Page 81 of Sunrise

In all the years I’ve known this woman, she has never been drunk. She once told me she doesn’t like to be in any condition that could hinder her critical thinking skills. Her phone is on the counter, lighting up now and then with a notification. I plug it into the charger and turn it face down.

Tossing the cheese left on the floor into the trash, I wash the dishes and dump her empty wine bottle into the recycling bin. The bag of baby carrots goes back in the fridge. My heart breaks for her. Whatever happened at work must have been really fucked up if she’s this upset.

Looks like I’ll be committing murder number two soon, because nobody makes my girl cry and gets away with it.

Double checking to make sure all her doors and windows are locked, I pick up the knife she left on the floor when she first let us in. I know we might have scared her from how loud we banged on the doors, but answering with a deadly weapon is a little dramatic. It raises my suspicions even more.

Sophie never has us over, she keeps her houselocked up tighter than a prison, and she brought a blade to the door. That’s not precautious, it’s paranoid. There’s got to be a reason for it. I want to know what made her reach this level of fearfulness, because then I’ll commit murder numberthreewhen I find out who made her this way.

I drag my ass upstairs to her room. Sophie’s lightly snoring. Vault doesn’t say a word when I climb into bed with them. We’re both fully dressed and still have our shoes on.

“Someone stole her work,” he says quietly. “That’s… unconscionable.”

“Agreed.”

“She’s been working on this project for so long, I just can’t imagine it being stolen from her. They can’t get away with it.”

“They won’t,” I assure him. “We’ll handle it.”

“We can’t do shit about this, Knox. Her lab is unreachable to the public. And if she’s this torn up, then I bet they let her go.”

“You’re reaching, bro. There’s no way they’d fire her for no good reason. They’d have a lawsuit on their hands.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. We’ll have to push for more information when she’s sober and try to help her then.”

While I can’t solve this problem tonight, I can work on the other issue. Pulling my phone out and googlingMax Born Nobel Prize, I see the man Sophie thought I was talking about. He died in 1970. I should have known this wasn’t the same dude, but it was worth a shot. Defeat has me sighing as I rest my head back on the headboard. Duty, guilt, love, and anger pull me in different directions.

“Smoke is coming out of your ears,” Vault whispers.

“I can’t shake this bad feeling.” Placing my cell on the end table, I turn to him, loving that Sophie is between us. “Today was a weird one.”

“Murder confessions, best make-out session ever, creepy food critics, and a drunk Mistress. I’d say it was a well-rounded day, all things considered.”

Sophie stirs, causing us to freeze until she settles again. Her light snores are cute as hell. And the shirt she’s wearing has the biggest scoop neck, nearly letting one of her tits pop out. I carefully pull the neckline up to stop that from happening.

“This Max guy has you that shaken up, huh?”

“I kicked him out while he was still eating. Nothing about the man felt right to me.”

Vault’s eyebrows rise. “You serious?”

“Yeah.” I run my fingers up and down Sophie’s arm to soothe myself. “He pulled some strange power moves at first, but…” I tap my thumb against Sophie’s arm the same way that Max shithead did at my table.Thump-tha-thump. Thump-tha-thump.“He tapped the table like this. Isn’t that what the guy at the Monarch Club did with Sophie?” The more I tap, the more I feel like I’m falling down some rabbit hole.Thump-tha-thump. Thump-tha-thump.

Sophie suddenly shoots up, screaming.

I fall off the fucking bed, and she kicks Vault like a maniac. He yells, “Sophie, it’s us!”

Still screaming out of her mind, she grabs the lamp off the nightstand and slings it at him.

“Soph!” Vault turns on the main light and holds his hands up. “It’sus.”

She’s hyperventilating, eyes wide with terror, andpoised to attack. Crouched in the bed like a feral animal, her shirt exposes parts of her I don’t think she wants out.

“It’s us, baby,” he says again, daring to get closer.

“Oh my god.” She clutches her chest and calms down. “I’m so sorry.”

“No apologies.” I sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re all good, sweetheart.”

---