Fck love. It was messy. It was unpredictable. It broke you in ways nothing else could. But god fcking damn it, he loved Annie Williams.
So here he was—sitting in his car, staring at the dashboard, fighting every instinct he had. The news about Annie’s mom had hit him harder than he expected, and for the past two hours, he’d been stuck in the same spot, engine rumbling beneath him as he debated whether to go to her house.
His hand hovered over the gear shift, his thumb tapping against it anxiously. Just go, Ricky. Go and… what? What could he even say to her? He hadn’t seen Annie since the ski trip. But now… now, all he could think about was how much she must be hurting.
He turned the engine off, leaning back in his seat as he dragged his hands through his hair. She doesn’t need you there. She doesn’t want you there, he told himself, and yet his feet betrayed him. He got back into the car anyway, slamming the door behind him as he started driving toward her house.
Halfway to her house, however, he stopped, his stomach twisting. He couldn’t do this. What if showing up made things worse? So… he took a U-turn at a red light that clearly said NO U-TURNS. Whatever.
Ricky groaned, gripping the wheel with both hands as he stared out the windshield. For the briefest moment, his mind drifted to the Annie he used to know—the girl who smiled like she didn’t have a care in the world. He wanted to believe he could help her now. That he could be what she needed. But who was he kidding?
He turned back toward his apartment. Parking the car once more, torn between staying and going, his phone buzzed against the console. The screen lit up with a message, pulling him from his thoughts.
To Enrique:
Can you please come pick me up? I’m at Matty’s house.
His brows furrowed as he stared at the text. Sophie. Why the hell was she at Matty’s house? He didn’t have time to think before her second text came through.
To Enrique:
Never mind. I’m fine. I’m just going to walk.
Bullsh!t.
Without hesitation, Ricky unlocked his phone and opened her location. She wasn’t fine. Not Sophie. Not when she was texting him like this.
He threw the car into drive, his earlier doubts about Annie momentarily forgotten. Whatever was happening with Sophie was something he needed to deal with right now… and maybe it served as a distraction for what was happening elsewhere in his life.
The moment he spotted Sophie walking down the street, his stomach dropped. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her body, her steps uneven, like she was barely holding herself together.
He pulled up beside her, cutting the engine before stepping out of the car. She looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy, tears still clinging to her cheeks.
“I could’ve walked…” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Sophie…” he muttered, taking a step closer.
He didn’t need to ask. He could see it—the way she flinched when he moved toward her, the way she wouldn’t meet his eyes. His jaw clenched, anger simmering beneath the surface. Someone had done this to her. Someone had hurt her.
“Who did this to you?” His voice was sharp, his green eyes scanning her like he could force the answer out of her. She shook her head, her lips trembling as she tried to brush past him.
“Don’t fcking do that,” he snapped, stepping in front of her. “Don’t fcking brush me off, Sophie. I swear to god, just give me a name. Who. Was. It?”
Her silence only fueled his anger. He could feel it bubbling to the surface, his fists tightening at his sides.
“If it was Matty, I swear to fcking god, I’m going to murder him. I don’t care. Give me a name, Sophie. Now.”
The last word came out almost as a plea, his voice cracking as the anger gave way to something more raw—fear. He couldn’t stand this. Seeing her like this. Not knowing who had hurt her. Not knowing how to fix it.
Sophie didn’t answer him. Not once. Not even after he begged her to just give him a name. She sat beside him, curled up against the car door, her silence a wall he couldn’t break through. Ricky’s patience—if he even had any to begin with—snapped like a frayed thread.
“Fine. Don’t say anything. Just get in the car.” His voice was sharp, no longer leaving room for argument. He didn’t bother asking where she wanted to go. He had already made up his mind.
The drive was quiet, save for the tension that hung heavy in the air. Ricky’s grip on the wheel was tight, his knuckles white against the leather. His jaw clenched, his mind replaying Sophie’s tears, the way she flinched at every sharp movement. Someone did this to her, and they were going to fcking pay.
When they pulled up to Matty’s house, Ricky didn’t wait for her to protest. He threw the car into park, got out, and popped the trunk. Sophie’s soft, broken voice reached him as he rummaged through the back, but he ignored her. His hand wrapped around the long wrench he kept for changing his tires, and with the tool in hand, he slammed the trunk shut.
“Ricky, don’t—”
“Stay in the car.” His words were curt, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Without hesitation, he strode up to the front door. The house was quiet, dark, but that didn’t stop him. Raising the wrench, he smashed it into the window next to the door. Glass shattered, falling to the ground like jagged raindrops. Reaching through the broken pane, he unlocked the door and pushed it open with a force that made it bang against the wall.
“HELLO? IS SOMEONE FCKING HERE?”
The silence that followed only fueled his rage. He stormed further into the house, his shoes heavy against the hardwood floor.
It wasn’t long before he saw him. Matty’s dad was in his office, sitting at a desk with a phone pressed to his ear. He looked up with an annoyed expression, completely unbothered by Ricky’s presence.
“Who the fck do you think you are?” the man asked, his tone condescending.
Ricky rolled his eyes, his grip tightening on the wrench. “Did you do something to Sophie?”
The man’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Who?”
That was enough to set Ricky off. His eyes darted to the chair beside the desk where Sophie’s sweater was draped. His chest tightened, his rage spilling over. Without thinking, he swung the wrench at the man’s computer, the screen shattering with a satisfying crunch.
“You’re a bad fcking liar. What did you do?”
The man shot up from his chair, his face red with anger. He took a swing at Ricky, but Ricky was faster. He ducked, dodging the punch with ease, and retaliated with his own. His fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him stumbling back.
But Ricky didn’t stop. He hit him again. And again. Each punch landed harder than the last, his anger surging through him like wildfire. The man’s protests faded, replaced by groans of pain until he finally slumped to the floor, unmoving.
Breathing heavily, Ricky turned, his eyes landing on Sophie. She stood frozen in the doorway, tears streaming down her face. The sight of her broke whatever was left of his anger, and he dropped the wrench with a loud clang.
He crossed the room in three quick strides, pulling her into his arms without a word. She sobbed against his chest, her body trembling as he held her close.
“You’re okay,” he whispered, his voice softer now, though it still carried the weight of his emotions. “I’m here. You’re okay, Sophie. He won’t touch you again.”
For the first time that night, she didn’t try to pull away. She let herself sink into his embrace, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
Ricky didn’t care about the consequences. Not about the broken window, not about the unconscious man on the floor. All that mattered was Sophie.
@novella mentioned