Until Series(288)

I want to be with her; I want a future with her, but I need her to want it too. That’s why last night, after getting off the phone with her, I called Justin and had him do a hard run—also known as an extensive background check—on her. What I never expected was for him to tell me about a police report from right before she was emancipated from her father shortly after her mother’s death.

“Come here,” I tell her, setting Daisy on the ground.

“What’s wrong?” She shuffles her feet, not looking at me.

“Come here, Sophie,” I repeat more firmly this time. I hold out my hand, and she finally walks to me, her steps slow and unsure.

“I feel like something’s wrong,” she whispers, searching my face when my hand wraps around hers pulls her to me.

“We need to talk.”

“Oh no,” she whispers.

I pick her up, placing her on the counter, where I stand between her legs, not giving her any room to run when I say what I have to say. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.” She nods, her hands balling into fists on her thighs.

“I had your background ran a few months ago. And again yesterday.”

“What?” she breathes, her eyes widening.

“You won’t open up to me, Sophie.”

“I cannot believe you did that!”

“You didn’t give me much choice,” I say calmly.

“I didn’t?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

“No, you didn’t,” I growl.

“You can’t just force me to talk to you.” She pushes my chest.

“I’m not forcing you,” I argue, not budging.

“You had my background ran, you jerk. What do you call that?”

“I needed to know what I’m dealing with,” I explain.

“Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to deal with it anymore!” she yells, shoving my chest, trying to get off the counter.

“Stop.” I grab her wrists, bringing them around her back and caging her in. “No more bullshit, Sophie. Talk to me. I need you to tell me what happened,” I say, softening my voice.

“I think it’s stupid,” she says quietly, her body finally sagging against mine.

“What?” I ask surprised.

“Now that I’ve been going to my group and hearing stories from other women who have really been hurt, my story seems stupid,” she says quietly.

“It’s not stupid.” I pick her up off the counter, and her legs wrap around my hips as I carry her down the hall to my room.

“What are you doing?” she asks as I lay her on the bed then climb in next to her.

“We’re going to talk. You’re going to tell me what happened,” I state.

“You know, I really don’t like it when you completely ignore what I tell you.”

“Okay, baby. Talk to me,” I tell her, adjusting her so that we’re face to face.

“Gahhhh, you’re so annoying,” she whines.

“Talk, Soph.”

“Fine.” She sighs, closing her eyes.

I listen quietly, running my hand through her hair as she tells me everything I already learned from her police report. Hearing it from her mouth has me ready to kill someone, and by the time she’s done talking, I have mentally planned my trip to Seattle.

“So, you see, it’s really not that bad,” she says, looking up at me.

I know it could have been much worse, but I also know that what happened to her changed the course of her life even more than it had already when she lost her mother. And even if she doesn’t want to admit it, I know that the loss of her mom when she was so young has a lot to do with her avoiding any type of relationship with people.

“Sophie, what happened to you was bad,” I confirm.

“Not as bad as it could have been,” she says softly. “I always knew it could have been worse, but I never understood to what extreme. After hearing what happened to some of the women in my group, I understand now, and I’m even more thankful. I hate that I’ve been so weak.”

“You did what you had to do to protect yourself.”

“I didn’t though. I hid out in my house, afraid to meet new people or even date.”

“You moved to another state all alone,” I remind her.

“Only because I wanted to buy a house.”

“You can say you did it because you wanted to buy a house, but I think you did it because you were ready to change your life. You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles, nervously playing with the pocket of my T-shirt.

“I do. Look at how you are with me.”

“You’re sweet.” She smiles, running her fingers along my jaw.