𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

𝟏𝟖 | 𝐂𝐥𝛐𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 ⅋ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝚸𝐚𝐬𝐭

The screech of tires and the blinding flash of headlights snapped me back to the present. A car had pulled up abruptly, and I barely registered the sound of someone shouting angrily at Nick. He released his grip on me, and I crumpled to the ground, too numb and shaken to process the chaos unfolding around me. My vision blurred, and the world around me felt distant, almost as if I were floating outside myself, too paralyzed to make sense of what was happening.

A warm hand gently touched my shoulder, breaking through the haze of fear that clouded my mind. I blinked, trying to focus, and saw Lando kneeling beside me, his face filled with worry and concern. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of Nick lying sprawled on the ground, subdued and disoriented, while flashing red and blue lights bathed the street, harsh and dizzying. Police officers sprang from their cars, arresting Nick and scattering the remaining men as they attempted to flee.

I looked up into Lando's eyes and, unable to contain my fear and relief, burst into tears. He pulled me into a comforting hug, wrapping his arms tightly around me.

"It's okay, Sophie," he whispered softly, his voice filled with reassurance. "You're safe now. I'm here. They can't hurt you anymore." His calm and steady presence began to ground me, easing the terror that had held me captive. Despite everything that had happened between us, I felt immensely grateful he was here now. He gently helped me to my feet, and when I stumbled, he held me steady.

He looked at my face, wincing as he saw the swelling on my cheek. "Your cheek... does it hurt much?" he asked, his voice tender yet worried. I managed a small shake of my head, though the pain was throbbing beneath the surface. He took off his coat and draped it over my shoulders, shielding me from the cold as if he could also shield me from everything that had just happened.

Lando spoke briefly with one of the officers, explaining he'd bring me home and provide a statement later. Guiding me gently to his car, he opened the door and buckled me in before getting into the driver's seat himself. I noticed a police car following behind as we drove, ensuring we arrived safely. Within minutes, we pulled up to George's house, where he came rushing out, worry etched across his face.

"Sophie! Are you okay? What happened? I was so worried when Lando called me and said you hadn't shown up at the airport," he said, pulling me into a hug. I couldn't bring myself to answer his questions, my voice choked by emotion as I held onto him tightly. He guided me inside, where I collapsed onto the couch, feeling drained and overwhelmed. Lando came in shortly after, having spoken with the officer, and took a seat beside me, gently taking my hands in his.

He met my gaze, remorse filling his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Sophie. This is all my fault. I should've been there sooner. I was relieved when I saw your call, but then I heard all the noise... I knew something was wrong."

I looked at him, confused. "Wait, I... I called you?" I asked in a small, shaky voice, trying to piece together fragments of the night.

He nodded. "Yes, you called, and I heard... I heard you crying out, then a man's voice, and I knew you needed help. I called the police immediately. When I found you, those men were all around you. I... I'm so sorry, Sophie." His voice broke slightly, his regret palpable.

George, who had been listening quietly, broke the silence. "Will someone please tell me what happened?" he demanded, his voice tight with concern. "What were you doing out there, Sophie? And how did things go so wrong?"

Lando took a deep breath and began explaining, recounting how he'd gone to the airport, only to find I'd left. He had driven along the route toward George's house, searching for any sign of me, when he got my call. "I could hear her crying and struggling. Then I finally saw her—those men were all over her, and one was... he was..." Lando's voice trailed off, clearly disturbed by the memory. He clenched his hands into fists, as if still angry at the sight he had witnessed.