Her chin dropped and she closed her eyes.
“All right,” she accepted quietly.
CHAPTER 22
WHEN Garrett pushed into the cabin, Sophie saw that she and Garrett were the only two occupants. He closed the door behind them and shot her a look that suggested she not think of running again.
He gestured toward the table. “Have a seat. I’ll get you something to eat and drink.”
She sank wearily into a chair and folded her arms over the tabletop so she could rest her head. When Garrett set a glass of milk in front of her, she drank greedily and then returned her head to its perch. She closed her eyes and rested while Garrett rummaged around in the refrigerator. She was hungry, but she was too tired to eat.
A moment later, the door burst open, startling her from her lethargy. She bolted upright to see Sam stalk in, his eyes blazing. She barely had time to register her alarm before he was in front of her.
He yanked her to her feet, cupped one hand around her nape and then dragged her to him. He kissed her long and hard, his mouth molded so tight to hers that neither of them could draw a breath.
She inserted her hands between them and shoved as hard as she could. He didn’t budge. Instead he deepened his kiss, as if convincing her of his ownership.
His tongue flashed over hers. Warm, wet, tasting. His fingers rubbed firmly over the column of her neck and then up into her hair, tangling with the strands.
Finally he drew away, but he kept a hold on her nape as he stared down at her through half-lidded eyes.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he said in a low voice.
She tried to pull away again, but he cupped his other hand to her cheek and smoothed his thumb over her swollen lips.
“I know I hurt you, Sophie. I’m sorry. Sorrier than I can say. I don’t have time to explain everything to you now. I hope you’ll understand that.”
With that, he turned and strode toward Garrett. She listened in horror as he told his brother that Frank had had a heart attack and that their mother had been abducted from the hospital.
She swayed and had to brace herself against the table. She didn’t chance looking at either man. She couldn’t bear to see the rage in Garrett’s eyes. Rage that would be directed at her.
Nausea boiled in her stomach like acid, and she gulped breaths through her mouth. Her chest heaved, and she closed her eyes before finally sinking back into the chair.
All she wanted to do was bury her face in her arms and weep.
“Sophie, we need to go.”
She raised her head to see Sam standing by the table, his expression grim. Beyond him, Garrett was already striding from the cabin.
“Where?” she croaked out.
“Back home. To my father. I need to see him and then we have to find my mom.”
She shakily rose, nodding her agreement. Of course they had to go. She went out ahead of Sam and nearly ran into Garrett at the bottom of the steps. He grasped her arm to steady her before Sam took over and ushered her to the truck.
The ride was silent and tense. The two men didn’t speak. Garrett stared moodily out the window while Sam’s gaze remained fixed on the road.
She alternated feeling guilty for bringing her uncle to their doorstep and feeling angry for feeling guilty. Her uncle going after Sam and his family was inevitable. Once Sophie had been caught, her uncle would have taken steps to eradicate the Kellys.
But now she needed to give Sam all the necessary ammunition to take the fight to her uncle and hopefully rescue his mother in the process. She prayed that Marlene would be kept alive. If her father were still in charge, Marlene would have already been killed and left for Sam and his family to find as a message. Her uncle wasn’t as ruthless as her father, though. Not that he didn’t try to be. He was just weaker. He wanted to be seen as someone who was strong and as capable of running a criminal empire as her father, but not many men were. Alex Mouton had had no conscience when he was living, and Sophie could only hope he was consigned to hell in death.
She pressed her lips together and inhaled deeply through her nose. Then she straightened in her seat and pushed away from the window so she could readily see both men from her position in the back.
“My father is dead.”
Sam’s head came up to look at her in the rearview mirror at the same time Garrett whipped around to stare at her.
“You’re sure of this?” Sam demanded. “This is important, Sophie. We have to know for sure. We can’t afford to assume anything.”
“Did you see his body?” Garrett cut in.
“I saw,” she said softly. “I’m the one who killed him.”
Sam braked suddenly and pulled onto the shoulder. He shoved the truck into park but left the engine turning. Then he rotated around so he too could stare back at her.
“You want to run that by me again?”
“I killed him. I shot him to be exact.”
“Holy fuck,” Garrett muttered.
Sam closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture of frustration.
“You shot him.”
“Yes.”
“Christ, is that why your uncle is after you? Revenge?” Garrett asked.
“I have something he wants.”
She chased the tremble from her voice, refusing to wimp out now that she’d boldly made her confession.
Sam immediately became more alert. His eyes sharpened, then narrowed.
“What do you have, Sophie?”
“They key to my father’s vault.”
Garrett frowned harder. “And? That has significance why?”
“The vault houses my father’s wealth. Not only his wealth, but all the details of his business transactions, his contacts, prototypes of the weapons he has developed over the years. Your Mr. Resnick was concerned about the idea of him developing nuclear technology. If he has, the details are there with everything else.”
“And he just keeps this shit locked in a vault?” Garrett asked incredulously.
She almost smiled. “It’s not just any vault. It’s an underground, state-of-the-art, completely secure, climate-controlled vault. And when I say vault, don’t imagine some bank vault-type thing, something you could maybe fit a car into. This is a vast compound. It’s a huge chamber with only one way in and one way out. And once you enter, you can’t exit the way you came in. It’s all one way.”
“And you have the key to this. He just left this lying around for anyone to get,” Sam said.
Ignoring the sarcasm, she nodded once again. “I cut it from his neck with the knife you left in the hotel room. After I shot him. It was my insurance policy. It was my way of making sure I stayed alive. I knew they’d come after me for killing my father. They’d hunt me down and they’d dispatch me like they would any other enemy. But I wouldn’t die quickly. Because I’m blood and I betrayed my blood, they’d make my death long and painful. Because I turned on my father, I’d be made to suffer until I begged for death. That key prevents them from killing me. If they find me, they have to take me alive or risk never retrieving the only way into Alex’s vast underground network of wealth and business. Tomas can only temporarily take over as leader of the Mouton family ‘business.’ Soon he’ll run out of resources, money and support. Without a way into my father’s vault, Tomas will be nothing.”
“Christ,” Sam swore. “He keeps that shit in a vault? It’s insane.”
She raised an eyebrow. “How so? He deals in gold. Gems. Untraceable wealth. He doesn’t trust banks. He never leaves records of his transactions. Everyone else? He keeps meticulous accounts of everyone he’s ever had dealings with. In his books he has the names of countless world leaders, many from the West who would die were their crimes to come to light. Many would kill for this key. I never plan to give it up.”