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“I hit my head. I’m sleepy.”
“Sophia, open your eyes. I’m going to get you to the hospital.”
“But Carla.”
“Stop talking about her.” Damon pulled apart my eyelids, and I wanted to swat his hand away, but I had no energy. “She’s not going anywhere.”
“Is she dead?”
“No, she’s not—Sophia, stay awake. The paramedics are almost here.”
Why couldn’t I move my body? Man, everything hurt. Damn, I was tired.
“I’m taking a nap.” I leaned into Damon as his arms came around me. “We can talk later. You like to talk too much.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying. Dammit, your head is bleeding. This is my fault. It was my job to keep you safe.”
I was safe. What was he talking about?
Once I had a nap, everything would be just fine.
“Sophia, stay with me. You have to stay with me. Don’t you fucking leave me.”
Chapter Eighteen
Damon
“Stop giving me those looks. It’s creeping me out.” Sophia glared at me from the passenger seat of my car.
Tonight was Sophia's first evening out since her incident with the makeup artist, Carla Justine, which left her with a hospital stay and three weeks of recovery at home from a severe concussion. She was damn lucky that she hadn’t experienced a brain bleed, considering the amount of equipment that fell on her from atop the cabinets.
“I want to make sure you’re one hundred percent.”
“Stop worrying. The doctors said three weeks of rest, and I gave you six for your peace of mind. It’s time to believe me when I say I’m fine.”
I focused back on the road, not wanting to truly remember how battered she’d looked in our bed that I’d been afraid to touch her.
I wanted to destroy Carla Justine for the pain she caused Sophia, but Sophia wanted me to let it go. In her eyes, Carla was another of Keith’s victims and needed a second chance at life. And since she agreed to cooperate with an investigation against Randolph Senior and his alleged illegal activities, I could put my need for retribution aside for now.
In the end, Carla luring Sophia to the workshop and revealing the binder with the schedules provided enough evidence for the investigators to clear Sophia’s name and shift their focus to Henrietta Stanford.
No matter how much the DA or his judge pal wanted to continue the case against Sophia, they had no choice but to drop it when all signs pointed to Henrietta as the murderer. Credit card history showed a history of plant purchases used for softening textile fibers produced by indigenous tribes in South America, which also has a history of utilization as poison in tribal warfare.
I turned into the Violent Delights parking lot and pulled into my spot.
“Are you sure you still want to do this with me?”
She shifted to face me, a look in her dark gaze that had my cock twitching.
“Ask me that again, and I’ll say no.”
“Sophia.”
“Damon.”
“Give me a straight answer.”
“You told me I chose you, and now I have to live with the consequences. Has that edict changed all of a sudden?”
