Page 82 of Sunrise

“I think that just sobered me up.” She climbs out of bed and heads to the bathroom, leaving Vault and I staring at each other.

“Jesus,” he whispers. “I think I almost had a fucking heart attack.”

“She’s been hurt, badly,” I growl, unable to keep my anger in check. “And I must have just triggered her.”

Vault taps his thumb on his leg the way I showed him.

“Pull up that video footage.” I know he has it on his phone.

While Sophie stays in the bathroom, we study the footage from the Monarch Club again and I’m at a loss. Again. The man at the Monarch, and Max, both have dark hair, but it’s not quite the same style. Similar body builds too, but honestly, he’s about the same size as Vault and me. It’s hard to get a full picture with how he’s sitting in the chair on the video. And at my restaurant, his posture wasn’t anything special.Thump-tha-thump. I zero in on him tapping his thigh in the video.Thump-tha-thump.

“It’s the same exact rhythm, but I can’t tell if it’s the same man or not.”

We rewatch it two more times before thebathroom door swings open, and Vault quickly closes out of the program and puts his phone away. “How are you feeling, baby?”

“Ridiculous.” She climbs back in bed. “If I promise to not take a swing at you, will you guys still lay with me?”

“Honey, you can do anything that will make you feel safe. Don’t worry about us. We can take a beating.” I scoot up to her right side. Vault takes her left.

It’s nearly one in the morning and my eyes fucking burn.

“You want to talk about it?” I ask, already guessing her answer.

“Tomorrow,” she whispers. “Tonight, I just need you guys to hold me.”

We each band an arm around her.

She smiles with her eyes shut. “I love that you two are back in a happy place.”

Vault kisses her temple. “Youare our happy place, Sunrise.”

My heart instinctively rebels hearing that nickname, but he’s right. She is our happy place.

Our Sunrise.

And I think she’s got more secrets than both of us combined.

Chapter 26

Sophie

My head is pounding. Holy shit, it hurts to blink. Rolling over, I catch the faint scent of Vault’s cologne on my pillow. Why do I smell him?

Wait.

Wading through my foggy, fragmented, hungover memories, I slowly piece together the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday feels like it was a month long with everything that’s happened.

“Oh no.” I grip my head and let my actions sink in.

I got fired. Drunk. Vault and Knox came over. My aching gaze sails to the end table that’s hosting a busted lampshade. I sort of remember throwing it at someone last night.

Shame and regret sink into me.

Scrubbing my face, my fucking eyeballs are like bruised balls of jelly. My mouth is dry. Tongue is sandpaper. I’ve never been drunk before, and I never want to be drunk again. I don’t like that I can’t remember things clearly. Not to mention a hangover is what I imagine getting hit by a truck feels like. This is awful.

Noise downstairs rips me into action. Logically, I know it’s the guys, but what if it isn’t?

No. It is. I can hear Vault’s smokey voice talking low.

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