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She’s also fiercely loyal to those she cares about, and brilliant in her college studies. Like on Simon’s level of intelligence, and that’s fucking scary.

The thing that gets me the most about Sophia though is the way she attunes herself to those around her.

When I watch my brother and his wife, I see their ways of communicating without ever using their mouths. It’s like they have this ability to talk with just their eyes. Sometimes it’s just a small look to the other. A small look that speaks more than words ever could.

I want that with Sophia, and I know we’ll have it. I know it deep down somewhere inside of me. Just like I know when I finally get between her thighs, we’ll break each other over a thousand rocky shores.

The bathroom door opens a crack and Sophia peeks her head out. “Why are you just sitting there?”

“Because, until you’re done in there, I’m not leaving this room,” I say.

“I… I don’t even know what to say to that,” she says, clearly frustrated.

I shrug my shoulders at her. “Get some clothes and take them in with you. Take your shower, get dressed, and come back out.”

Nodding her head at each suggestion, I can see she’s wanting to fight me, but she’s exhausted and probably ready to crash at any moment.

Walking into the room, she quickly disappears inside her closet and reappears with what looks like leggings and a shirt.

Pausing in front of the dresser close to her bed, she looks over her shoulder at me. “This is really creepy.”

“Yeah, probably,” I agree, “but get it done.”

Digging through her dresser drawer, she pulls out a couple of things and quickly tucks them into her bundle of clothing.

I know I should be an adult about things, but I’m dying to get a glimpse of her panties. Just to know what she plans on wearing.

I’d dive through her lingerie drawer if I wasn’t soaking wet and trying to remain strong.

Racing back into the bathroom, she slams the door shut, and I can hear her lock the door.

My phone starts vibrating in my pocket right as I the shower turns on in the bathroom. Pulling it from my pocket, I press connect.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“While I think this has been a waste of resources, Uriel was able to pick up the trail of Morrison’s son. He’s been making a circuit around the house and street. It’s wide but he’s keeping tabs on you. Another cop car, an officer Dickers, has been patrolling as well,” Simon says.

“Give me a second,” I say.

Standing up from the chair, I bend over and tilt my head down toward the floor. I can see Sophia’s shadow under the seal of the door.

She’s listening.

Leaving the bedroom, I walk until I reach the stairs leading to the first floor before I ask, “What’s the situation with the Morrisons? And anything on Dickers?”

I’m somewhat aware of the Morrisons. I know the elder Morrison and Chief Cronin were friends. Dickers is an unknown to me. I used to know a bunch of the officers on the force, but I’ve been lax lately.

That’s probably because of my obsession with her. She’s taken over so much of my mind, I can’t remember where she ends and outside life begins.

“Dickers is a lifer who hasn’t seen a promotion since he became a training officer. From the internal memos, I can see he’s formed a small cadre of likeminded individuals within his precinct,” Simon says with an almost monotone voice.

He’s putting together files of information quickly in his mind.

“Let me guess, those he’s trained are either handpicked from the academy or were assigned to him from Morrison,” I say as the wheels in my mind begin to chug along with his.

“Yes, very astute observation. As of now, he’s a wild card. I don’t know why he’s patrolling around this neighborhood. He wasn’t assigned the area during roll call this morning,” Simon says.

“I bet if you look even closer, Spider, personal cellular calls will be radiating in a triangle around this neighborhood,” I say to him. “They’re going to be staying off official radio dispatches for whatever it is they’re doing.”

“You’re correct,” Simon says over his rapid typing on his keyboard. “I’ll start pulling records and see who comes up.”

“It’ll be officers he’s trained, not anyone above him,” I say. “And how loose are the patrols? That’ll tell us how long we have until we need to evac out.”

“I’ll get the information over to you as soon as I have it,” Simon says.

“Do they know my current location or home? That’s going to be a deciding factor. Also, I need…” I trail off, trying to think of who I can get to do a very delicate job. “Johnathan to go to my house and get Mitzy for me. I need her and a bag of clothing.”


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