by L. S. Pullen
“Please, just let them do their job,” he grunts, but I pull myself free.
I move closer so I can see what’s going on; her face is blotchy and hurt, but I can’t see the rest of her. “Sophie,” I say again. “What the fuck is wrong with her? You need to help her!”
I’m pushed off to the side. It’s suffocating in here, the room too small.
“Sir, you need to calm down and tell me who you are.”
“Charlie Broadbent… her boyfriend.” I wave towards her. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”
The air is thick with tension, Sophie’s home now tainted.
“We don’t have all the details. A neighbour called in the disturbance. We’ve taken a man into custody. It would appear he forced entry, but that’s all we have at the moment.”
I clench my fists, trying to contain my rage. My eyes follow everything the paramedics do. They move her onto a board, clip it together underneath her, get ready to take her to hospital.
Why isn’t she waking up?
She was attacked, in her own home. I swear, if I ever get my hands on that mother fucker, I will gut him.
“I know you must be feeling very conflicted and shocked right now, but rest assured, we’ll do everything we can to get to the bottom of this.”
Bollocks will they. I don’t have much faith in the justice system.
I nod. “Where are you taking her?”
“Hospital,” replies one of the officers.
I glare at her sarcastic response. “Which one?” I grind out, trying my utmost to keep myself in check as I follow them downstairs and outside.
“The Whittington,” replies one of the paramedics over her shoulder, her eyes soft with compassion.
“I’m coming with her,” I say, my eyes flitting between the paramedic and one of the officers. “What happens with the house?”
“We’ll make sure it’s secure. We still have some statements to take,” he replies.
They don’t have a choice when I climb into the back of the ambulance. I’d have to be unconscious or dead for them to keep from going with her. My fingers tremble as I type Flick a quick text. And then watch on, helplessly, as the paramedic checks her vitals.
Please, Sophie, wake up.
When we arrive, everything happens so quickly. She’s rushed through to the emergency room, and I’m left to try and give the receptionist some necessary information.
I’m pacing when Flick arrives and rushes over. I pull her to me, and her body vibrates as she tries to hold back tears.
“How is she?” she asks, leaning back to gauge my reaction.
I shake my head. “I don’t know, they won’t tell me anything.”
“What? This is bloody ridiculous.”
She roughly wipes her sleeve over her face before turning on her heels and marching over to the reception desk, returning a few minutes later.
“A doctor will come and speak to us soon,” she says as she grabs my hand and leads us over to some free chairs.
I hold her hand in mine as I bounce my knee up and down, trying to breathe through my mouth so I can ignore the smells that makes me nauseous.
“How did you get to her so quickly?”
“What?”
“How did you know to go to her?”
I stare at my hands and cringe. “I added myself to receive an alert if her alarm was activated.”
I risk a glance at her, and she smiles warmly. “Well, I’m glad you did. I haven’t been the best friend to her of late.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
I let go of her hand and pull her into my side. My phone vibrates in my pocket, reminding me it’s there. I shift and pull it free, swiping ignore, but it goes off again.
Letting out a groan I answer. “Dad, I’m at The Whittington Hospital. So, I can’t really talk right now.”
“Are you okay?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.
“No, I’m not fucking okay. The woman I care about is hurt, and no one will tell us what the fuck is going on. Would you be all right?” I reply, unleashing my pent-up frustration on him.
Flick eyes me and silently mouths a, “Calm down.”
“Shit, sorry, Dad—” Her elbow connects with my side, and I glance up at the nurse walking towards us. I lower the phone away from my ear, standing when she comes to a stop in front of us.
She confirms Flick is Sophie’s next of kin before the nurse continues. I didn’t know that.
“Is she okay?” Flick asks, worry strangling her question.
“Yes, she and the baby are fine. We ran an ultrasound. It was the only way to calm her down when she arrived. But she does, however, have a concussion so we’ll be keeping her overnight.”
Baby. “Baby?” It’s a rhetorical question. I know I heard her correctly.
Suddenly, everything I thought I knew shifts. Nothing will ever be the same again. I plonk back down into the chair, worried the legs that have held me up my whole life will suddenly give out.
“Yes, she’s fortunate, considering… She has some bruising, but she’ll be fine. You can come see her, but she has been through a very traumatic experience and needs to rest.”
Pregnant?
“Hello, earth to Charlie…are you coming?”
Flick’s waving her hand in front of my face.
“Yeah.” I hear a muffled noise and notice my Dad is still on the line, but I can’t talk to him not now. I end the call.
The nurse walks us to a side room.
“You won’t move her, will you?” I ask the nurse.
She shakes her head. “No, she needs rest and monitoring. She’ll remain here until she’s discharged.”
Flick watches our exchange, her palm on her chest.
I don’t make eye contact. I can’t. Everything seems like an effort—even breathing. I lean over and put my hands on my knees.
Pull your shit together, man.
“Are you all right?” Flick asks, placing her hand on my back.
I stand up straight and nod. I take her hand in mine, needing to find some kind of centre. We enter the room. My height means I can see over Flick’s head, and I zone in on Sophie, laying in a hospital bed. So small—vulnerable.
