Complete Me(113)

“I don’t,” he agrees. There is silence. Then, “I’m worried about Sofia.”

I don’t understand the transition. “I know you are, but she’ll check in. If she’s playing roadie to a band in Shanghai, she’s probably not—”

“I’m afraid she’s running,” Damien says simply. “I’m afraid someone’s harassing her.” He strokes my cheek, his eyes burning into me.

“Oh, God,” I say with sudden understanding. “You think someone is trying to get to you through the women you love. Me. Sofia.”

“I think it’s possible.” He scrubs his hands over his face and through his hair. “I think a lot of things are possible. All I know for certain is that those goddamn photos were my salvation whether I like to think about them that way or not.”

“They were,” I agree.

“And I still don’t know who or why, which leads me to think that someone is playing with me. They’ll reveal themselves eventually, and when they do, they’re going to want something from me. Tit for tat.”

I want to argue with him, but what he says makes sense. I sit up and draw my knees to my chest. “But how does that tie in with Sofia being missing?”

Even in the dark, I can see the way his eyes cut away from me.

“Damien?” I press. “What aren’t you telling me?”

I hear him draw in a breath. “Richter abused her, too.” The words are flat, matter-of-fact, and they chill me to the bone.

“Oh.”

He continues without pausing. “If there are photos of me, there are undoubtedly photos of her. Someone delivered a set to me—through the court, but still to me. What if someone did the same to her?”

I tremble. I think of how the photos wrecked Damien, a man with so much strength it awes me. What would they do to this fragile girl? “But wouldn’t she call you? Aren’t you the one she’d turn to for help?”

“I don’t know. Sofia is many things, but predictable isn’t one of them. She once disappeared for six months. Turned out she screwed some guy who did time making fake passports, and since I haven’t been able to find any evidence that she left the UK under her own name, I can’t help but wonder if she’s hooked up with him again. She’s smart and she’s fearless. She’s lived on the streets, so if she feels like she needs to hide, she can disappear better than anyone. Most important, she’s f*cked up enough to happily fall off the grid.”

“I get that you love her, and I get that she’s not entirely stable, and I get that you’re worried. But, Damien,” I say gently, “she’s an adult. And no matter what your history, she’s not your responsibility.”

“Maybe not, but it feels like she is.”

I can’t help but nod in understanding. After all, Jamie’s not my responsibility, either. I sigh and stretch out beside Damien. He presses a kiss to my forehead, then links his fingers in mine. A moment later, he presses a button on a remote control.

The lights on the court wink out, and we are thrust into a darkness broken only by the gentle glow of a blanket of stars spread wide across the sky above us.





Chapter Nineteen

After Saturday’s drama, I want to bottle Sunday so that I can keep it close and pull it out whenever I need it. We spend the day doing everything and nothing. Even Damien turns off, abandoning his quest to find Sofia or my stalker or the bastard who leaked those photographs in favor of entering a purely vegetative state with Jamie and me.