6. Sophia

6

SOPHIA

S tairs continue to be my nemesis. But I take them every opportunity I get, per my physical therapist's instructions. She has some motivational quote from Aristotle about how we are what we repeatedly do or something.

I get the general idea.

Voices get louder and louder as I reach the bottom of the stairs, and I glance through the glass sliding doors into the reception area. Beyond it, I see bikes. Lots and lots of bikes.

Dawn, the manager of the facility, is in a heated discussion with Irv. "There are at least thirty people in there. It's only four guests per person, max." Her words are aggressively whispered.

Irv puts his hands up. "Better to let them in and do what they do on good terms than try to keep them all out," I overhear him say.

"I would never have accepted him as a patient if I'd known he was a—Sophia," she says, her face changing as if she hadn't been about to bad-mouth Theo.

Irv glances up at me. "Probably best to avoid the visitors' room right now," he says. "It's Theo's birthday and he's got company."

I wish he'd mentioned it when our paths crossed in physio yesterday. Not that I could do much, but I could have perhaps ordered him a cake or gotten someone to bring a card.

"I'm on my way to the pool," I say.

"Let me walk you there," Irv says.

"It's okay, I'm good." And curious.

The door is open, the volume getting louder. And holy sex on legs. There are lots of men in leather. And girls. Well, women. And some have cuts that say things like Property of Saint .

If I didn't know Theo was in that room, I think I'd be scared of them all.

Two men stand just by the door but are facing into the room, so they don't see me. One has wide shoulders and hair that is part braid, part undercut. The other has shorter hair. Both wear leather vests that say Iron Outlaws on them.

"You think the Mafia has the edge over the Irish?" the one with shorter hair asks.

The one with longer hair flexes the fingers on his right hand, then forms a fist before repeating the motion. "Last night would say so. Cillian isn't going to go down without a fight though. It's rare for the five families to come together like this."

I feel a little sick at the thought. Is my father and the Sicilian Cosa Nostra part of this? I wonder if knowing the truth would make me more or less fearful than I am right now.

"Hey," says a pretty woman with pale skin and kind eyes. "Did you need something from in here?"

I shake my head. "No. It's fine. I just wanted to wish Theo happy birthday, but I can do it later."

"Oh, come in. We brought him cake. I'm Rae."

My hip and leg ache, and the movement and warmth of the pool help. "I should go get on with my swim. It's?—"

"King," she says to the devilishly handsome, if a tad sinister, man standing next to her. "Tell Switch to get over here."

King nails me with brilliant blue eyes that contrast to his tan skin, then walks away.

"Honestly, it's better if I?—"

She grabs my arm before I finish. "Red velvet or chocolate sponge with vanilla cream?"

It's ten in the morning, and I can already see there are at least five bottles of alcohol open. But there are bikes outside. I hope they aren't planning on driving anywhere soon.

Or maybe they're planning on staying here all day. I can't imagine what Dawn would say about that.

Theo appears before me, and he's wearing a leather vest like the others that says Switch on it. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but he looks uncomfortable.

"You shouldn't be in here, Sparrow."

I feel myself shrink inside. I know I shouldn't be. "I'm sorry. I just…well…happy birthday."

"Sparrow, huh?" The man next to us wears a name badge that says Clutch . "You been through the wars too, kid?" he asks.

"Not so much a war as a duel between me and my car versus a tree. The tree won."

Clutch laughs at that. "I like you," he says.

"I very much prefer that to the alternative." I turn to look at Theo. "I'm sorry for showing up uninvited. It was rude."

"It's okay," Rae says. "We brought plenty of food. Stay and have some. Theo told us how strict they are about nutrition. One day of treats won't hurt."

I want to stay with my whole heart. I want to talk with people who aren't my family. It's the closest I've ever been to a party that I can remember. There's a vibration to the energy.

I don't think I've ever seen a collection of such goddamn perfect women either. They're all different shapes and sizes, but they all have one thing in common.

They're all pretty.

Someone jostles me from behind. Two bikers.

It's an accident, but I can't take that much weight on my left side, and I feel my leg collapse as I crumple to the floor. Fear spirals through me, the move happening in slow motion. Flailing out my hands, I reach for something to brace my fall. Theo rushes forward to try and grab me. A slow shout from Rae.

