Find all the parts of this story here.

Chapter 2: Let’s Dance

Part 4: Sam

Sophie visibly bristled at Sam’s domineering tone. Okay, so maybe he didn’t need to talk down to her as if she was a child, but his patience had worn so thin at this point that he didn’t school his words like he probably should have. He sighed and dropped his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I apologize, Miss Lane. That was rude of me. But I would like to have a conversation with you about your seeming lack of basic safety precautions,” he tried again.
Crud. Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she blinked furiously.

“All right,” she whispered. Without another word, she gathered her things and headed toward a little side closet, flipping on her phone’s flashlight. The warehouse plunged into darkness, and Sam reflexively pulled out his own little powerful pen light.

“Miss Lane?”

She paused, one hand on the doorknob, and turned to look at him.

“I just want you to notice that your hands are full, you only have a dim light, and you’re about to walk outside into a dark area. Do you see how vulnerable to attack you are?”

Confusion furrowed her brow, but she dutifully looked down at her hands, then out the window into the darkness.

“I… Oh. Um…” she stuttered, then ducked her head. “I never thought of that. Everyone here seems nice.” There was a pleading undertone in her voice – she didn’t want to believe anyone would hurt her.

“I’d love to promise everyone in Williamson is a saint, but all the people in the church pews and the existence of my job would argue otherwise,” he pointed out gently.

Sophie chewed on her lip as she pondered his words. She shifted nervously before looking back at him.

“So what should I do instead?” she asked.

Sam’s heart warmed at the question. He felt an inexplicable sense of pride at her humility and resilience. She didn’t scoff, or argue, or crumble. She recognized she had room to learn, and accepted his knowledge. It made him feel 10 feet tall.

“Assuming the warehouse setting remains the same, don’t leave alone. And neither should any of your friends, for that matter. Leave in a group. That way one or more people can hold lights while you have to turn your back on the parking lot to lock up the space.”

She nodded along. “Stay in a group. Get a better flashlight. What else?”

“Lock the door while you’re inside. I didn’t hear you unlock it when I arrived.”

“No, it was unlocked for everyone to arrive.”

“Did you all arrive in daylight?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good. What else… Park closer to the building. No need to leave all that open dark space between you and your car. Have your car keys in your hand before you unlock the interior door to leave.”

Sophie cocked her head. “How am I supposed to carry everything and have my car keys out?”

“That’s what your friends are for. Everyone should have a hand free,” Sam encouraged.

“Oh,” she mumbled softly. Sam just shook his head.

“Come on. I’ll walk out with you.” He gestured to the door, then followed her out. Sophie turned her back on the parking lot with her full arms and awkwardly punched in the code to lock the door. Sam resisted rolling his eyes at her fumbling movements, but kept watch over her in the dark parking lot. Then he drove behind her as she made her way the few miles to her frightfully dark neighborhood.

Why had a single woman with no sense chosen to live here? Maybe he just answered his own question…

Outside the front door of the building, she paused, suddenly looking shy.

“Did you want to, uh, come up?” she asked, biting her lip.

“If you don’t mind, yes, please.” He thought about launching into some thoughts about her building, but kept those to himself – for now.

“Sure…” She opened the front door, which was totally unsecured, and entered a dingy 70’s lobby, complete with worn orange carpeting. Gross. They walked past mailboxes, then up a narrow staircase to the second floor. After a quick left turn at the top, she approached an end unit.

“Is there another way down? A second staircase?” Sam couldn’t help but ask. His brother Ryan, a firefighter, had drummed the importance of multiple egress points into his head.

“No, just the one,” Sophie replied offhand, juggling her multiple bags again and searching out her apartment key. The hallway lighting was dim, and Sam imagined she worked more by feel than sight.

His first impression of her apartment was that she was making the best she could of the worst situation possible. They stepped immediately into the living room. Thin, worn carpeting that could have been gray or brown rested under his feet. A cheerful but weathered plaid two-seater couch sat on the wall to the right. A coffee table, dented and scratched but clean, rested in front of it.

To the left of the living room was a tiny galley kitchen with ugly once-yellow cabinets, some missing their handles. The stove and fridge were tan 90’s plastic. Straight ahead was a wall with two doors, which he assumed led to the bedroom and bathroom. No natural light made it to the living room and kitchen, and Sam had to wonder how much time she actually spent here.

“Uh… I don’t have coffee, but do you want some tea?” Sophia asked, setting down her bags on the kitchen counter. She looked nervous, and Sam felt a little bad about that. He realized he had been awfully judgmental in his frustration about her safety.

“No, but thank you. I shouldn’t stay long. I…” Now he hesitated. How to say these things without hurting her feelings too much? Because it surely would hurt at least a little.

“Miss Lane…” he began, then sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s okay with me if you call me Sophie,” she suggested quietly, shifting from one foot to the other in her kitchen doorway.

“Sophie,” Sam tested the name, enjoying how it felt rolling off his tongue. Nope, focus on the task at hand.

“Look, I don’t want to freak you out, but I get the impression you didn’t have to think much about your safety growing up,” he hedged.

“You would be correct,” Sophie acknowledged. “I’ve never seen anything bad happen in my hometown, even, let alone my neighborhood.”

“What about college? Surely you had to learn some basics at college.”

“I, uh, lived at home and commuted,” Sophie admitted, biting her lip as if that was something to be ashamed of.

“Good way to save money, I imagine,” Sam commented with a smile. Sophie just nodded, but said no more.

“Okay. Here’s the deal, Sophie. You don’t live in a safe neighborhood. In fact, you live in the worst neighborhood in Williamson.” He paused a minute while she winced and chewed her lip again. “Surely you’ve heard the sirens and noticed the frequency of the police driving through your neighborhood or even having to come into this building.”

“I have,” she whispered.

“I’d hate for you to go blithely through your days thinking it will never happen to you and then find yourself the victim of a crime that could have been avoided.” Another wince, but she glanced up and nodded. “I’ll go through a few things right now, but could we get together again and talk about personal safety some more, please?”

Sophie’s brow furrowed, and she hesitated before speaking.

“You’d do that? Why?”

Sam couldn’t help smiling. “I don’t like the idea of you being hurt,” he finally settled on saying. Confusion was written all over Sophie’s face before she blanked her expression and nodded.

“All right. What do I need to know?”