She always made him feel anxious when she was like this, so many scenarios running through his
head of what could happen to her, and his inner body twisting the tango of uptight anxiety. Sophie was
naive at the best of times, but drunk, she was completely oblivious to danger, considering her past, and
seemed to have a knack for attracting it.
“I’m sorry … Arry?” She started to sob, and he just felt worse. He hadn’t even yelled at her this time, so
he had no idea why she was crying. He had stopped yelling at her months ago when he realized it no
longer had any effect on her behavior, and he hated Sophie crying; it made him feel like a shitty human
being when those hurt doe eyes hit him, right in the stomach.
He had seen enough of her tears over the years in connection to what her sick perverted father had
done to her and that’s all he saw now. That vulnerable broken face, racked with scars and pain from a
childhood that could have destroyed her. Arrick stiffened as that stab of rage spiked inside like a fiery
hot spear.
Whenever he thought of that asshole he wanted to kill him; the fact he could take someone as innocent
and sweet as her and ruthlessly abuse her for years made him want to rip the guy’s spine out and ram
it down his throat. He was fiercely protective of her, knowing everything he knew, being there for every
therapy appointment and tearful outpouring when she needed to talk.
Sophie had let him in in ways that no one else had been allowed, and the depth of her dark
confessions ripped his soul out repeatedly, at the misery she endured. Listening to it almost ended him,
so he had no idea how she ever endured it and stayed sane. He vowed long ago that he would always
protect her, that he would destroy any guy who dared to ever lay hands on her against her will again,
and it was an oath he would uphold for an eternity.
Sophie was his warrior! Despite all of it, she had risen through the memories like an invincible flame,
and she had blossomed despite that asshole. He had never known anyone as strong as her; pride
washing through him at her achievement as he thought of how much she overcame in a bid to move
on. Arrick inhaled heavily, calming his outward persona as affection for her reigned supreme.
“Come on, Sophs. Don’t. You know I can’t handle it when you cry. I’ll be there in twenty minutes or less.
Go, be a good girl and get back in the club for me.” He could make out the noise of the street around
her and the tell-tale shake of her voice that she was shivering. Frowning hard again, at something else
she was doing to herself with zero care for her own wellbeing-, and it just angered him crazily. She had
probably come out without a jacket again, wearing something way too short and skimpy, and not giving
a crap that it was late in the season and exposure was something that could kill her.
The girl needed constant supervision. Her love of current fashion irritated him when trends were all
skimp and skin. Right now, women were wearing less and less, and he hated that Sophie followed the
trend of leaving little to the imagination. She was a complete fashion addict; clothes were her life, even
when they were barely scraps of fabric on her.
She had a body that attracted eyes, long legs, and a perfect petite frame with curves that even
someone like him couldn’t ignore. She was growing up way too fast and seemed to hit puberty from the
second he met her. No matter how hard he had tried to not see the changes and ignore how much she
was becoming a head turner, he had to admit, Sophie was irresistible to most men. He could only
imagine how many sleazy perverts had been scoping her out already.
“Okay … I’ll be at the back, in the booths lying down.” She sniffed some more, gaining control again,
and he cursed internally, frustration biting hard and stilling him from snapping. Biting down to curb the
urge to yell at her as anger bristled.
“Don’t lie down near the back, stay up front.” He ground out through gritted teeth, fighting to sound
normal and cool. He knew only too well what kind of men preyed on young girls like her in the shadows
at the back of Randy’s club. It was a place he used to frequent with Jake, his older brother, a long time
ago, and had completely gone downhill in recent years with the clientele becoming seedier. The crew
Sophie hung around with seemed to favor it, despite both Arrick and Jake telling her repeatedly to steer
clear, and it only made him flatten metal to the floor in a bid to get there faster, his pulse quickening. He
didn’t care if he got a ticket; he couldn’t stand the thought of her passing out in a dark corner of a club
that was notorious for women being assaulted.
“I’m tired, I need to lie down.” She slurred again, all tears gone, and he could recognize the noise of the
club approaching as though she was walking back inside. Arrick’s panic rose in his throat at her
complete lack of any sense in this, heart hammering and dodging cars on the road as he drove a little
erratically.
“You can sleep in my car, Sophie. I’m warning you. Stay out near the front where I can find you, and on
your feet. I’m almost halfway. Do not lie down!” He was stern; his tone less controlled and huskier at
the thought of anything happening to her, praying to God she listened tonight. Trying to keep his
temper because he knew she could be a boiling pot of childishness like this, and the last thing he
needed was her telling him to fuck off and disappearing on him. She had a habit of up and running
when she couldn’t deal with something, and it had spurred her to leave home months ago.
Sophie sighed dramatically and then was obscured by the sudden thumping noise of the music
surrounding her before it was disconnected. The club had an awful signal inside and he had just lost
her as she went back to the dance floor.
Shit.
Arrick flinched with the cold pulse that ran through him, anxiety, and fear colliding with every worst-case
scenario in his head. He tried her cell again quickly, but got nothing but her answer machine, cursing
out loud this time.
He would lecture her when he got there, shake the shit out of her. No doubt he’d have to carry her out
like last weekend and this time he was sitting her down for a serious heart-to-heart. He was done with
whatever this was. Done with the drunken calls, putting herself in constant danger, the argumentative
stroppy behavior and difficult attitude of late. He understood that her past sometimes meant she was
hard to handle, even at her best she had always been hard to handle, but this lately was beyond a joke.
His nerves couldn’t take much more of this and his relationship with Natasha was falling to pieces
because of it.
Tonight, she was coming home with him and sobering up to get the third degree. Enough was enough,
and if anyone could get through to her and convince her to go home to her family, then it was him. He
had been avoiding this conflict for too long and he couldn’t avoid it anymore; that stubborn mindset
hitting him hard that he wasn’t going to keep going through this anxiety over her safety anymore. The
agony.
She had up and left home a few months before, after a heated fight concerning her drunken lifestyle;
another night he scraped her off a sidewalk and taken her back from the city to the Hamptons. Her
family had lost all control by then, and Arrick had been the only one left she still clung to in any way. He
had been treating her with kid gloves ever since, in fear she would cut him loose too, and that had been
his biggest mistake. He had listened to Natasha over his own gut; he should have trusted that he had
always known how to handle Sophie and not gone for the softly, softly approach at her bidding.
Natasha only knew the bare facts and nothing more, she only saw Sophie as a broken child and had
convinced him to go against his own reasoning in every way. Arrick should never have listened, he
knew her better than anyone. She needed his stern side back.
Sophie needed real help and understanding, someone to reel her in a little before she got herself into a
situation that only ended badly. Arrick knew, that despite Natasha’s feelings on the matter, that the only
person with a chance of pulling his girl back out of whatever this was and bringing back some of the girl
he missed crazily, was him. His way.
Sophie and he had a bond like no other, and even though the past months had seen them changing
towards each other, he knew his girl was still in there somewhere, and he needed to find her again. For
his own sanity, as well as hers, as all of this was slowly killing him. He hated seeing her messed up and
unhappy, and he knew he had to do something before he lost her too. Despite always calling on him,
he felt like he had been losing her for a long time and was the root of his stress for months now. The
possible stomach ulcer too.
Arrick picked up his cell phone and scrolled to his most recent calls, hitting Natasha’s name, laying it
back down in the console, eyes glued to the road, frowning. He hated driving in mid-town traffic past
eight p.m.; the hustle and bustle of people hitting the nightlife always made it a headache to
navigate.
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