The absolute silence when I hit the corner of a side table before falling to the ground with an ungainly thud and a cry of pain.

Tears sting my eyes.

There's a muttered curse.

I just want to die. Or at least crawl away and hide under a rock or something.

"Fuck," Theo barks, shoving his way through the crowd before leaning forward to pick me up. He takes a step, then another. I feel his arms shaking as sweat pops on his brow.

I worry about the stress of pressure on his brain.

"I can walk," I whisper.

"Shut up, Soph." He grunts with exertion.

I'm heavy. He's weakened by his accident. But somehow, he manages to get me to the sofa, where he lays me down gently. He shakes his head, winces, and then rubs his brow.

"Are you hurt?" he asks. "Do you need me to get one of the doctors?"

I shake my head. "If you could find my pride, that might help. I think it rolled under the bookshelves over there somewhere." I try to smile, to fake that I'm fine while my body shakes.

"Don't," he says.

His eyes are focused on me. It's a cliché to say it's as if there is no one else in the room. But for a hot moment, I understand why a person might think that.

It's like there's a protective bubble around us. I suppose that's what this place is for us. A safe space to find out who we're going to be without outside interference.

"Don't what?" I ask.

"Pretend. Make light of this. I'm going to ask you once more and I want an honest answer. Are you hurt, Sophia?"

"Man, I'm so sorry." A tall man, whose patch says he is called Saint, leans over the back of the sofa. "I didn't mean to knock you down."

Theo's head snaps towards him. "I'm gonna kick your ass in ten minutes. Give her some fucking space."

Saint raises his hands as he moves away.

Fast anger should probably be a red flag or something. But to know a man would fight for me and over me is…exciting.

And just like that, I'm aroused.

Which is wild.

It's not the first time it's happened. And it won't be the first time I've gone back to my room and slid my fingers between my legs. But all thoughts of sex have been put second to actual recovery and life.

There's also something in Theo's demeanor that changed in that moment. Like he was drawing on muscle memory. I can't really explain it. But I saw a flicker of the man he could have been before his accident. A man who would fit in with this group of people. He was utterly competent. Unafraid. Commanding.

Even the timbre of his voice changed, the notes of it dropping lower in register.

"It hurt," I whisper. "And I'm a little embarrassed, maybe. That I couldn't rebalance myself. That your friends, a room full of strangers, saw me fall. That you might…think less of me."

"You forget that I clung to you like a life raft in the hallway when I…collapsed. The only people in this room that understand what we're going through is you and me."

Theo brushes my hair back off my face and attempts to remove hair that's stuck in the elastic of my eye patch. He lifts it slightly, and I place my hand over it to stop him.

"It doesn't bother me, Soph. Just let me."

The urge to trust him battles with my need to be seen as who I was before. I wish he could see me without all the scars. The woman in the photographs my family has shown me.

I bet she was unafraid of what the mirror showed.

I watch his face for reactions. But not only do I see nothing but genuine care, he uses his hands to shield my face as he does so.

"Done," he says, lowering my eye patch so gently that I barely feel it.

"I was on my way to the pool. Do you know where my towel ended up?" I try to sit, but Theo places his hand gently on my neck, his thumb stroking me in a way that makes me shiver.

He leans close, our faces inches apart. "Stay and have cake with me."

"It's very early in the morning for so much sugar." His body is pressed against mine. I know there are other people in the room, and from the silence, I can only assume they are all listening to us intently, but I can't bring myself to look away from Theo and check.

"We both nearly died, Soph. I think that makes it perfectly…" He shakes his head. "Fucking words. Makes it perfectly acceptable to live like we mean it from now on. Eat. The. Cake."

"Fine," I say, but the word is a little breathier than I intended.

Theo grins, then bites down on his lower lip. "Think I'm going to have fun corrupting you," he says.

"I look forward to it," I say without thinking.

His eyes narrow. Then he stands and helps me to my feet but doesn't let go of my hand. "Brothers," he says loudly. "This is Sophia. She"—he pauses for a moment—"makes this place bearable."

There are words of welcome, and eventually the chatter returns to the levels it was at before I arrived.

