Liam shuts the door behind them, and we stand in ear-piercing silence.
“This is fucked up,” he finally says. “Now I wish I’d shot him in the goddamn face.”
I snort, agreeing. “Yeah, but then you’d be going through the same shit I did to prove self-defense. At least this way, he can go to prison, and we can let the other inmates take care of him.”
Liam’s grin widens. “Fuckin’ right. In fact, maybe I’ll make a few phone calls.” He winks, which makes me chuckle. Liam knows too many people. He’s on a first-name basis with guards at the jail, and I’m pretty sure he sweet-talks the receptionists to get their numbers. Liam goes there when he has to check in an inmate, and I wouldn’t put it past him to know people at the prison either. He’s nothing if not resourceful.
“In case I forgot to say it, thanks for having my back, man.” I slap him on the shoulder, and he pulls me in for a hug. “You’re a good friend to have in my corner,” I say in a mocking tone. I know he doesn’t like mushy shit.
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” he says before walking back into the living room. I follow him, and he sits next to Sophie, pulling her into his arms. I know he was as worried about her as I was.
“I can’t say I wasn’t scared, Soph, but I held onto hope that you were staying strong,” Liam tells her. “I hope you know how much I love you. I would’ve killed him if I knew the backlash wouldn’t come back to bite me.”
Sophie nods, and tears fall down her cheeks. Liam is a different guy with her, and I appreciate how good of a friend he’s been to her all these years.
“Death would’ve been the easy way out,” she says, her words sounding stronger. “He can rot in prison for the rest of his life.”
“Damn straight,” Liam cheers with a proud smile.
“Lucky that you were home for once,” Sophie says when I come to sit on the other side of her.
“Well, I’m starting to think I can’t leave you two alone.”
I roll my eyes at his comeback. “How long have you had that gun anyway?” I ask.
“Long enough.” He winks. “I’m licensed and trained. Don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t,” I tell him honestly. I trust Liam with my life, literally.
Sophie pulls him in for another hug. “Thank you again, Hulk. I owe ya one.”
Liam chuckles at her nonchalant way of thanking him. I know joking or acting strong is how Sophie deals with emotional situations, but after what she already went through with Weston, I can only hope this incident hasn’t broken her for good.
Chapter Six
Sophie
The last time I stayed in bed like this was when I was sixteen and had a nasty flu virus. Everything ached, my stomach hurt, and my head pounded nonstop. It was the most miserable I’d felt in my entire life.
Until now.
Minus the throwing up, this is worse than the flu. My mind won’t turn off, and I can’t stop feeling like his hands are still on me. The way he intimately touched me haunts my thoughts as I think about his fingers on my chest and between my legs. The fucking sicko had the audacity to do whatever he pleased to my body, and no amount of washing feels clean enough.
Worst of all, my heart hurts.
The Monday after the incident, Mason was forced to go to work even though he wanted to stay home with me. I was still too beaten and bruised to go to rehearsals, so once again, I called Mr. Moody, my director, and explained the situation as vaguely as I could without breaking down on the phone. He told me to take as long as I needed and not to worry about anything. Truthfully, I’m so lucky he doesn’t kick my ass out, but I’ve been with the symphony for over three years, and I’m dependable. He’s also well aware of what happened with Weston and the abuse I endured.
The next evening, Officer Fisher called to confirm they found Dacia’s body in Dalton’s trunk, just as he’d said. I was happy Mason was with me when I learned the horrific news because I felt like I was having a nervous breakdown. The realization of what happened to her made me physically ill, but instead of vomiting, I cried uncontrollably. I suspected she was dead, but I held on to a tiny bit of hope that Dalton was lying. That he only said it to scare me and prove how powerful he was. Even though deep down, I knew he was probably telling the truth, I tried to be optimistic and hoped she was safe at home.
The thought that it could’ve been me haunts me every damn second as I mourn the loss of my friend. I’ve been harboring so much guilt about the fact she died because of me. She didn’t have to, and that bastard could’ve spared her life, but when you’re a heartless asshole, you don’t care about anyone or anything.