by Gia Riley
His temper flares even more when he doesn’t like the answer Officer Anderson gives him. “I don’t give a damn where the papers are. They’re useless now. Blaine is out there roaming the streets torturing my daughter again. Focus on finding him. Not the papers!”
I’ve never seen my dad so livid. He’s never once yelled in front of me other than raising his voice at practice. Though that’s minor compared to the anger rolling off him now.
Officer Jones cuts back into the conversation. “Let’s get back to the investigation if that’s okay with everyone.” We all agree. “Sophie, can you tell us what happened once you were outside the building?”
I’m afraid of reliving the attack over again, but without a witness, I’m the only one with any answers. I brush my sweaty palms on the bedsheet. Kipton releases me long enough to do so, but grabs my hand again the second I finish. Closing my eyes, I take the deepest breath my screaming ribs allow. It doesn’t do much to calm me down, but I do it anyway. When I’m satisfied, I start talking.
“Blaine appeared out of thin air. One minute I was in line, and the next, his hand was over my mouth. I didn’t know it was even him until he spoke. I tried to scream, but it got lost in my throat.”
“God dammit,” Kipton growls.
His sudden outburst throws me off course. In my heart I know he shouldn’t be here for this, but if I ask him to leave, I’ll offend him. I desperately need separation between Kipton and Blaine. I never want those two worlds to weave their way around each other, so I take a risk. “Can I talk to Officer Jones alone, please?”
Kipton lifts my chin with his finger. “Beautiful, I’m not leaving you.”
“You’re so mad.”
“Not at you, Sophie. It’s just the more I hear, the more I want to fuck him up.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t hear any of this. I don’t want you to.”
“Sophie, you’re my girlfriend. I need to know what happened.”
“It’ll change things. I know it will.”
He shakes his head in disagreement. “Nothing you say will make me love you less. Absolutely nothing.”
“That’s what you say now.”
He leans closer to me so only I can hear his words. With his mouth close to my ear, he says, “Please, baby. I need to stay. I need to help you through this.”
I’m not trying to punish him by asking him to leave. The last thing I want to do is hurt him more than I already have. “Okay,” I whisper.
“Thank you.” He kisses my forehead, carefully avoiding my stitches.
We have an audience watching our every move, but I don’t care. This man has been my saving grace more times than I can count. So when I continue, I do so with a renewed confidence in my support system.
“Blaine told me to walk toward the emergency exit. I hoped once it opened it would trip an alarm, but nothing ever happened.”
“It’s a brand new building. Shouldn’t the camera and the alarm have worked?” Kipton questions.
“We’re making note of all these details,” Officer Anderson replies.
I continue through the sequence of events that left me lying on the ground. The more I relive the attack, the worse I feel. My stomach cramps with pain, and rolls with waves of nausea. Warm bile tries inching up my throat, so I lean my head against my pillow to calm down. But the urge continues to build until the electrodes on my chest sound a warning alarm on my monitor.
Within seconds, the nurse is by my side. She silences the machine which helps relax me slightly. “I need to ask everyone to step into the hallway,” she orders.
“What’s wrong, Sophie?” Kipton asks. But I can’t answer him. All I can do is concentrate on not throwing up. “Sophie?”
The nurse ushers everyone through the door. Kipton argues with her every step of the way. I just got done telling him he could stay, and now she’s kicking him out. But when the arguing stops as the door to my room closes, the nurse is back at my side with a plastic bin. I take it from her, unsure of how she was able to read my mind.
“It’s going to be painful, Sophie, but you’ll feel better once you let it out. Your pain medication is very hard on the stomach.”
I let her believe this has everything to do with my medicine and nothing to do with the overwhelming urge to get rid of every emotion swirling inside of me. I hold the bin close to my chin. Ever so slightly she raises the bed far enough so I don’t choke.
As the first wave racks my body, the pain builds in my chest, grinds through my throat, and passes through my lips. She stays by my side, helping me with the bucket when my hands start to shake.
I’m still struggling when Kipton barrels through the door. The nurse glares at him for not respecting her wishes, but there’s no use fighting him. She sets the used bin on the table, and hands me a clean one. Kipton takes it out of my hands and holds it for me.
“I’ll get you something for the nausea.”
He’s as unsure as I am if this was my own doing or if this was simply the result of the pain medication. Either way, I’m ashamed I wasn’t strong enough to fight it—even more ashamed he saw.
“I’m tired.” I’d rather sleep than address it. By the time I wake up, I hope it’s long forgotten.
“Close your eyes, Sophie. Everything else can wait.”
“Are they done asking me questions?”
“For now. They have what they need to find Blaine.”
As much as that should comfort me, it doesn’t. There may be security at the door, but Blaine has the power to find me in my dreams. And he always wins.
LAST NIGHT WAS THE SECOND night in a row Sophie woke up with a nightmare. I ended up moving from my chair into her bed when she couldn’t stop shaking. I’m convinced she wanted to run to the bathroom, but with me blocking her in her bed, she had no choice but to stay put—and it killed her.
