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⟡ tomorrow never came

{summary: Hollis’ murder shakes the island and Sofia knows it’s only a matter of time before Shoupe follows the evidence back to her. It doesn’t matter that she’s innocent…she’s an easy target. Especially since she’s quit her job at Rafe’s behest. And now that he’s kicked her out, she only has one person she can turn to…their old friend Barry. He’d know how to help her…}

{a/n: Another bafia fic! This time from Sofia’s pov…does this count as smut? Idk. But it’s a lot more explicit than what I usually write }

{warnings: nsfw, guns, depictions of sex, infidelity}

/ Honey, don't ignore me / I just wanted it to be the same / You said you'd love me like no tomorrow / I guess tomorrow never came /

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The Sheriff had tried to find Sofia at the country club.

Well, at least quitting her job gave her one leg up in all of this. But still, if it wasn’t for Rafe she wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

Hollis was dead. Not just dead. She was murdered.

And the circumstances were just as murky as any other godforsaken mystery on this island.

No leads as of yet. An investigation is underway. Keep calm. Justice will be served.

Sofia had heard whisperings it was JJ Maybank. But she knew people were just gunning to blame the usual suspect. What did Hollis and JJ have to do with each other?

It was her number in Hollis’ call logs. It was her name on the contract. It was Sofia who had reasonable suspicion and a motive for it all.

A bad business deal. A low payout. Calls littered with aspersions and shady meetings on her yacht.

Sofia threw her head back against the leather seat of her car and winced. This was bad. Real fucking bad. And she had not a single person to turn to.

All she wanted to do was hide away under Rafe’s arm and ask him to make it all go away. He’d do it for her. He’d protect her.

Would he? A little voice murmured, crawling out from a crevice in her head.

It was because of him she was in this situation right now. So why would he be the one to save her from it?

Sofia didn’t have time to worry about her ex fiancé. He wasn’t even on the island right now, so regardless of whether or not she wanted to go to him, ready to kneel and beg like the good for nothing mutt she was— staring up with the same eyes she’d give when she was sucking him off, hoping that he’d comply and break, forgetting betrayal, remembering devotion— she couldn’t.

So she needed to pivot. Fast.

And that’s what led her here, sitting in her car, watching the mossy leaves of the live oaks feather over Barry’s house as the sun disappeared from the sky.

She remembers the taste of bonfire smoke. Salty air. Buzzed from the endless flow of drinks.

Yeah man, got’a job at the docks now. Leavin’ all this kook ass shit for good.

She makes eye contact with him across the flickering ribbons of fire. He smiles at her. He always smiles at her. Rafe rustles on her left.

That kook ass shit got you a hell of a discount on your new place bro.

She perks up.

You moved?

He nods, keeping his dark eyes on her.

Yeah. Nice place over by the lighthouse.

She can tell he’s acting indifferent, but leaving the Cut is a big deal. She knows it. He knows it.

Congrats Barry! That’s great!

His stare drags over her longer than it usually does. The fire continues to burn.

She had to ask around for the exact address.

Sofia pretended she was his cousin who was visiting and she'd simply gotten lost on the way. When you lied sweetly people always drank it right up, she’d learned. And that sugary affectation was almost second nature to her now.

His bike in the yard confirmed she got the right place. So Sofia parked far away and surveilled the house, working up the courage to approach it.

Barry was scary. Barry could be mean. Barry had a big shotgun he wasn’t afraid to use.

Over the years, Sofia picked up bits and pieces of him and Rafe’s history— collected like her little trinkets— from murmurings at the country club to snatches of their conversations whenever he would come around. So she knew about how he’d worked up a nice deal with the Sheriff’s department, selling Rafe out all those years ago.

Barry could protect himself.

That meant he could protect her too.

And besides, after Shoupe confirmed he was in fact on her tail, Sofia was desperate. So she swallowed her anxiety and let it thrum inside, leaving the safety of her car.

As she waded out into the dark expanse of Barry’s front yard, she regretted her choice of clothing instantly. Long grass slithered up her bare legs like the ground was reaching up for her. The cicadas droned and the insects trilled, whirring like alarm bells as the night slowly enveloped the island. And all she could do was wrap her arms around herself, cursing the thin fabric of her halter top that did little to warm her skin.

