Dropping the bag on the other side of me, Andrew yanks it open and asks, “How much time do we have?”
I feel another sharp tug, this time coming from my shoulder.
“I believe Simon said twenty minutes, twenty minutes ago,” Lucifer says casually as inspects the second prong.
“I did,” Simon says from across the room. “The Russians could show up any second now.”
Looking in his direction, I see him just inside the open doorway, glancing down at his watch.
“Shit.” Andrew says then I feel his attention on me. “Maybe we should do this in the car.”
“That would probably be for the best,” Lucifer sighs and fists the prong before shoving it in his pocket. “We should move this show to the warehouse before we end up in a firefight or worse.”
James gives Trent another kick in the ribs. “Thank your fucking lucky stars you get to live for a few more minutes.” Then he grins a wicked grin. “We’ll play in the car, though.”
It finally dawns on me what they’re discussing as Lucifer stands from the bed and Andrew closes his bag.
“The Russians aren’t coming,” I force myself to say, each word extremely hoarse and painful.
Everyone seems to pause and look at me.
“What was that?” Lucifer asks, arching a brow with interest. “The Russians aren’t coming?”
I slowly nod my head.
Simon straightens away from the wall and stares hard at me through his glasses. “That doesn’t make any sense… Why wouldn’t they come?”
I open my mouth to try to explain everything I heard Dickers say, but it’s so much, so many damn words, I don’t even know where to begin.
My throat is fucking killing me.
“It’s okay, baby,” James says, his face darkening with anger as he watches me struggle with the pain. “You don’t have to explain.”
“The fuck she doesn’t!” Simon snaps. “I need to know why the Russians aren’t coming!”
James whirls around to face him, and I’ve never seen him look so angry…
Face contorted with rage, he looks a lot like Lucifer looked when I was on top of him—fucking terrifying.
“My wife is no position to answer your questions right now, Spider. And I suggest you back the fuck off before I answer them for you,” James warns.
Simon seems to shrink in a bit on himself at James’s warning before he realizes what he’s doing and straightens. Sighing, he shakes his head and reaches up to lift his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose.
Dropping his glasses back down, Simon looks at James. “I meant no disrespect. I just really need to fucking know why the Russians aren’t coming. What’s changed? Is someone else going to be coming down on us? These things are fucking important!”
“Gentlemen,” Lucifer cuts in smoothly. “I have an easy solution that will work for everyone.”
Once everyone’s attention is on Lucifer, he pulls out his phone and slides it open. After pulling up an app, he holds his phone out to me. “Sophia, do you think you can type in what you know so we can put everyone’s mind at ease?”
I glance at James and Simon, taking in their tense faces, then nod at Lucifer.
Lucifer smiles a pleased smile as I accept his phone from him.
When I just stare down at the blank screen, wondering where to begin, Lucifer’s voice softens and he says gently, “We don’t need to know everything, just the important bits.”
Taking a little breath to steel myself, I decide to begin by typing in the most important thing first.
The Russians aren’t coming because they want to kill them. The Russians blame them for what happened to Alexei.
“Interesting,” Lucifer drawls out, peering down at his phone, and I sense the other men moving in closer.
“What’s interesting?” Simon asks, as if his curiosity is killing him.
Lucifer snickers. “You’ll see.” Then he asks me, “Will any other backup be arriving?”
I almost shake my head before I remember I can just type in the answer.
No. All their backup was at James’s…
I quickly erase James’s and replace it with our house.
That’s why the wanted to kill me. They wanted to kill me so they could call it in and blame it on you guys.
“Fuckers,” Andrew grumbles beside me and I look up in surprise to see him peering over my shoulder at what I’m typing.
“I agree,” Lucifer says, his voice dropping to a near growl. “Is there anything else we need to know, Sophia?”
I think for a moment, remembering all the shit Dickers and Trent were shouting at each other.
Then my eyes seek out Jacob.
I see him sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall, with Uriel towering over him, aiming a gun at his head. Jacob doesn’t even sense my attention on him. No, he’s focused solely on his son, Trent.
Trent who is still squirming and wiggling around on the floor with two useless arms, crying and blubbering.
Tears streaming down his face, Jacob looks utterly broken and defeated. Like a man who is watching his entire world crumble to pieces.
I almost want to feel pity for him. Like… that’s my first instinct. To pity a person who is suffering and in pain.
I hate seeing others in pain, it’s always bothered me. For whatever reason, I can’t stand to see others hurting.
But Jacob had no pity for me when he was strangling the life out of me…
He even had the nerve to say my father would understand to make himself feel better about what he was doing.
My father was a good man. Yes, I know James said he worked with Lucifer, and I don’t doubt that he did. He probably used Lucifer to do what he couldn’t, just as James said.
And after everything I’ve heard today… everything that I’ve seen…
It only reinforces my belief that my father would never understand. Because he wouldn’t do want Jacob did. If the roles were reversed, if it was me in Trent’s place and my father in Jacob’s, my father wouldn’t try to kill Trent to protect me.
My father would turn me in for justice.
It would hurt him, yes, but he’d still do it. Because that would be the right fucking thing to do.
And now I have the chance to do right by him, and me.
Because I know… I fucking know deep in my heart somehow James will make this right.
Well, as right as he can.
Typing it in as fast as my fingers will move, I write out what went down with my father, Jacob, Dickers, and Trent.
I type out that Dickers and Trent were working with the Russians, but Jacob wasn’t. Jacob was just trying to cover up for Trent.
I end with: Dickers convinced Jacob to strangle me to death to save all their asses.
When I’m done, I thrust the phone out, holding it up for James before Lucifer and Andrew can finish reading.
Literally stepping on top of Trent to reach me, James accepts the phone, his eyes quickly scanning over my typing.
I watch his face, watch all the little changes, as he processes what he’s reading. Little changes I wouldn’t have noticed before but recognize now after our time together. At first there’s surprise in his expression, but then his jaw tightens. Clenching so hard I’m surprised I don’t hear his teeth cracking.