Page 108 of Safe Place

She's there.

“Soph—“ The word dies in my throat.

She’s breathless, coat sliding off, hair a mess, eyes wide and glassy. Her left cheek is flushed and swollen—red like someone hit her.

There’s fear in her eyes—no, not fear. Terror—raw terror.

My heart drops. My blood runs hot.

She doesn’t say a word. Just runs straight into me.

I catch her, hard. Arms locking around her instinctively, already knowing she’s about to fall apart.

She’s trembling, sobbing, clutching my shirt like she’s trying to anchor herself. She’s crying so hard it feels like she might shatter in my arms. And it guts me.

I know her. I know exactly how she thinks. And I still left her alone. I should have skipped the exam.

I vowed I’d protect her. Promised she’d never face another monster again. But I failed. Fuck.

I tighten my hold on her. Press my lips to her temple and breathe deep, slow, trying to get her to follow. “I’m here, Sophie,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry, Soph. I’m so, so sorry.”

My thoughts are already spiraling, already turning lethal. I don’t care what it takes—I won’t let that bastard near her again.

This is the last time she ever has to feel this way. The last time she has a panic attack because of him. I’ll make sure of it—for real this time. Whatever it takes.

She’s still trembling in my arms, but her breathing has started to slow—just barely. I keep holding her, gently rocking us back and forth, my hand tracing slow, steady lines along her spine like I can draw the panic out of her body. I breathe deep and even, hoping she’ll follow.

Once I feel her body loosen just a little, I pull back enough to see her face. Her eyes are still glassy, lashes wet. But she’s here. With me.

She swallows hard. “He…he was in my apartment.”

The words land like a punch to the gut. My jaw clenches so tight it aches. Fucking bastard.

I lift a hand to her cheek—the one that’s still red and slightly swollen—and touch it as gently as I can. “And he did this to you?”

Her breath hitches. Her eyes fill again. And then she nods.

“I’m so sorry, Sophie,” is all I can say.

Tears spill down her cheeks, and her voice cracks. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. It’s not the first time. He…he’s done worse before.”

My heart splits clean down the middle. No one should ever say something like that. Especially not her.

I brush my thumb over her cheek, jaw locked from how hard I’m trying to stay composed.

“He was at my apartment when I ran away, but I don’t know if he’s still there.” She wipes her face. “But he gave me a motel keycard the other day. I didn’t take it, but I saw it. Silver Pine Inn. His parole terms should include no alcohol, I think—because of the DUI that got him arrested. But he reeked of alcohol today.”

“Okay,” I say, nodding once, already piecing together my next move. “Come on.”

I help her up and lead her to the bedroom. She’s moving slowly, still in shock. I guide her to sit on the edge of the bed and kneel in front of her.

“I’m going to go to your apartment,” I say gently. “I’ll grab your stuff. Stay here. No one can get to you here.”

But before I can move, her hand reaches out and grabs my forearm—tight, trembling, desperate.

“Please don’t leave me, Micah,” she whispers, her voice barely holding together. “Please.”

That’s it. That’s all it takes.