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“Well, get some rest and try to stay out of trouble for the next forty-eight hours, alright?” she teases. “No more excitement for a long while.”
“Trust me when I say I’ve had enough for a lifetime. Thanks for everything,” I tell her as I reach for the handle.
“You’re welcome. Call me if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk,” she says.
“I will.” I open the door and stand in the driveway. She waves, and I watch her car until the taillights fade in the distance. I pull my phone from my pocket and realize how late it is and how exhausted I am. I’m ready to hit my bed as soon as I see it.
When I walk into the house, I immediately notice how eerily quiet it is but can see a lump of a body on the couch. I take a few steps forward and hear Liam snoring, which means Sophie is in his bed. Though he can be a prick, he loves Sophie like a sister, and most likely refused to let her sleep on the couch, which makes me smile.
I climb the stairs and grab some clothes, then go to the shower. As the hot water streams over my body, I can’t stop thinking about the gun, then Sophie’s sweet face comes to mind, along with the makeup she used to cover the bruises that fucker left. While I hate that a life was lost today, I think Weston was capable of causing irreparable damage to Sophie, if he hasn’t already. The thought of his mental and physical abuse have me seeing red again, but it’s over, and all I can hope is she’ll be able to heal. Hopefully, Liam told her the details of today, but if she wants to know, I’ll explain it the best I can. My heart still aches for her and everything she’s been through. I wish she would’ve just listened, but I’m convinced he wouldn’t have let her go so easily.
The water runs cold, and I take that as my cue to get out. I grab a towel and dry off, then get dressed. Instead of going to my room, I go to Liam’s and crack open the door. Moonlight splashes across the floor, and I can hear her steady breathing.
My sweet Sophie, I think to myself, stepping inside and going toward her.
I hate to wake her, but after everything, I need to see her, even if it’s just to say I’m here for her.
And I always have been.
Chapter Fifteen
Sophie
“I think we should take a break, Weston. Until things settle down for you. Some time apart might do us good,” I say after he stumbled in drunk again. I can’t continue to live like this. He seems to love drinking more than he loves me.
“What the fuck did you just say?” His harsh tone echoes through the room. “Are you breaking up with me?”
I shake my head, his booming voice scaring the shit out of me. “No. Not at all, but…”
He takes two steps forward, running his fingers through my hair, then holding it tightly in his fist before slamming me against the wall with every bit of strength he has. A picture falls to the floor, and the glass shatters. The pain is excruciating, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“Weston, please,” I beg with tears in my eyes.
His strong hand wraps around my throat, and when I gasp for air, he adds more pressure. I try to stay calm, not wanting to panic because he seems to get off on my fear. I claw at his fingers, but it’s no use.
“If you ever leave me, I’ll fucking kill you. You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go. Ever. Only death will separate us. Got it, baby?”
I nod, unable to speak as he holds me hostage. With a disgusted expression, he finally releases me. He watches with zero emotion as my body slides down the wall. I tuck my head between my knees and cry. Is he really capable of killing me? Hell, he’s just proven he is.
A hand on my arm startles me awake, and I shriek into the darkness.
“Shh, shh, Soph. It’s me,” Mason says softly, clicking on the lamp on the nightstand beside the bed. I look around the room, uncertain of where I am until the day all comes flooding back. I’m in Liam’s room.
I wrap my arms around Mason’s neck, and the tears begin to rapidly fall. “I’m so sorry, Mason. I’m so sorry.”
It’s the only thing I can say. It’s the only thing I feel. Everything that happened tonight is my fault. I knew Weston was dangerous, but I never thought he’d have a gun.
Mason wraps his arms around me, and we stay in each other’s arms for a while. It’s comforting to have him hold me like this. He doesn’t need to say anything at all because our bodies speak for us. Either one of us could’ve been on the other side of that bullet, and I’m so damn thankful we weren’t. I’m so thankful for him.
