Chapter 21
Miles
Fuck sake. Sofia having a tantrum and drinking herself into a coma while locked in the bathroom was not what I needed. What I needed was to focus on hacking Ash’s security system he’d installed on the computer. The sooner I figured it out, the sooner we could get out of here.
But no.
Jailbait had other ideas.
“Open the door, Sofia,” I yelled, thumping the wood.
Silence.
I muttered a curse, my temper flaring once more. No way in hell was I leaving her with a bottle of vodka. Knowing her, she’d drink it all, pass out, and whack her head.
Or choke on her own vomit.
Fuck my life.
“Jailbait! Open the fucking door!” I rattled the handle, cursing again when the door only shook but didn’t open.
From inside, she said something, but it was too quiet to hear. I pressed my ear against the door to listen; no doubt she was spewing vitriol my way. Only, I was met with the undeniable crackle of a blister packet being torn open.
In every safehouse, we kept a stash of medication in case one of us needed pain relief and a doctor couldn’t get to us. It was strong shit too, intended to be used if one of us had been shot or stabbed. So why did Sofia need painkillers? Had I hurt her when I was rough with her earlier?
My stomach lurched. “Sofe, please. Open the door, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
This time, a sob filtered through, followed by the rustling of more blister packets opening.
My heart froze.
She wasn’t-
Fuck, was she taking tablets with the vodka?
Anger and frustration turned to alarm in an instant. I rattled the handle again, shoving my shoulder against the door. “Sofia, open the door.”
“Leave me alone, Miles,” she replied, her voice sounding most unlike her.
No defiance.
No sass.
She sounded broken.
My heart thawed and began pounding furiously against my ribs as panic gripped me. “Open the fucking door, Sofia, or I swear, I’ll kick it the fuck down!” I slammed my shoulder against it again, but it still didn’t budge.
Another sob reached my ears, followed by a deafening thud. I reared back and kicked the door with as much strength as I could muster, and thank fuck, it swung open, crashing against the wall.
Rushing inside, I paused as I surveyed the scene before me.
Sofia was on the floor with her legs bent underneath her, and empty blister packs scattered around.
Her bloodshot eyes were filled with unshed tears, and her cheeks flushed.
In front of her was the open bottle of vodka, no longer filled to the brim, and one of her hands was clasped into a fist.
For the briefest of seconds, neither of us moved. Until she raised her hand, propelling me into action. I lunged forward, falling to my knees and grabbing her wrist before she could shove the pills she held into her mouth.
She released a piercing scream as she tried to tug her hand free, and in the commotion, one of us knocked the bottle. It toppled over, the contents spilling on the floor.
“Leave me alone,” she cried, sinking her nails into the palm of her hand as I tried to prise her fingers apart.
“Fuck, no. What the hell are you doing?” I managed to open her fingers, and four tablets scattered across the floor.
Sofia’s body slumped, tears streaming down her face. “Just let me die,” she sniffed. “I don’t want to live this life anymore.”
She covered her face with her hands, and her entire body shook with gut-wrenching sobs. Guilt slammed into me like a freight train, and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into my lap as she bawled against me.
I did this.
I did this to her.
If anyone deserved to die, it was me.
My gaze fell onto the empty packets around her, indicating she’d swallowed at least fifteen tablets, along with god only knew how much vodka. A startling realization washed over me, landing in the pit of my stomach like a ton of rocks.
I was going to lose her.
No.
No, I couldn’t lose her.
I couldn’t lose another person that I…
“Fuck!” Springing into action, I jumped up and reached over to turn the shower on before lifting her. She didn’t try to wriggle out of my grasp, lost in her sobs of despair. I moved the two of us under the warm stream, our clothes quickly drenched.
From behind, I held her around the waist, and with my chest, I pushed her forward so she was bent over. With my other hand, I forced her mouth open, ramming two fingers down the back of her throat.
Tears burned my eyes as she bucked, protesting against my fingers as she gagged. I didn’t think I could hate myself more than what I did right then, knowing that not only had I pushed her to wanting to take her life, but now I was causing her more anguish with my fingers down her throat.
But I had to.
I refused to lose her.
When I pushed my fingers further down, she lurched, and I withdrew them just in time for her to expel the contents of her stomach. Pills mixed with bile landed in the basin of the shower, some of which had already begun to dissolve.
I rubbed her back in soothing circles, her shoulders heaving as she ejected more pills between whimpers, every one hitting me square in the chest.
Despite trying not to let it materialize, an image of her lifeless body flashed before my eyes; her dead on the bathroom floor, surrounded by pill packets and an empty bottle.
Gone.
Forever.
I continued to rub her back, guilt and despair coiling around my heart like a snake, and squeezing until I couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry, Sofe,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I’m so goddamn sorry.”