She turns her head towards us as we enter and erupts into tears.
Flick lets go, rushing over to her.
“I’m fine—” she chokes out, trying to placate Flick. “I’m fine, just sore,” she says, but it’s more for her benefit than ours.
“Oh, Sophie,” Flick says, choking back tears herself.
“I tried to get away from him, I really did.” She brings a shaky hand up to her temple and winces.
“Baby is fine, though,” Flick whispers to reassure her. With shaky fingers, she moves the hair off Sophie’s face.
Her lips tremble. “I know, but when he started hitting me… I wish I could tell you I kicked his arse, but he was so out of control,” she says as her voice breaks, and the tears fall.
I can’t stand back any longer when she is this upset.
I force my feet to move. Flick steps aside, letting me closer. I lean down and wipe the tears from Sophie’s face. The bruising is evident, making my stomach churn and anger rise.
But I see the worry in her eyes and push my emotions aside. “Pregnant, huh?”
She nods and bites down on her swollen lip, then immediately lets go with a small hiss.
“That’s lovely, Soph. You’ll be a great mum.”
“Really?” she asks, and even though I know she’s hurting and terrified, her mouth forms a smile that I swear is reserved only for me.
“Yes, really,” I say and lean down to kiss her forehead. Her eyes drift closed, and I take a step back.
“We should let you rest. We’ll be back in a bit, okay?” Flick says from beside to me.
Outside, I lean against the wall and take in a few deep breaths, covering my face with my hands, shaking my head.
“Charlie, are you okay?”
I pull my hands away and stare at Flick. “Not really.”
It’s a lot to take in. Her getting assaulted. Her being pregnant. “You knew?”
“She’s my best friend—of course, I knew. We told her she should tell you.’
“We?”
“Nate and me, but she asked us to promise not to say anything to anyone.”
Is she fucking kidding me right now?
“I can’t believe you both knew. I’m such an idiot.”
“Charlie, you need to try and understand she has her reasons.”
I scan the meek, colourless halls. The walls are closing in all around me, and the constant buzzing of the fluorescent overhead flickers sporadically.
The nurse who brought us here approaches. “I just wanted to let you know, visiting finishes at eight, but under the circumstances, the ward sister said someone could stay with her.”
I turn to Flick. “Do you mind if it’s me?”
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, conflicted. “Let me just go in and say bye.”
The truth is, I wouldn’t go home either way. I need to make sure she’s okay. And…I’m pretty sure this baby is mine, but what I don’t understand is why she hasn’t told me. If I’m right, don’t I deserve to know?
I thought there was more to it—the blow out between us. But even if she doesn’t want to be with me, she shouldn’t keep something as life-changing as this from me. I’m so torn right now, but when I saw the terror etched on her face when I rounded the stairs right before she passed out, laying there battered and unresponsive. I’ve never felt so helpless.
Now the revelation she’s having a baby…I’m fucking dumbfounded.
When Flick comes back, she seems to have made up her mind and is in agreement that I am the one to stay.
“Let me walk you out.”
She smiles and links her arm through mine. We’re both quiet as we near the exit. She turns to me before heading to the car park and says, “Promise me you’ll keep an eye on her, and if anything changes, you’ll ring me.”
“I promise,” I reply.
Outside, I double-take at the person walking towards me. What the fuck? “Dad?”
Flick looks to me then back to him.
“Charles,” he replies, with a nod of acknowledgement.
Am I in the bloody twilight zone right now? “What are you doing here?” I ask.
He shifts on his feet, he’s nervous. “Checking you’re okay. And Sophie?” he enquires.
“What?” I ask, my voice slightly raised.
Flick touches my arm. “Charlie, I’m going to go. Please ring me later?”
I suddenly find my manners. “Of course. Felicity, this is my Dad, Edward. Dad, this is Felicity.”
He steps forward and holds out his hand. She takes it gently as he gives her a soft handshake.
“Pleasure to meet you, just a shame it’s under these circumstances. I’ve heard good things about you, and congratulations on your marriage.” He sounds completely genuine, and I think I need to sit down. What the actual fuck is happening?
Her eyes dart between the two of us as her cheeks turn a soft hue of rouge.
“Thank you,” she replies, her voice soft as she lets go of his hand. She turns to me, and on tiptoes, kisses my cheek before she walks away, waving while headed to the car park.
I tilt my head back and watch as a thunder cloud rolls in. You can smell the soft damp breeze in the air as a summer rainstorm gets ready to hit.
I spot a free bench not too far from us and without saying a word, I make my way over. Dad follows. I take a seat.
I let out a breath, my voice low. “Dad, don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?”
He sits down next to me, and my eyes move to him.
His shoulders slump. “Honestly, I was worried about you, and when I heard Sophie was here, I had to come and check you were all right.”
I let out a rough laugh. “You don’t even like Sophie.”
He turns to me, wounded. “I don’t dislike her, but I was judgemental, and for that, I apologise.”
“It’s her you owe an apology to, not me.”
He nods in agreement. “But I’m sorry to you, too, son. And I know this may seem as though this is coming out of nowhere—”
“You can say that again,” I grumble.
