Page 116 of Safe Place

Then I look back at Janine. “And you? You’ll never contact Sophie again. Not a text. Not a voicemail. Not a letter. You won’t ask her for a single cent ever again. I’ll have you arrested if you do.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but I don’t let her. “I’ve got enough dirt to bury you. If I need more, I’ll plant it. Test me.”

I glance down at Mark, shaking and furious on the floor. “And you. If you so much as enter the same state as Sophie again, I’ll have you dragged back to prison and locked away for life. Run. Try me. I’ll find you.”

I take Sophie’s hand. “We’re done here.”

She’s still frozen and wide-eyed, but she nods. I guide her out, slam the door behind us, and don’t look back.

At the car, I open the door for her. She slides in silently, eyes dazed, body moving without her. I close it gently, circle around, and slide into the driver’s seat. I’m still buzzing with rage, but I keep my hands steady on the wheel.

We don’t say anything else. I shift the car into drive, and we pull away from that shitty motel—the stench, the shouting, the past she’s finally walking away from. That part of her life is over now.

She leans her head against the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest. I glance at her every few minutes. Her expression is unreadable, but she’s breathing. She’s here and she’s safe.

The drive is quiet. No music—just the sound of the road beneath us and the occasional clicks of the turn signal. I don’t even know where I’m going, only that I need to get her away.

Eventually, I pull into a small, empty restaurant parking lot a few miles out of town.

I put the car in park and cut the engine. The silence deepens.

She doesn’t move. She’s still looking out the window. I wait.

I turn to her, and the sight of her stings. Her cheek is red where Janine hit her. I reach over and brush my hand softly along her skin. “You okay?” I ask, my voice low.

She nods, but it’s quiet. “Yeah.” A pause. “Thank you.”

Then her eyes lift to mine. “What dirt do you have on her?”

“Nothing,” I admit. “I was bluffing. But I’d find something if I had to. So don’t worry.”

She nods again, looking out the window for a second again before turning back to me. “How did you know about my mom asking for money? Or the strip clubs? Were you bluffing about that too?”

I reach for her hand and hold it between both of mine. “No. I wasn’t.” I exhale slowly. “I was going to tell you eventually, but after I met you, there was just something in your eyes. I could tell you were carrying the weight of something. And I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I needed to understand—I was worried and wanted to help. So I looked into you. I think I just wanted to be someone who could protect you.” A beat. “But that wasn't my call to make either.” I pause, and she looks up at me. “Going behind your back like that, learning things about you that you hadn't chosen to tell me—that wasn't protecting you. That was just me deciding, again, that I knew better. But I didn't.” I exhale. “I won't do that again. Ever.”

It’s quiet.

“There's something else,” I say, before she can say anything.

She looks at me.

“I knew Mark was out. I knew he was in Massachusetts. Nico had a tracker set up. I found out he'd been spotted near your building.” I keep my voice even, but it costs me. “I was going to tell you. I kept almost telling you. But every time I got close, I thought about the panic attacks, how hard you'd worked to get to a place where you could breathe again, and I told myself I'd handle it before it ever got that far.” I pause. “I was so sure I could protect you. I had a plan. And then I had a goddamn exam, and I told myself you'd wait for me, that I'd be back early and we'd go together and it would be fine.”

I look down at our joined hands.

“But it wasn't fine. And that's on me. I'm sorry, Sophie. I'm so, so sorry.”

She's quiet for a moment. I don't fill it this time.

“You should have told me,” she says finally.

“I know.”

She exhales slowly. “I would have been scared,” she says. “But I would have been careful. I would have waited.”

“I know that too.” I press my thumb over her knuckles. “I was trying to protect you from being afraid. But I took something from you that wasn't mine to take—the choice.”

I don't say anything else. There's nothing left to say.