A shuddered breath left her throat. Sofia trudged forward past the weeds.

When she reached the forty ft. mark, the motion-sensor lights caught her. So Sofia picked up her pace, hoping to God he wouldn’t blow her head straight off.

The curtains in the window billowed. The porch was right there.

In less than a second, Barry’s front door swung open, and he stood, gun in clutch, face eaten by shadows. She froze, bathed in the outpour of the white artificial light and suddenly, it felt like she was on the phone again. After everything I did for you? Small, vulnerable and dripping with inertia, at the mercy of a trigger-happy man.

“Barry, it’s me.”

Sofia endeavoured to remain calm, trying to inject a lightheartedness in her tone that fell obviously flat, leaving her sounding like a chirruping animal.

“Sofia? What the fuck are doin’ creepin’ around here?”

She hissed a relieved breath when he pointed the gun away.

“Can I come in?”

She remembers when she was sick. Skin on fire. Doped up on pain meds.

Rafe's away on a business trip for the weekend.

I’m not feeling too good. When will you be back? I need you.

Shit Sof, I won’t be back ‘til Monday. It’s okay baby, just rest. I’ll get you some antibiotics.

So he sends him over to check up on her.

He finds her in Rafe’s bed half delirious. Swaddled in blankets. Drenched in sweat. Shivering like a storm-caught power line.

He holds her up while she flops against him. Two fingers push the capsule in her mouth. Her tongue laps at the digits.

For a second she imagines he’s Rafe.

You’re back baby? I thought there were no flights available?

She holds him like he’s Rafe. Like he’s her lover. He wipes the sweat from her brow. She could’ve sworn his lips brush her too.

But maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

Shhhh it’s okay. Go to sleep. Thats’a good girl. Go to sleep.

“And you want my help?” Barry’s voice was deadpan as he eyed her like a rattlesnake in the grass, wondering whether he should stay still or take a step back.

“I don’t know. I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know who to go to.”

They were in his living room. He sat in the arm chair, legs kicked up on the coffee table while she hovered opposite him on the couch. It was the same one from the trailer, she noticed.

The room smelled of weed and patchouli and cigarette smoke. Still, it was mostly clean, decorated with abstract picture frames she didn’t understand and a wall full of books. Some new, others old.

“You’re being paranoid. It’s not like you actually killed her… right?”

Her face contorted like she was about to be sick, “of course not! But it looks like I did. I’m not stupid— pogues always get the shit end of the stick on this island. And I’ve quit my job because of him, so now it looks like I’m running away from something too. It’s not paranoia, Barry. I thought you’d understand that.”

He considered what she said with a calm, unaffected expression.

His hair was longer. And damp. He must’ve had a shower earlier. It curled around his nape in a way that made you want to trace the shape of it, following the slope of his neck. Sofia quickly looked away.

“Why don’t you throw him under the bus? They’ve got reason to suspect him too. And trust me, Rafe has plenty of skeletons in the closet that’ll get Shoupe feelin’ some typa way.”

Sofia ignored the implication. She didn’t like it when people mentioned those ‘skeletons’. But aside from that, Barry’s idea was terrible. She thought he’d be more helpful than this.

So she scoffed, settling deeper into the couch, “how am I supposed to do that? He’s not here to take the fall. And besides, he can protect himself. And then he’d ruin me.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot, huh?” He sounded amused. Did he think this was funny?

Anger started to enlace her words. “I have to. Otherwise I’m fucked.”

“No you’re not. You’re fine.” His disregard began to stab at her.

“How do you know that?”

“Because, you’ve done nothin’ wrong. Most innocent people aren’t this neurotic you know.”

“Oh whatever.”

“Go home Sofia. Come back when shit actually hits the fan. Then I’ll consider helpin’ you out.”

“I can’t go home,” she snapped, desperation finally surfacing.

“Why not?”

“Because the Sheriff’s going to try there next. And my parents will know something’s up because I never sleep over. I’m always at Rafe’s.”

“But I thought you said he kicked you out.”

“Yeah. He did,” she muttered, crossing her arms tighter as she sank further into herself. Hearing it out loud was embarrassing...just how easily Rafe had discarded her.

