I take a step forward, my feet working again. “Who the fuck am I, Casper?”
He puts his hand up. “You need to calm the heck down.” He turns back towards Sophie. “Do you want me to stay with you, baby girl?” he asks her.
She shakes her head and glances back and forth between us. When she speaks, it comes out scratchy. “No. Please, just get him gone before Nate or Flick see.”
A firm hand lands on my shoulder, and I ball my fist, about to swing.
“Too late. Anyone care to explain?” Nate asks as he examines the scene.
Ryan nods his head to Simon, who reluctantly leaves Sophie’s side, and together, they grab the prick up under his armpits, dragging him to his feet.
“Go around the side of the house. It’s less likely you’ll bump into anyone,” Nate says before fixing his gaze on me.
I hold my palms up. “I’m sorry it happened here, man, but he had his hands on her,” I say, dropping them back against my thighs with a thump.
I haven’t fought like that since school, but even then, I hadn’t felt like it was someone else in control. Hell, I own a bar, but I always manage to keep my cool. I had some anger issues for a couple of years at school and would get into a scrap or two. Nate always had my back. I tug my hands through my hair, a buzz rippling through my body as I pace back and forth.
“Then the fucker got less than he deserved,” he says to me.
His eyes roam over to Sophie, followed by his feet. Approaching her cautiously, he stands in front of her and dips down. “Are you okay?” he asks.
She doesn’t say anything. Gently, he tilts her face up to meet his eyes. “Soph?” he asks again.
Dropping an arm to her side, she blinks back up at him and takes in a deep breath.
“I’m fine,” she croaks.
She sure as hell doesn’t seem like she’s okay. He pulls her into his arms, but she doesn’t move. He kisses the top of her head before letting her go, eyeing her sceptically. “I need to head back before Flick notices I’m gone. You two go get yourselves cleaned up.”
She nods with a strained smile. Walking past, he whispers, “Look after her.”
I say nothing but keep my eyes trained on her when she finally peers up. She shakes her head. I don’t know what it means, but I step closer and gesture with my hand towards the house before clenching it and stuffing it in my pocket.
She’s a few steps ahead of me, her head bowed to her chest.
The static charge in the air, accompanied by the pulse thumping in my ears and our footsteps are the only sounds I register as we make our way through the back of the house and into the kitchen.
Sophie slumps onto a stall, tears silently rolling down her cheeks, her breathing hard as she hugs herself. My chest tightens, throat thickens. I bend down, kneeling in front of her.
“I’m so sorry, Sophie.” I cup her cheek and rub her arm when she hisses through her teeth.
I take her arm between my hands to examine it. It’s already beginning to bruise. “That, mother fucker!” I grind my jaw.
I let go of her arm, carefully, and study her face. Her mascara is smudged under her eyes, so I wipe my thumbs over the stains. She has a cut above her left eye. I reach in my pocket for my hankie and bring it up to wipe away the blood that’s already drying. Leaning past her, I run the tap over the corner of the soft fabric, then dab it over her cut, cleaning it as best I can.
If I’d just kept my cool, he might have let her go. I cringe. Instead, I had to go and lose my shit. The guilt is palpable. I step away and grab the back of my neck, hanging my head in shame. “It’s my fault you got hurt,” I say.
She stands and approaches me slowly. “No, it wasn’t. I should have remembered to un-invite him,” she says like it’s the most logical explanation. But her teeth begin to chatter just a little, and I see the tremble of her limbs. I turn to the freezer and search the bottom drawer to find the bottle of vodka I know Nate stashed here. Finding two mugs, I pour us each a shot.
“Here,” I say and pass her one.
We both down it without a word. She coughs, pats her chest, her eyes watering. I manage to hold back a cough, the liquid burn welcomed. I’m rolling the mug between my palms when she reaches out and takes it from me. She turns my hands over, appraising the gashes to my knuckles, her own hands trembling.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“What? Don’t be ridiculous,” I say, incredulous.
“I shouldn’t have tried reasoning with him while he was half-cut. He has a vicious tongue when he’s been on a bender.”
I pull my hands free and pour another shot.
“I’ll remember that for the next time,” she says just as I swallow the shot.
Next time. I slam the mug down, the liquid catching in my throat.
“Too soon,” she gests, putting up a false bravado.
“Fucking hell, Sophie. It isn’t a goddamn joke. He verbally abused you for Christ’s sake. He had hold of your arm.”
I turn away from her, my body vibrating with tension, and reach for the tap. The sting is welcome as I wash away the dried blood from my hands.
Her palm rests on my back, and I draw in a deep breath. My hands are hanging over the edge of the sink, I shake them off and reach for the kitchen roll to dry them before I turn back to face her.
“You might need ice for your face,” I say nodding to her eye.
Shaking her head, she says, “I’ve had worse. I’ll worry about it later.”
My stomach lurches from her admission. The vodka is straining to work its way back up. I swallow hard and turn back to soak the hankie, ringing out the excess water.
She leans against the worktop. When I hold the hankie over her eye again, she flinches.
“Please tell me whatever you had with that numb nut, is now over.”
Rolling her eyes, she nods once.
“I know we joke about the dickheads you date, but he has to be the worst. You deserve better, Sophie, why can’t you see that?”
Her hand rests against my chest, and there is no way she can’t feel my heart racing.
“I can. Why do you think I stopped seeing him? But believe it or not, he wasn’t that bad at first—”
I grab her hand. “What do you mean, at first? Please tell me this was a one-off, Sophie.”
She can’t look at me now as she debates her next words. “I don’t want to lie to you, Charlie, so I’m choosing not to answer that right now.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I should have punched his fucking teeth out, too.”
“Listen, Charlie. I appreciate the big brother thing both you and Nate have going on, I do. But it was never my intention to drag you into my already messed-up life.”
“That’s not what that was back there, and you know it,” I reply.
I’m not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the adrenaline wearing off, but I just wasn’t prepared to lie—not about this, not now. We banter about the girls I sleep with and the same with the pricks she dates. If she only knew I haven’t been with anyone in months. I could lie to myself and say I had a dry spell, but the truth is, Sophie is always at the forefront of my mind. And maybe it’s time I did something about it.
I untuck the hair from behind her ear and let it fall over her eyebrow. As much as I would prefer to tuck it back, so I can see her whole face, I’d put money on it she wouldn’t want Flick to notice her injuries.