From the moment she fell back to sleep, I’ve been playing out all the ways I can fuck up Blaine. My parents always said I had a vivid imagination, and now I believe them. He’s robbed Sophie of so much over the years, and now he’s invading my territory. Every bruise on her is a reminder of where he’s been.
“You’re staring again, Kipton.” Self-consciously, Sophie pulls her hair out of the ponytail and lets her hair fall around her face. She’s trying to hide the marks to make me more comfortable. “Can you hand me my brush, please.”
I open the drawer next to her bed and do as she asks. She takes it out of my hand, but before I let go of it, I look her straight in the eye. “What he did to you kills me, Sophie, but you don’t have to hide from me.”
She nods her head, but runs the brush though her long, blond hair anyway. “Is the make-up your mom brought me in the drawer? I’ll try to cover the bruises before we leave.”
“I just said you don’t have to hide.”
“I’m not hiding from you. It’s ugly to look at, and I don’t like when people stare. Plus it bothers you.”
“No, Sophie. What Blaine did to you bothers me—it fucking kills me. Not your face.”
“What if someone thinks you put them there?”
I hadn’t thought of that possibility, and I have no words for it either. So when I don’t answer her, she goes back to brushing her hair in silence.
I’ve been trying my best to keep her spirits up, but we’ve both become more and more agitated the longer Blaine’s on the run. Every time security changes outside her room we’re hopeful for good news considering he could be just about anywhere by now.
“Hello?” The door swings opens and Sophie’s dad walks in with a giant bouquet of fresh flowers. “I heard someone is getting discharged today!”
Sophie’s eyes widen in surprise when she sees the flowers. Her whole face lights up, and I wish I was the one who put that smile on her face. “There’s so many!”
He hands her the bouquet, and she sticks her nose in the middle of the bunch, inhaling as deeply as she can. Her ribs are still pretty sore despite the improvement she’s seen w
ith the rest of her body.
“How’s my beauty today?” He asks with a smile identical to hers. The more I get to know Coach, the more I notice their similarities.
“Better,” Sophie answers, as she gingerly wraps her arms around his neck for a hug.
“That’s good news.”
“I’m almost a free girl,” she says with pride. She’s struggling with the idea of being on her own again, but hiding it well in front of her dad. It would be a hell of a lot easier to take her home if Blaine was off the streets.
“That’s my girl,” Coach says with an equal amount of excitement. He sits in the rocking chair next to the window and rests his head against the back. He looks like he’s been up all night with his wrinkled clothing and constant yawning.
Sophie tilts her head to the side, eyeing him suspiciously. “Are you okay? You look drained.”
“I had a long night, but I’m fine. Nothing a nap won’t fix.”
“Why was it a long night?”
“It’s nothing. Let’s focus on getting you home today. Any word on when they plan on releasing you?”
“Whenever the doctor gets here. What aren’t you telling me, Dad?”
“It’s nothing, Sophie,” he tells her for a second time as he closes his eyes and rocks back and forth in the chair.
She shakes her head in frustration, but he can’t see it, so she speaks up. “Tell me, I can handle it.”
Coach opens his eyes, looking to me for reassurance. He has defeat written all over his face. I don’t know if Sophie will ever be ready to hear what he’s about to say, but I nod my head anyway, giving him silent permission to tell Sophie the truth. I just hope she’s able to handle it. It sure as hell shocked the shit out of me when I found out.
“Have a seat.” He motions for her to sit down on the bed in front of him. All of the earlier happiness is sucked out of the room.
“Is it that bad?”
“Dean was brought in last night.”
“Okay. How does that affect you?”
“Your mom called me last night. She was alone with him—and scared.”
“I don’t get it. How did you have time to drive the six hours both ways when you were with me until dinnertime? It’s not possible.”
He reaches out for her hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth over her knuckles. “Sophie, Dean isn’t in Ashland anymore. He’s been here in town receiving care at the cancer center. Last night he was in a lot of pain and having trouble breathing. They transferred him here to stabilize him.”
She pulls her hand away from her dad and stands up. “Dean’s in this building? Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Is my Mom here?” She walks over to the window and places her hands on the glass.
Sitting in the middle of this, I feel like a spectator. At first I didn’t want her to know Dean was even here, but after talking with her dad, I knew he couldn’t keep it from her. She wanted to know when Dean’s health was failing, and it definitely is.
“She’s in town. Ashland is so small, Sophie. They don’t have this kind of facility for patients.”
“I know,” she mumbles. “I had no idea he was that bad. You should have told me they were here.”
Coach nods his head. “You’re absolutely right.”
She looks over her shoulder when he agrees with her. “Everyone’s always trying to protect me, but I can handle more than you think. I’ve been doing it for years.”
I move to Sophie’s side, brushing her hair off her shoulder so it flows down her back. “You’re the strongest person I know, beautiful. We were planning on telling you, but you became our priority.”
She scrunches up her face in confusion. “You knew about this?”
I can’t lie to her. “Your dad told me two days ago.”
Her hands go straight to her hips as she narrows her eyes. She’s pissed. “And nobody thought to tell me until I’m about to walk out of here? I could have passed my mom in the hallway!”