He puts his palm on the back of my shoulder. “I have a lot to apologise for, Charles, and I want to put them right or at least show you. Maybe it’s too late for me to be a better father, but I can at least work at being maybe a friend.”
I lean out of his touch. Sweat pools between my shoulders; it’s muggy, and this whole scenario is completely throwing me off. I can hardly process any of this. Sophie was just attacked, she’s pregnant, the baby ninety-nine percent likely mine, and my father is here pleading redemption
“Sorry, this is just…crazy. What’s all this about? What happened?”
“Verity.”
I let out an exasperated sigh, and there it is. I go to stand, but he stills my arm.
“No, I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not like that…not with her. There was only one other woman who ever made me see beyond my idiotic ways, and that was your mother. Verity’s first and foremost my friend, my confidant. She opened up to me about the loss of her daughter. And in turn, I did the same about your mother. I didn’t even understand how my behaviour all these years was ruled by my grief. And now the guilt I carry, knowing I became everything your mother would have detested… It’s left more than a bitter taste in my mouth.”
I swallow hard, not knowing how to deal with any of this; he never mentions my Mum to me, not ever. I turn and stare at his face. He’s aged; the lines around his eyes are weary, his lips grim. I want to console him. I’m not a bastard; I can see admitting that isn’t easy for him, but right now, I don’t have the words to articulate any of this.
“You talk about Mum?” I ask.
He turns, and his eyes catch mine, their glassed over. “I do. Verity lost her daughter in an accident, and it tore her and her husband apart. We were only friends when it happened, but over time, we’ve become more. She makes me want to be the man your Mum fell in love with.” His throat catches on the words.
“Sounds like you finally picked a good one, then.” It’s all I have right now.
“It’s your Nan’s eighty-fifth birthday next week,” he says.
I tilt my head. Where’s he going with this? “You’re going out there to see her and the family?”
“I am. Booked my flights a couple of months back.”
He fidgets—something he doesn’t usually do. “I want to come with you if you don’t mind.”
I draw back my head to see if he’s just saying that. He’s serious.
“I have things I need to put right with your nan, too,” he says.
I can’t argue with that. He stands and holds out a small bag I didn’t even notice he was holding.
“Granted I have poor timing, but I’ve been holding onto this for a while and wanted to you have it.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“Something that belongs to you,” he says.
I take it. “Thanks.”
He turns to leave but pauses. “I’ll call you about Aus, and send Sophie my best, won’t you?”
I don’t answer, just stare at his retreating back.
There’s a rumble followed by a clap of thunder as rain begins to pelt down. I dart to my feet and jog inside, followed by the fresh, earthy aroma of a summer downpour.
Chapter 34
Charlie
I run my hand through my hair and take a deep breath before I tap on the door to her room. She’s in bed, staring at the rain as it cascades down the window. My trainers squeak as I approach her.
She turns to me, her face half-swollen. My stomach plummets, and I clench my fist.
“How are you feeling?” It’s a stupid question but whatever.
“Okay. A little confused, to
be honest.”
There’s a small rumble, and for a moment, I think it’s thunder in the distance, but her cheeks flame, her hand goes to her stomach.
“Hungry?” I ask with a half-smirk.
A nurse walks in, carrying a tray with toast and a cup of what smells like hot chocolate.
Sophie shuffles, and I’m next to her in two strides, helping her to sit up.
“Thank you,” I say to the nurse. She gives me a warm smile and leaves us.
She nibbles on the toast and sips her drink as I sit watching. My eyes roam over her body, searching for marks of where the arsehole hurt her.
“How’s your head?” She has an egg-shaped lump on her temple.
“Sore,” she says with a small shrug. “Pretty much my whole body is aching.” She says it so matter-of-fact, I want to scream at the fucker who did this to her.
“What happened?” I ask.
Her fingers tremble as she drops the crust back onto the plate and pushes it away. “I’m not sure. I’d had this foreboding feeling, you know, like I was being watched…”
I take hold of her hand.
“It happened so quickly. I tried to fight back. But he was so out of control…”
“I’m so fucking sorry, Sophie.”
She gives me an incredulous look. “It wasn’t your fault.”
She may say that… I can’t help but think differently. We’re interrupted by a tap on the door, and another nurse enters, holding a small holdall.
“Hey, sweetie, this was dropped off for you,” she says, passing me the bag.
“Thank you. Am I okay to shower now?” Sophie asks.
“Yes. Do you need assistance, or will your boyfriend be here to help you?”
Sophie nods and then the woman’s crocs squeak unpleasantly, as she walks out. “Sorry, I’m fine on my own. I just really didn’t want a stranger helping me.”
Stiffly, she fidgets and hangs her legs over the side of the bed, clearly in discomfort, wincing as she heads towards the bathroom. Holdall still in my clutches, I offer her my arm. She hesitates only for a split-second before accepting it.
Inside the small space, I place the bag down on the chair in the corner. She shuffles, and I turn to leave.
“Wait, can you just give me a hand?”
She’s fighting to untie the hospital gown as it slips off of her shoulders. The first thing I notice is her bra and knickers and my dick twitches, but then I see the bruising, and the feeling quickly dissipates.