Ricky held Sophie as tightly as he could without hurting her, feeling her entire body tremble against his. Her sobs broke something in him—something he didn’t even know could still break. He had no idea this was happening to her. He had no idea it ever happened. And now, knowing she’d been carrying this pain while he stood on the sidelines, oblivious, shattered him.
His voice cracked as he whispered, “You’re okay, Sophie. I’ve got you. He won’t touch you again.” He paused, swallowing hard, his throat tightening. He didn’t even know if that was true—if he could promise her that. But god help him, he was going to do everything in his power to make sure it was. “I swear, no one will.”
“If he won’t, someone will… There’ll always be someone else again… That’s what always happens… again and again… and it won’t go away…”
His arms tightened around her as if he could shield her from the entire fcking world. His voice was soft but firm when he responded. “No. That’s not going to happen. Not again. Not ever. I’m here, Sophie. I’ll always be here.” And he would be. He wasn’t… fcking going anywhere. Not again. Not ever fcking again.
For a moment, he stayed like that, letting her cry into his chest while he tried to keep himself together. His jaw clenched as he exhaled slowly, rage simmering beneath the surface. He needed to handle this. Now. But he wasn’t leaving her alone—not here.
“Sophie, I’m sorry. I’ll be right here. But let’s get out of here first, okay? Then I’ll deal with this.”
He gently guided her out of the room, his arm securely wrapped around her shoulders as they moved back to the car. Once she was seated, he crouched down beside her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. His green eyes locked onto hers, steady and sure.
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise. Just stay here for a second while I make a call.”
Only when she nodded did he straighten up. Carefully, he closed the car door, lingering for a second to make sure she was okay before pulling out his phone. The fury inside him churned as he hit the buttons for a three-way call, but his movements remained deliberate. He couldn’t afford to lose it now—not when she needed him.
His mother’s voice came through first, sharp and commanding. “Ricky, are you finally ready to tal-?”
“Mom. Dad. I need you to listen.” His voice was steady, but anyone who knew him could hear the strain—hear the way it trembled, held together by fraying threads. “Something happened. Sophie—she… Matty’s dad. That bastard put his hands on her. I don’t know everything yet, but I know enough. And I’m telling you right now, I’ll do anything—anything—to make sure this fcking asshole rots in prison.”
There was a pause on the line before his dad, the Sheriff, spoke. “Where are you?”
“1752 Driftwood St. He’s unconscious. Sophie’s with me.”
“Unconscious?” his dad asked, his voice tight.
“Yeah, I handled it. He’s not dead, but I made sure he won’t be touching anyone else anytime soon.”
His mother’s voice cut in, calm but deliberate. “Is Sophie okay?”
Ricky’s breath hitched at the question, his eyes flicking toward Sophie sitting in the car. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, her head down, tears still rolling down her cheeks. He ran a hand through his hair, gripping it at the back of his neck as he tried to find the words.
“I—I don’t know, Mom. She’s crying, she won’t stop crying. I’m trying. I’m trying to fcking hold it together, but I don’t—god, I don’t know what to do for her.” His voice cracked, and he pressed a hand against his forehead, his knuckles white from the tension. “I didn’t even know she was going through this, and now… now she’s just sitting there, and I can’t—”
“Ricky.” His dad’s voice was firm, cutting through the spiral. “Stay where you are. I’m coming right now.”
But his mother interrupted. “Wait.”
“What do you mean, wait?” his dad snapped.
His mother’s tone didn’t waver. “Ricky, listen to me.”
“I am listening! I’m trying to figure this out, but I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do—”
“Come back home.”
The words stopped him in his tracks. “What?” His brow furrowed, the confusion clear in his voice.
“You’ve been avoiding us since you found out. You’ve been acting out, pushing us away. And now, Ricky, you need us. If you want our help, if you want this man to never see the light of day, you’re coming home after this. You’re living with us until you graduate. No more apartment. And there will be conditions.”
“Mom, this isn’t the time for this—”
“Ricky, it’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his hand gripping the phone like it was the only thing grounding him. His throat tightened, and he glanced back at Sophie, curled up in the car. She was all that mattered.
“Fine,” he said finally, his voice low but resolute. “I’ll come back. I’ll do whatever you want. But you have to promise me—you have to swear to me—that this bastard will never get out. That he’ll never touch anyone again.”
His mother’s voice softened, the sharp edges of her tone giving way to something gentler. “We’ll take care of it. The police and ambulance are on their way now.”
Ricky ended the call and took a moment to steady himself, his hands shaking as he ran them down his face. He had stepped far enough away to make sure Sophie wouldn’t hear him, but now, with the call over and the promise made, he turned back toward the car.
She hadn’t moved. Her small frame was still curled into herself, and for a second, his chest tightened at the sight. But he pushed the feeling down and made his way back to her, crouching beside the car door and gently opening it.
“Hey,” he said softly, his voice different now—softer, steadier. He reached out slowly, wrapping his arms around her as he pulled her close, letting her rest against him. “The cops are coming. So’s an ambulance.”
Her body stiffened slightly in his arms, but he didn’t let go. He just held her, his hand brushing lightly over her hair as he spoke. “I’m not leaving until they check you out, okay? You’re safe now, Sophie. I promise.”
And this time, Ricky Montoya was going to keep that promise.