I touch his temple. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugs. "Headache lasted until about two this morning. Feel hungover, to be fair."

"What's hungover?"

"You don't know?"

"Amnesia, remember? I don't remember things I've done. So, it takes it coming up in conversation. I didn't know what pets were. Dr. Sharma kept talking about Micah being up all night, and I thought she had a child, but it turned out it's a rather noisy pug."

Theo chuckles at that. "A hangover is where you drink too much alcohol, and about twelve hours later, your body pays you back. Your head hurts, sometimes you're sick."

"You poison yourself?"

"How can you know what poison is but not know what a hangover is?"

"True crime mysteries have become my friend. But it sounds like that's what a hangover is. A poisoning."

He looks over at the bottles on the table. "When you put it like that, it does sound a bit reckless."

"How do you remember?"

"Because I've only lost the past decade, and I got into a whole lot of trouble before that."

I glance at all the leather cuts in the room. "I can believe it."

Saint reappears. "Meant no disrespect, Switch," he says. "And sorry again, Sophia. Just me and Spark fooling around and didn't see you behind us. You okay?"

"It's okay. I'm good."

He offers me his hand. "I'm Saint. Or Ryker. Use whatever makes you more comfortable."

I shake his hand. "Nice to meet you."

A young woman, younger than he is, tucks herself under his arm. "And I'm Briar. Actually, Rose, but I'd really prefer it if you called me ‘Briar.'"

"I'm Sophia. Would love a cool second name. It feels like a secret identity."

"Stick around long enough, and someone will give you one," says a cute blonde with a baby bump and service dog.

"I'm Spark," says the man standing next to her. "This is my old lady, Iris."

The term old lady rankles me a little, and I don't know why. But from the way he looks at her as he speaks, I can see he adores her.

Slowly but surely, I'm introduced to everyone.

"This is Vex," Theo says. "My best friend."

"Too right," Vex says with a wide smile. "If you want to know any secrets about him, I can tell you."

"That feels like an unfair advantage given I won't know if they're true or not," Theo says.

Vex laughs loudly. "That sounds like even more fun."

"It's really nice to meet you, Vex. I've seen the two of you together before. You came to eat with Theo one night, but you weren't wearing this." I gesture to his cut.

Vex brushes a hand over his patches. "Rare I'm without it, but it needed a repair."

"Maybe you can convince Theo to join movie night once a week."

Theo glances at me, his eyes soft and kind, and shakes his head. "Still a nope."

"I'll make a social joiner out of you yet," I say.

Vex shakes his head. "You won't make his stubborn ass do anything he doesn't want to. I've tried to get him to game with me, but the guy won't even pick up a controller."

"Asshole," Theo mutters with humor before turning to the final woman near us. "This is Catalina. Recently married to Niro."

"Congratulations." I shake Catalina's hand as Niro turns around, and I'm taken by his scar that almost mirrors mine. Except he still has his eye.

His brow furrows as he studies me. I'm sure it's only seconds, but it feels like minutes as he follows the line on my face, likely having thoughts that match my own.

"As a general rule, I don't like people," he says, shaking my hand. "But you, I'm gonna make an exception for."

"Can I…?" I reach my hand toward his face. "I know it's rude, but…mine feels so…Will it always…?"

Niro takes my hand and leads it the rest of the way to his scar and runs my fingers along it. "You feel yours if you press your tongue against your cheek?"

I nod.

"Yeah, that doesn't go away. But eventually it won't hurt…just tugs a little when you yawn and shit."

His feels smoother, less hard, less hot.

"You got pretty lips, sweetheart," he says. "You got lucky it missed ‘em." He reaches for Catalina's hand and brings it to his lips before kissing it. "About five percent of my mouth feels nothing when I do that, and it sucks."

Catalina smiles. "Good thing the remaining ninety-five percent is so proficient."

Niro glances at Catalina, and I can feel the love they have for each other. "Only with you, babe."

I turn to Theo. This morning might have got off to a rocky start, but I decide that in this moment, I'm choosing to enjoy my life. "You mentioned something about cake. I feel like today calls for some."

Theo playfully taps the end of my nose. "Good. Let's get you a slice."

"I hope you face fairer weather in the future, Sophia," Niro says.

And I smile because I do too.