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They drive up in Weston’s car, quite fast I notice, but as soon as he parks, they don’t get out immediately. I start to worry, so I walk across the parking lot, and she finally opens the door.
“Hey!” I greet, coming over to hug her. Her face perks up, and when I pull back, I notice how heavy her eye makeup is. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, totally. We just lost track of time.” Something’s wrong.
Weston rounds the car and harshly grabs Sophie’s hand, pulling her away from me. “I need a beer. Let’s go.”
I turn around and look at Hunter with a scowl on my face.
That asshole has some nerve.
“Sorry, but I’m not a fan,” he murmurs to me as we follow them.
“Join the club.”
“He better watch it before he gets his ass handed to him,” Hunter says.
Once we’re back inside, I carefully watch Sophie and Weston. Mason and Liam eye him pretty hard as well, the guy not making any effort to be nice to anyone. Hell, he’s not even being nice to Sophie. She’s not acting like herself either, which scares the shit out of me. She’s timid and won’t make eye contact with anyone.
“I gotta run to the bathroom and change Alison. Wanna come with me, Soph?” I ask with a smirk, daring her boyfriend to stop her.
“Sure,” she says, and I motion for Maddie to come too.
Before leaving, I lean down to grab the diaper bag, then whisper in Hunter’s ear, “Watch him. I need time with Sophie.”
He flashes me a wink, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Weston would be an idiot to cross my man or, hell, any of the guys here. Mason and Liam especially.
I kiss his cheek, then walk out with my sisters following behind.
Once we’re in the ladies’ room, I lock the door behind us and grab Sophie’s arm so she turns toward me. “Please tell me you’re not trying to cover up a black eye, Soph. I swear to God, I will murder him.”
“It’s not what you think,” she protests weakly.
“Did he hit you?” Maddie asks, standing firm next to me.
“He really didn’t mean to. Guys, stop. Please,” she begs, her bottom lip trembling. The bastard has her so scared, and she’s defending him.
“Please explain then,” I say softly. I really want to hear how him hitting her in the eye was an accident.
“Weston was punching the wall, over and over again. I tried to stop him from hurting himself, stepped in front of him, and he accidentally decked me,” she explains, but I’m not buying it. “He didn’t mean to, and he felt really bad about it.”
Oh, as long as he feels bad about it. I internally roll my eyes.
“Why was he punching the wall?” Maddie asks.
Sophie looks down with a frown. “He lost his job a couple of days ago.”
“What? Why?” I ask.
“Showed up to work still drunk from the night before. Instead of just going home like his boss instructed, Weston started a fight and was told to not bothering coming back at all.”
“Was he drunk when he hit you?” I ask, deciding to actually check Alison’s diaper while we’re in here.
“Yeah, he’s been drinking for days.” Sophie’s shoulders slump.
“So why was he driving?” Maddie asks, handing me the wipes.
“Because he wouldn’t let me drive. That’s why it took us so long to get here. I was trying to stall, get him to sober up, or I threatened to leave without him. He got really mad, wouldn’t let me go, so I said I’d wait for him if he’d stop and drink some coffee,” Sophie says, looking at herself in the mirror. “It looks worse than it is.”
“You can’t honestly keep making excuses for him, Soph. He’s a drunk, and he’s hit and hurt you on more than one occasion,” I tell her firmly. “Please, leave him. I’m scared for you.”
She swallows as if she wants to be brave, but he’s sucked all of the confidence out of her. “I don’t have anywhere else to go,” she explains softly. “I don’t have money to get my own place, and I can’t go back to my old apartment. What am I supposed to do?”
“Stay with us,” I offer. “I’ll get an air mattress, and we’ll make it work while we find you somewhere else to live.”
“It’s not just that,” she mutters. “He won’t just let me break up with him and leave.”
“What?” Maddie snaps. “What does that mean?”
Sophie shrugs as if she’s embarrassed. I get Alison redressed and place her on my hip.
“I tried to break up with him a few weeks ago when he slammed me against the wall,” she admits, embarrassed. “He left more bruises on my already bruised arms so they’re really damn sore now. He told me if I left him, he’d kill me.”
“You need to go to the police,” I tell her. “You have physical evidence, Soph. Get a restraining order and start documenting it. Put his ass in jail.”
