I would give it to him. For now, he needed to keep his head clear and his emotions under control.
I got home, poured myself a glass of wine and waited for my men to get home. Then I poured myself another glass of wine and waited some more.
Here’s the thing about being alone.
You’re not.
You have your demons with you.
Sitting in that house, the house that wasn’t mine, with the furniture that wasn’t mine, and the red wig splayed across the kitchen table, was the first time I’d been alone in what felt like a long time. There was the time in the jungle before I found Camden, but that was no time to reflect or think.
Now I truly was alone.
And it was terrifying.
Not only being in a large and still unfamiliar house with unfamiliar sounds.
And not because I still had this undercurrent of paranoia at the back of my head, this feeling of dread that followed me around in this bright Californian sunshine.
But because I was alone with my thoughts.
Alone with my guilt.
Alone with the knowledge of the things I’d done.
The people I’d killed.
So many sins.
I put my head on the table and cried. I cried for my mother, for the father I knew and lost, for Violetta, I even cried for Javier. I cried for the men I shot, in self-defense or self-preservation. I cried for the people I’d stolen from, robbed, conned, lied to. I cried for everyone who ever had to meet me.
Everyone except Travis.
For him I felt nothing at all, a stone where my heart should be.
I cried until Camden and Gus eventually came home and found me a blubbering, tear-streaked mess who’d drunk an entire bottle of wine. Camden picked me up in his arms and brought me to bed where he stayed with me until morning.
Then the sun rose and his lips lightened my soul and his heart set me free.
And I was able to move on.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
While I was busy having my pity-party at home, Camden and Gus had stayed out until just after Sophia’s work closed. She got into a Prelude, newer model, and drove on the 134 until she got to Pasadena, Camden and Gus following her the whole time, two cars behind. From the way Camden described it the next morning, it was like old times with him and Gus in the car, only they weren’t chasing me this time.
They said that Sophia lived in a small bungalow on the edge of a golf course, a much easier location to get in and out of than an apartment building, which was good, but she had quite a few neighbors and they were close to her, which could pose a bit of a problem. Camden got choked up when he mentioned Ben. He didn’t see him but he could see a few toys scattered in the front yard, solidifying his existence.
As much as Camden wanted to swoop in there and get his son back, patience was an unfortunate virtue. Gus wanted us to hold off for a few days while they basically stalked Sophia to get an idea of where she went and at what times and who had Ben when she wasn’t around. The tighter the operation was, the less traumatic it would be for Ben.
It was on day three of their surveillance that they discovered the neighbor across the street took Ben to her house every other day, while Sophia placed him in daycare during the remaining days. The neighbor was an older woman in her late fifties who didn’t appear to have children herself but would take in a few other kids in the neighbourhood, maybe for some extra money. An easier target than a daycare.
When they got home that day and we were lying in bed, I could tell that Camden was beating himself up about it and what they had to do.
