Chapter 6 Sofia
Sofia
Kings County Hospital Center — Late Afternoon
Ugh, I hated hospitals.
The smell alone made my stomach twist—antiseptic and fear and something metallic underneath it all. I clutched my coat tighter around myself as Archer walked half a step behind me, eyes scanning every corridor like the walls themselves might sprout guns or decide to turn hostile.
“I told you, I’m fine,” Isabella called from the bed when she saw me hovering in the doorway like I was about to bolt.
Fine was… generous.
She had scrapes along her cheek and a purple bruise blooming up her arm, but she was sitting up, hair in a messy bun, scrolling through her phone like she was killing time at the DMV instead of recovering from getting hit by a damn car.
“You got hit by a car,” I said, my voice climbing an octave. “You don’t get to be fine.”
She sighed as she smiled, soft and a little tired. “It was an accident, Sof. Guy ran a light, clipped me while I was crossing. I bounced. See? Still here.”
“That’s not the least bit comforting,” I grumbled.
With a laugh that ended in a groan, she reached out and squeezed my hand. “I told you that you didn’t need to come all the way here. You’ve got enough going on.”
The words landed heavier than she knew. Like there was a baseball stuck in my throat, I swallowed and forced a smile. “Isabella… you’re my best friend. Of course I came.”
With suddenly narrowing eyes, she studied my face for a heartbeat too long. “You look really pale. Are you eating?”
“Yes,” I lied. Again.
Archer stayed by the door, quiet, respectful, pretending not to hear every word. But I could feel his awareness like a second skin, taut and unyielding. He was still pissed at me. Oh well.
After a nurse came in to fuss and confirm Isabella really was being discharged later that evening, I kissed her forehead carefully.
“Text me when you’re home,” I insisted.
“I will,” she promised. “And Sofia?”
“Yeah?”
The corners of her mouth gently lifted. “Whatever it is you’re dealing with—it doesn’t get to drag you down. Okay?”
As if I had any choice in the matter at this point, I nodded.
* * *
The hospital doors slid open with a pneumatic hiss, letting in a breath-stealing gust of cold air that carried the scent of snow and car exhaust. Dusk had fallen while we were inside, the sky already darkening to a bruised purple.
Archer shifted closer instinctively. “Stay near me.”
“I am near you,” I snapped, my nerves jangling.
We stepped onto the sidewalk.
That’s when I heard the engine.
Too fast. Too close.
Thankfully, Archer moved before my brain caught up.
“Down!”
He grabbed me around the waist and yanked me backward just as headlights flared—white, blinding—and a dark-colored car jumped the curb where I’d been standing a mere second earlier.
The impact never came, because Archer had already thrown us out of its path.
We hit the pavement hard. Pain exploded through my shoulder, and I silently cried out, the breath knocked clean out of me. Tires screeched. The car swerved, missing us by inches, then tore off down the street.
Gone.
Just like that.
Archer was on his feet instantly, dragging me upright, spinning in a full circle to place me between the building’s exterior and himself as he scanned the street, the cars, probably every little shadow.
“Can you stand?” he demanded.
“I—I think so.” Except my legs shook violently. My heart relentlessly pounded until I thought it might break my ribs.
“That wasn’t an accident,” I whispered with certainty.
“No,” he grimly agreed. “It wasn’t.”
He guided me toward the SUV parked across the street, shielding me with his body. My hands were trembling so badly I could barely make my fingers push my hair out of my face.
“They knew I’d be here,” I uttered, horror creeping up my spine. “They knew I’d go see Isabella.”
“Yes.”
“How? Are they still following me?”
“Possibly. Except I believe it’s more likely because they were the ones behind your friend’s accident,” Archer muttered as he kept me moving, one foot in front of the other. “They weren’t reacting. They were anticipating.”
I pressed a hand to my stomach, panic roaring through me. “The baby—”
“You’re fine,” he immediately assured me, softer now, which surprised me. “I’ve got you.”
Once we were inside the vehicle, with the doors locked, Archer pulled out his phone. He started the SUV and pulled out of our spot.
“Maksim,” he stated the second the call connected. “Attempt made. Vehicle strike. Hospital exit. She’s unharmed. We’re moving now.”
That was when I realized he had intentionally not connected the phone to the Bluetooth. Still, I could hear something violent and feral on the other end even without the speaker.
Archer listened, nodded once. “Understood.”
He hung up and turned to me. “We’re changing locations. Now. Maksim will gather your belongings from the house and meet us.”
Tears finally spilled over. “Oh my God. They hurt my friend. They followed me to the hospital.”
“Yes. Or they were already there… waiting.”
“They almost—”
“They didn’t and they won’t,” he cut in firmly. “Because you’re not alone.”
Trying to calm myself, I wrapped my arms around my waist, shaking, the reality crashing down all at once.
This wasn’t intimidation anymore.
This was a countdown.
And whoever was watching had just proven they were willing to kill me in public—with my child inside me—if it meant sending a message to Maksim. I was afraid it was going to get worse before it got better.
The SUV pulled out of the parking lot, hospital lights shrinking behind us.
Numb, I stared out the window, hands pressed protectively over my belly, and knew one terrifying truth with absolute clarity… They weren’t simply trying to scare Maksim anymore.
They were trying to break him.
And I was the weapon they intended to use.