Survivor (First to Fight #2)(37)

“He attacked me that day when I came back from New Orleans.” Her head drops forward, her dark hair curtaining her face. Behind, I hear her sniffle and it makes me pull her closer.

“It wasn’t consensual?”

She shudders. “I tried to fight him, but he had a knife.”

Nausea is a greasy roll in my stomach, but I force myself to stay calm, even though my control is paper thin at best. “Start from the beginning.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it. I don’t even want to think about it.”

“You’ve pushed it down for so long, you need to talk. I’m just going to listen. I’m right here. Let it out.”

“I left the gym to go home and change. He must have let the air out of one of my tires because I had a flat when I came out and he offered to help me change it. I thought, you know, he’s your friend. I thought I was safe with him.”

“What did he do?”

She swallows audibly. “I went to pop the trunk for the spare and he came up behind me, dragged me to the back of the gym and through the back door.” She pauses and I rub her shoulders, down her arm. “There was a storage room down that hall, one that was full of old mats and equipment. He pushed me down on them and…”

“He raped you,” I say.

She nods into my throat. I sense there’s more to the story, but I don’t push her about it anymore, also sensing she’s had enough, more than enough. Her muscles twitch beneath my hands and she’s gone limp against my chest. “What made you come here today?”

“Jack, please, I don’t—”

“Last thing, baby, you can do it. Then we’ll take you home, get you cleaned up.”

Her fingers clutch at the thin jacket she’s wearing, tugging it more securely around her waist. “He’s here. In town.”

Fucking bastard. No wonder he looked so goddamned smug. My arms tighten around her slim body for a second, then I force them to relax. “Has he done something since you’ve been back? He’s been harassing you this whole time?”

“No,” she hurries to clarify, “no. He hasn’t bothered me since…since that night. I think he was in jail. He just wrote me…letters.”

I fill in the blanks. “That’s what you were so fired up to get from your mom’s. Letters he’d written?”

“He sent the first one the day after. I found it on my car when I…when I went back for it. The next time he gave it to Rafe, though he doesn’t remember that now, thank God. That’s when I knew I had to leave. I didn’t want him near my family, Jack. I didn’t want his ugliness to touch them, too. He found out where I lived in college, it freaked my roommates out so I had to move. He always knew where I was. I didn’t know what to do. When I came back every now and then to check in, see the boys or Livvie, I’d leave the letters at Mom’s because I wasn’t sure what else to do with them.”

“God, Sofie.” All this time. All this time and she’d been terrified of a man who I thought was my friend.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice almost nonexistent.

Forcing myself to keep my touch gentle and my voice level, I say, “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“I should have told you sooner. Should have gotten help.”

I tip up her chin and look into her watery eyes. “You did what you had to do. I don’t doubt that at all.”

There’s a moment there where she looks up at me and it’s like she wants me to kiss her and I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my life. But it’s not the right time, couldn’t make a worse time if I try, so I lift her to her feet.

“Let’s get you home,” I say.

“Jack, there’s more—” she starts, but I cut her off.

“Later. You’ve had enough for now.”

And I don’t know if I’m capable of handling more without hunting down the man himself and taking vengeance into my own hands.





Present



“WHAT’S GOING ON?” Rafe asks as he climbs into Jack’s truck. Jack had called their friend’s mom on the way from the gym to let them know we’d be by early to pick them up.

“We need to have a chat, is all. Donnie, why don’t you hop in? We’ll pick up a pizza before we go to your house.”

The boys eye him warily, frowning when they find me nearly in the fetal position in the front seat. Such a good impression to make on them. Good job, Sof. You’re a hell of a role model. Wait until the social workers hear about this.

Donnie surprises us all when he stands resolutely on the sidewalk, a frown pulling at his lips. “No. What’s going on with Sofie?” His eyes brush over my face and I glance away, not wanting him to see the bits of emotion remaining in my eyes. I must not do a good enough job because he nearly growls. “Did you make her cry again?”

We all look at him in shock.

“Did you?” he repeats.

“He didn’t make me cry.”

“Then why are your eyes all red again?” he asks.

“Well, okay, I was crying, but it doesn’t have to do with him.” Not really.

Donnie shoots Jack a furious glance. “All you do when he’s around is get upset.” He tugs his jacket more securely around his shoulders.