Shadows In Durango
Chapter 41

****Sofia's POV****

The morning light filtering through the curtains felt harsh against my throbbing temples.

I groaned softly, my head pounding relentlessly, a reminder of the chaos of last night.

Slowly, I sat up, feeling disoriented and exhausted. The events of the previous evening flooded back into my mind- losing my job, the break-in at my apartment, Vincent's unexpected kindness in bringing me back here.

It was a lot to digest and I certainly didn't look forward to facing the questions from him today...

I glanced around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of Vincent's spare bedroom that I had slept in previously after the party.

The room was neatly kept, a stark contrast to the messiness of my own life right now.

I suddenly reach up to rub my temples gently again, trying to ease the headache, before I notice a glass of water and some painkillers on the bedside table.

Vincent must have left them for me... he seriously has gone above and beyond for me when I was convinced that he didn't actually even like me at all before. I would have to remember to thank him...

As I reached for the water, a soft knock on the door startled me causing me to freeze. "Sofia? You awake?" Vincent's voice was muffled through the door. "Yeah," I replied, my voice hoarse from last nights crying and stress.

The door creaked open after then, and Vincent stepped inside, holding a bundle of clothes. "Morning," he said quietly, his usual intensity softened by concern. "I brought you some fresh clothes again and you already know how to use the shower." He gestured towards a door in the corner of the room to which I all but nodded slowly.

"Vincent listen... thank you, this really does mean a lot." I murmured softly, taking the clothes from him.

"Take your time," Vincent said. "When you're ready, just come downstairs. I'll make some breakfast and then we can talk." He concludes with a final nod, making me nervous once more for what was yet to come.

I felt overwhelmed by his unexpected kindness. Vincent Walker, the intimidating school bad boy and bar owner who fired me last night, was now offering me sanctuary and a meal.

It was just a whole lot to process...

Vincent lingered for a moment, his gaze searching mine. "I'll see you downstairs," he said finally, before quietly leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Alone again, I let out a shaky breath.

The painkillers began to take effect, dulling the ache in my head. I got up slowly, moving towards the bathroom. As I closed the door behind me, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror- a disheveled version of the girl who had danced at Vincent's bar just hours ago.

The red lipstick was smeared all up the left side of my face to the point I was shocked that Vincent hadn't laughed at me as soon as he walked in.

My hair was severely matted as though I had been viciously attacked by a grizzly bear...

I swallowed hard and instantly turned on the shower, letting the warm water wash away the remnants of last night's turmoil.

The familiarity of the routine was soothing-back under the rainfall shower I had so adored using here after the party at the weekend.

Taking my time to wash my body and hair after what felt like an eternity under the shower, I stepped out, wrapping myself in the towel provided.

I dressed quickly in the clothes Vincent had brought- a simple t-shirt and sweatpants that seemed to belong to him that were a few sizes too big but comforting nonetheless.

I pulled the brush through my hair before scrubbing my teeth with the packaged spare available before I left the room and descended the stairs, the aroma of coffee and bacon greeting me.

Vincent was in the kitchen, focused on cooking breakfast as he motioned for me to sit at the table to which I tucked my hair back and followed his lead.

Vincent set a plate of eggs and bacon down in front of me, along with some toast and a steaming mug of coffee.

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"Eat up," he said, taking a seat across from me. "You'll feel better after."

I picked up my fork, feeling a mix of gratitude and confusion. "Thank you," I said quietly, taking a hesitant bite. The food was warm and comforting, easing the ache in my stomach which wasn't caused from last night but instead was due to my bad eating habits recently.

One meal at school just wasn't enough...

Vincent watched me for a moment in silence, his expression unreadable.

"Sofia," he started, his voice serious yet gentle, "about last night-"

"I'm really sorry for the trouble," I interrupted, feeling the need to apologise for everything that had gone wrong. "I didn't mean to cause you so much upset."

Vincent shook his head, cutting me off. "None of that bullshit was your fault," he said firmly. "You didn't deserve what happened - none of it - even how I acted at the bar." He admits, shocking me.

I blinked back tears, overwhelmed by his unexpected kindness. Vincent Walker, the enigma of a man who had fired me in a fit of rage, was now sitting across from me, offering comfort, understanding and an apology.

"I forgive you, after what you done to help me too, you didn't have to." I tell him truthfully, deleting how he had kicked off at work from my priority list.

"But I'll be able to figure things out," I then say, my voice steadier. "I just... I didn't expect any of that to happen but next time, I'll be prepared for it." I ramble my thoughts as he studies me.

Vincent took a sip of his coffee, his gaze thoughtful as he studied me. "Sofia," he began, his voice measured, "what happened last night... with your apartment and your neighbors... that's not something that just happens to normal people our age you deserve better."

I swallowed hard, setting down my fork. The weight of his gaze made me feel exposed, vulnerable. "It's... complicated," I replied, unsure how much I wanted to reveal.

The truth felt too raw, too personal to share with someone like Vincent, despite his unexpected compassion in the past few hours, I wouldn't risk it all now.

He leaned forward slightly, his expression intense yet strangely gentle. "You don't have to tell me everything," he said softly. "But if there's something you need help with, you can trust me."

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Trust.

The word echoed around in my mind, a reminder of how little I knew about Vincent Walker and his world. He was a man surrounded by mystery and power, someone who wielded influence effortlessly. Could I trust him with my fragile story, with the truths I had hidden for so long?

I just wasn't ready...

"I appreciate everything you've done Vincent," I replied carefully, avoiding his probing gaze. "But some things... I need to figure out on my own."

"I won't let you go back to that apartment Sofia. You'll stay here." He instantly steps in, catching me off guard as I stare back at him weirdly.

I can't just move in with him? Sure he had helped me a lot but I didn't even think he liked me much this past week... although he did kiss me, twice... but that was for fun!

As I sat in silence, the weight of last night's events pressed upon me. The loss of my job, the violation of my home- it was a harsh reminder of how fragile my life had become.

"I... I don't know if I can stay here," I stammered, feeling a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. "I appreciate your kindness, Vincent, but I don't want to impose, I have nothing to offer you, I don't have any money now and my job... well you know about that." I swallow, feeling embarrassed to even mention how he had fired me.

He leaned against the chair, his gaze steady on mine. "First of all, you wouldn't be imposing," he replied calmly. "I have plenty of space here and you don't have a choice - I saw your shitty apartment, it was empty Sofia. I can't and I won't send you back to that." He concludes with a serious expression.

"Second of all, I don't need any money from you and as for the money they stole from you, I'll have it returned to you today and about the job, well I don't know about that yet..." He trails off, taking my now empty plate before approaching the sink with it.

"This is your home..." I breathe out, as he shakes his head.

"Yeah and why do you think I invite my friends to live in it? Why do you think I throw parties every weekend? It doesn't feel like a home Sofia, this place is fucking isolating! The more people that live here the better, trust me." He grumbles, his tone suddenly growing sharper than before.

Deciding it would be best not to push him when things were still so raw, I remain silent, finishing my coffee and processing what my next step will be.

Will I stay here? Or is it time to relocate, again...