I Ran From My Psycho Step-brother Straight Into The Alpha's Lap novel Chapter 47

**When Night Grows Softer Hope Returns To Lead Us by Asa Rowan Finn**

Sophie found herself enveloped in a heavy silence, her senses dulled and her mind struggling to grasp the chaos around her. At first, there was nothing but the pounding of her heart, a drumbeat of anxiety echoing in her ears. Then, like thunder breaking the stillness, Torin’s furious voice cut through the air. “I will kill everybody in this shop if you don’t let me get to her.” His words were fierce, a storm of anger that sent chills down her spine.

She caught snippets of muffled conversation, voices blending into a haze of confusion, but the details eluded her. All she could focus on was Torin’s unwavering intensity. “Try me,” he growled, a challenge that hung in the air like a dark cloud. Sophie felt an urge to rise, to intervene, to somehow defuse the situation before it spiraled further into madness. Yet, her legs betrayed her, trembling like jelly beneath her.

Moments later, Torin was before her, his presence a fierce shield against the chaos. His eyes roamed over her, a fierce determination etched into his features as he searched for any sign of harm. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a low rumble filled with barely contained fury. Sophie managed a nod, the action feeling like a monumental effort. “Let’s get you out of here,” he commanded, his hand gently but firmly grasping her elbows as he pulled her to her feet. She swayed, her balance faltering, but somehow, she steadied herself against his strength. He maintained his grip on one elbow, guiding her around a corner. “Don’t look,” he instructed, his tone brooking no argument.

But it was too late. Her eyes betrayed her, drawn to the horrific scene before her. Two men lay sprawled on the floor, their lifeless eyes fixed on the ceiling, as if searching for answers in the void above. One of them had a gaping hole in his chest, while the other’s neck twisted at a grotesque angle. Blood painted the floor in a gruesome tableau, and a wave of nausea surged within Sophie, her stomach churning as her legs buckled beneath her. Just as the world began to spin, she doubled over, emptying her stomach onto the cold, hard floor. Torin, unwavering, pulled her along, but the sickness surged again, and she retched a second time. By this point, her legs were no longer her own; Torin was practically carrying her, dragging her through the shop as if she were weightless. No one stopped them as they fled the horror behind.

When they reached the front door, Max swung it open, his expression a mix of urgency and concern. Garret was there too, quickly ushering her outside and into the waiting car. He opened the door, and with a gentle yet firm hand, helped her inside. Sophie leaned her head against the cool leather seat, shutting her eyes tightly, desperate to block out the images that haunted her mind. She heard Torin speaking to Max, his voice low and urgent, but the words faded into the background as she fought to regain her composure.

“Are you okay?” Max’s gruff voice broke through her fog.

“Yes,” she whispered, though the word came out garbled, barely recognizable even to her own ears.

A few moments later, Torin slid into the passenger seat beside her, tension radiating from him. “Let’s go,” he instructed Max, his focus shifting to Sophie. “Helen’s okay.” He turned to her, and Sophie felt the weight of his gaze, though she struggled to focus on his words.

“She’s in shock,” she heard someone say, the voice indistinct and distant. It might have been Torin or Max; she couldn’t tell.

Sophie tried to retreat into her mind, blocking out the cacophony of sounds that swirled around her. Her ears were still ringing, and her stomach continued to roll like a turbulent sea.

Eventually, the car came to a jarring halt. The door swung open, and Torin leaned over her, unbuckling her seatbelt with a swift, practiced motion. Before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her inside with a determination that left no room for argument. “Is she okay?” Madison’s voice floated to her, laced with concern.

“She’s in shock. I think she’s okay, but I need you to check to be sure,” Torin replied, his voice steady yet urgent. “Kyle informed you of what went down?”

Sophie didn’t catch Madison’s response, her mind still foggy from the ordeal. “I need you to stay here and be with Sophie,” Torin instructed. “Max and I will head to the police station and sort out this mess. I’ll make sure the guys get home tonight.”

Madison murmured something else, but Sophie was too lost in her own world to register it. Her stomach churned again, a familiar wave of nausea rising, and she knew she had to escape the chaos for a moment. She stood, legs shaky beneath her, and made her way to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet, she heaved for what felt like an eternity, but when nothing else came up, she splashed cold water on her face and brushed her teeth, the minty freshness a small comfort against the turmoil within her.

As she emerged from the bathroom, she found Torin standing in the hallway, his phone pressed to his ear. “Yeah,” he said curtly before hanging up and striding over to her. “I have to go. Another of my guys is going to come stay with you and Madison. He’ll make sure you’re safe.”

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