To get back the five years of my life I just lost seeing her out here? For Sofia to get back in the damn closet where she’s somewhat safe?
But she’s here. Looking at me with that stubborn tilt to her chin. Wordlessly demanding I let her be a part of the team. So I swallow back the things I’m definitely going to scold her for later, like,What part of stay in the closet until I come for you,she didn’t understand, and say, “Call Knight. Tell him to get everyone over here. Now.”
She reaches beneath her waistband to pull out my phone. “What about the police?”
“No.” My jaw clenches. “We’ll call them after. First, I’m going to interrogate these men myself.”
Sofia stares at me for a second. Then she nods. “Okay, Nico.” She pauses. “Are you okay? Did any of them hurt you?”
“No.” I cup her cheek. “I’m fine. Now, call Knight while I get these pieces of shit tied up.”
Thanks to the healthy stockpile of zip ties I always keep on hand—one of my trainers in the Operator Training Course suggested it, explaining the multitude of possible uses—I have all three intruders fully restrained in a matter of minutes. Then I drag them to the center of the living room, yank off their masks, and start rummaging through their pockets.
Just as I’m pulling a phone and a small switchblade from one of their pockets, Sofia comes up beside me. “Do you need help?” she asks. “I could go through?—”
“No!” It’s almost a shout. But, shit, I don’t want her close to them, let alone sticking her hand in their damn pockets. “No,” I repeat more gently, “I’m fine. Can you just stand over there by the couch?”
She frowns, but does what I ask. “Knight is on the way,” she says. My phone chimes in her hand. Scanning the incoming text,she reads, “Wraith, Houdini, and Jester are en route. They’ll be here in under ten minutes.”
“Good.” I finish searching the last of the men’s pockets and drop the collection of wallets, phones, and assorted weapons on the coffee table. “If you’d like,” I offer, “you could look through their wallets. See if they have any ID.”
Sofia nods quickly. “Okay. I can do that.”
I don’t miss how her hand shakes as she reaches for the first one. Or, as she flicks on the lamp on the side table to look more closely, how pale she is.
Guilt crashes into me. I don’t know how, but this has to be tied to me. A last-ditch attempt by my father to silence her, an act of revenge…
Fuck. I hate him.
One of the men—the one I took out first, flops over and blinks dazedly at me. He’s hogtied within an inch of his life, so he can’t do more than wriggle around. “Wha—” He blinks again. “What happened?”
I move to his side. Glowering at him, I snap, “You broke into the wrong fucking person’s place, is what happened.”
“What—” He turns his head back and forth, his eyes going huge when he realizes both his accomplices are tied up, too. “How did you?—”
“I wasn’t just in the military,” I reply. “I was Delta. Do you know what that means?”
He sucks in a breath. “Fuck.”
“So you do, then.”
“Listen.” He gives me a pleading look. “It was his idea.” He angles his chin at the man I took down second. “I thought it was just a burglary?—”
“Fuck that,” the second man snarls, apparently now awake again. “Don’t fucking lie, Gio. You knew?—”
“No, I didn’t.” Gio shoots an angry look at the second man before adding, “Dave did! He and Benito planned it all!”
“What thefuck, Gio?” Dave barks. “Don’t use my name. Or his. What the?—”
“You used mine,” Gio retorts. “So don’t go throwing rocks at plastic houses or whatever that saying is.”
“It’s glass houses,” Sofia interjects. She glares at Gio. “It’s,People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.” To me, she adds, “They all have their IDs on them. That one is Gio Bianchi. That one”—she looks at Dave—“is David Newman. And the one still unconscious is Benito Ricci.”
“Thanks.” I lean down so I’m right in Gio’s face. I’ve already determined he’s the weak link, and I’m going to take advantage of it. “So, Mr. Bianchi. You’re the lucky one. Want to know why?”
He gulps. “Why?”
“Becauseyouget to determine whether you and your friends live or die.”