“I know.” She may not like my answer, but she can be mad all she wants. “The only thing I gave a shit about was you, Sophie. Dean has never been a positive part of your life. There was no way I was dropping this bomb on you while you were in the hospital.”
“I could have handled it. I don’t want to be treated like I’m broken.”
“It’s not about being broken, Sophie. It’s about doing what’s best for you.” I pause because she looks like she’s going to burst, but when she doesn’t, I continue with a softer approach. “Baby, I won’t apologize for being protective. We wouldn’t be here at all if I had done a better job of it in the first place.”
Slowly, she blinks her eyes, her head dipping forward in defeat. She needs to realize it’s not about winning or losing. There are no winners in this situation. Blaine is still on the loose, Dean is in the hospital, her mom is around somewhere, and she’s recovering from an attack. Right now, everyone is in a pretty shitty place.
I assume she’s still pissed off when she stays silent instead of yelling at us some more, which is why I’m caught off guard when she raises her head and her chin starts to quiver. “Is he?” she asks.
“Is he?”
Thankfully Coach understands her cryptic question. “He’s still alive, but this is the end, beauty.”
She covers her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking just enough to know she’s crying. This isn’t the reaction I was expecting from her, but with all she’s been through with Dean, I can’t blame her for breaking down.
She’s torn.
Slowly, she raises her head again. Tears linger on her cheeks, but new ones aren’t falling. “I need to see him before we leave.”
Like hell she does. Before I can tell her exactly that, the doctor barges into the room humming some random tune. I’m glad someone is having a cheerful day around here.
“Sophie, are you ready to see the outside world again? How are the ribs today?”
She ignores his first question, focusing on his second. She’s no more ready to be in the real world than I am to let her out of my sight. “My ribs are better. Sore, but not as intense.”
“Lets take a look.”
My blood boils when the doctor pushes her gown aside. I haven’t gotten a look at her skin since she was brought in. The angry black coloring of the bruises has changed to a mixture of purple, yellow, and green. It’s like a messy finger-painting all down her side. It takes every ounce of restraint I have not to pick up the chair I’m standing next to and throw it through the window.
“What?” She mouths silently as the doctor finishes his exam. He moves to the end of the bed, scribbling on his prescription pad. She doesn’t like how tired the pain pills make her, but without them, she’s still in too much discomfort.
“Nothing.”
Sophie rolls her eyes and turns her head away from me. Nothing of what I want to say should be said in front of her father or doctor.
“Sophie, your discharge papers are on the way. The nurse will go over the instructions with you.”
“Okay.”
“Thank you, doctor.” Sophie’s dad reaches for the doctor’s hand, giving it a firm shake. “I’ll see she has everything she needs.”
He excuses himself from the room leaving the three of us with our new problem—Dean. Coach starts gathering Sophie’s belongings, loading them in his arms. “I’m going to pull the car around to one of the spaces in front of the building, I’ll be back to grab the rest.”
“Take your time, Coach.” Once he leaves, I help Sophie slip on a pair of sweats under her gown. I untie the strings holding it together, and slide it off her body. The bruises glare at me again, but I do my best to ignore them.
I continue to help her dress in stifling silence. She accepts my help, but never looks me in the eye. “What’s wrong?” I’m pretty sure there’s a slew of things she wants to yell at me about.
But she responds with the one word men dread. A simple, “Nothing.”
“Come
on, beautiful. Give me your worst. I saw you roll your eyes at me.”
She exhales, shrugging her shoulders. “I am mad about you keeping stuff from me, but you looked at me like you were angry when the doctor was looking at my injuries. Like the bruises were my fault.”
“What? Baby, nothing of what I was feeling had anything to do with you. None of this is your fault. You know that, I’ve told you over and over. If anyone is at fault, it’s me.”
“That’s not true either, but I could tell it bothered you to look at me.”
“Your body is still the sexiest I’ve ever seen. Bruises won’t change that.”
“That’s not how it felt.”
“What you saw was the anger I have inside of me because of how they got there. I’m not perfect, Sophie. I don’t expect you to be either. It will take time for you to get better, but we’ll get there together, okay?”
“Yeah.” She stands up, shuffling to the waiting wheelchair. “I feel like a grandma in this thing.” Walking is easier for her than it was two days ago, but there’s no way she’ll make it all the way to the parking lot without it.
I wait for her to sit down before crouching in front of her. “I love you.”
She rests her elbow on the arm rest of the wheelchair. “I don’t know why you stay, Kipton, but I love you, too.”
How can she even question that? “Because you’re mine.” I lean forward, placing a kiss on her lips. She returns it, and for the first time in almost three weeks, she feels like home.
Deepening the kiss, she reaches around to the back of my neck, holding onto me tightly. I don’t rush her, letting her take what she needs from me. “I’ve missed you so much. None of this was supposed to happen.”
“I know, baby. I’m sorry. We have a lifetime of weekends to spend together. We’ll make up for this one.”
She sighs, “I just want to be with you.”
Coach interrupts us when he comes back into the room. “You both ready to bust out of this place?”
“I know I am.”
“No. Not yet,” Sophie answers. Her eyes are on the door, but it seems she hasn’t changed her mind about Dean.
