Chapter 21: Nate
We’ve been back at the house for two days, and Sofia still hasn’t woken up. After bringing her here, we tried to clean her up as best we could. She looked so fragile lying there, bruises marring her skin, and it felt wrong to leave her covered in blood. I’ve sat here with the guys, each of us taking turns with a damp cloth, carefully dabbing at the cuts and bruises on her face, trying to wash away the worst of it. We’ve pulled chairs around the bed, but eventually, two of us end up on each side of her, barely leaving her side.
I can’t stop myself from taking an inventory of her injuries, trying to understand what they did to her, trying to make sense of it all. There’s a large bruise on her cheek where she was hit, and dark red marks wrap around her wrists where she was restrained. Her neck has faint purple bruises from where that bastard choked her, and I notice more bruises on her arms and legs. They were brutal, and it makes me sick just looking at her.
Leo clenches his jaw as he watches me go over her injuries. “What were they saying to her?” he asks Riley, his voice tight.
Riley takes a deep breath, glancing at me before answering. “They were saying things I wouldn’t repeat in front of anyone, especially not her. Disgusting things. Things that no one deserves to hear.”
Leo stands up abruptly, his hands balling into fists as he walks out of the room. A moment later, we hear a loud crash, followed by the sound of something shattering. I can’t blame him. It’s taking everything I have not to lose it myself. Riley follows him, leaving Danny and me alone with Sofia.
I reach out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “We should’ve been there sooner,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “She shouldn’t have had to go through that.”
Danny nods, his eyes fixed on her as he holds the cloth. “We’ll make it right. We’ll make sure they pay for what they did to her.”
We sit in silence, taking turns wiping the blood from her face, careful not to disturb her. It’s been hard, these last two days, waiting and watching, hoping she’ll wake up. We’ve barely left her alone, one of us always staying in the room with her, just in case. She’s been quiet, so still, and each hour that passes feels like a lifetime.
Suddenly, she makes a noise, a small, barely audible sound that sends a jolt of relief through me. I lean closer, brushing my hand through her hair, calling her name softly. “Sofia… come on, you can wake up. We’re here.”
Her eyes flutter, and for a moment, I think she’s going to open them, but then she falls silent again. I motion to the guys, who gather around, each of us waiting, holding our breath. Finally, she stirs, her eyes opening slowly, blinking against the light.
She looks up at us, confusion and fear clouding her gaze. She tries to sit up, but winces, her face contorting with pain as she lies back down. “Easy,” I say, keeping my hand on her shoulder. “Don’t push yourself. You’re safe here. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
She takes a shaky breath, her eyes darting between us. “Where… where am I?” she whispers.
“You’re at our house,” Riley says, his voice soft and reassuring. “We brought you here after… after what happened. You’re safe now, and you can stay as long as you need.”
She closes her eyes, her expression twisted with pain and fear. “They… they were going to—”
“They’re not going to touch you again,” Danny cuts in, his voice hard with conviction. “We’ll make sure of it.”
She nods, biting her lip, and I can see the tears starting to pool in her eyes. “I just want to wash this off,” she murmurs, touching a bruise on her cheek. “All of it.”
Riley stands up, disappearing for a moment before returning with a fresh shirt and a pair of jogging pants. He holds them out to her, his expression softening. “They’re clean, and they should be comfortable. Take your time in the shower. We’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
She takes the clothes from him, looking up at us with a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. We help her up, guiding her to the bathroom, and then step outside, leaving the door slightly ajar. I hear the sound of water running, and I lean back against the wall, exhaling a long, shaky breath. The last two days have felt like a lifetime, but seeing her up and moving, seeing her take some control back, feels like a small victory.
When she steps out of the bathroom, she looks almost like a different person. She’s still pale, her hair damp and falling over her shoulders, but she looks so vulnerable in Riley’s oversized shirt and jogging pants. The clothes drown her, making her look even smaller, and I can’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness. She glances at us, a faint blush on her cheeks as she pulls at the hem of the shirt.
Riley offers her a soft smile, and we give her space, letting her settle back onto the bed. She’s been through hell, but she’s here, and that’s what matters. We’ll be here, no matter how long it takes, making sure she has a chance to heal.