But Barry seemed to not notice her discomfort and continued his needling. “So where have you been stayin’ all this time?”

Sofia froze. His unmoving gaze was like the waft of heat that hit you whenever you got too close to fire. Arid and stinging.

“Please tell me you ignored him and are still shackin’ it up on Figure 8.”

Shame bloomed inside her. Why was he saying it like that? Like it was so obvious. His dark eyes boring into her finally burned, hitting the threshold where she couldn’t take it anymore. So she looked down at the carpet instead.

Sofia had taken her shoes off before coming in. And now she examined her chipped, pink-painted toes, sinking into Barry’s plush rug, way nicer than the matted carpet at the trailer.

“I’ve been sleeping in my car.”

Any trace of humor left him, and she thought she’d retch. “Sofia, are you fuckin’ serious?”

She stayed quiet, not liking when he got mean.

She remembers his trailer. Remnants of smoke. Muggy sunlight on her skin. Surrounded by his scent.

They stay the night. She and Rafe. On account of being drunk.

When she blinks open her eyes she sees a figure in the room.

Rafe?

It turns.

Wrong guy, baby girl.

When he faces her, he looks almost sweet.

I thought you'd prefer the bed.

He's in the middle of getting dressed and her stomach froths with dread. She tries to ignore the thrill mixed in with the slurry.

Did we...?

A grin cracks across his pretty face and she suddenly wants him in bed with her, both half-naked and sun-kissed.

She wants to know how his skin feels sober.

You think I'd mess around with Rafe's girl? I'm jus' gettin' dressed…still my room even if you're sleepin' in it.

He waits a moments and considers her. His syllables soften.

I crashed outside so you don't need to get your panties in a twist, okay?

Her bare legs are stretched out in front of her and she wants to pull at the covers when she realises her dress has ridden up. But his stare makes her freeze.

He laughs as he throws on his T-shirt.

C'mon, time to get up Sofia, I don't have all day.

He leaves her alone in his sun soaked room and eventually she drags herself out of bed.

She spots her shoes— wedge heels with the finicky straps— placed neatly on the floor and imagines him painstakingly unclasping and laying them there for her to find.

Then she slips them back on, stuggling with the buckle.

Barry carried her bags back to the house, grumbling about how stupid she was being while she trailed after him.

“Bar— I can’t stay. That’s not why I came here. I’m not asking for charity.”

The long grass scratched at her shins and gnats circled them both, buzzing incessantly in the white light. The sky was fully dark now, a murky blanket of indigo settling over Kildare. No stars were out yet. Nothing watched over them.

“You asked for help. I’m helpin’ you. So shut up and accept it.”

Sofia felt her frown grow bigger with each passing moment like something was dragging both ends of her lips down.

When they entered his house again, he led her to his bedroom, still holding her bags.

“You can stay here and I’ll take the couch. Bathroom’s down the hall and you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

Barry rattled off some more kindnesses, talking in that soft, gruff way of his. But Sofia couldn’t hear him anymore.

Ringing filled her ears as her vision blurred, tears blearing in her waterline. Everything decided to hit her in the chest at that moment. Standing barefoot in Barry’s new bedroom, swaying like she was going to faint. She was jobless. She was homeless. She’d lost someone who she thought loved her. And now she could potentially be a suspect in a murder case.

Everyone told her to stay away from Rafe. She knew the allegations in his name. That he was a cop killer. That he hurt people. And now she was the same as him. She didn’t want to be. God, she wished she listened.

“Sofia?”

Her name dragged her out of her spiral.

She glanced up at Barry who was watching her again, this time, dark eyes wet with worry.

His concern washing over made her insides twist. As if the possibility of him even caring this much proved to her just how humiliated she should be

Then everything suddenly collapsed in on itself and she cried for the first time in days.

She hadn’t let herself shed tears for Rafe after the phone call. She just packed up and left. But she knew she was going to come undone at some point. And now, shrouding her face from Barry’s, wracked with sobs, whimpering into her hands like she was begging for forgiveness, the seams holding her together slackened, and it all spilled out.

She didn’t want to be here right now. She didn’t want him to see her break.

She was meant to be sweet Sofia. Nice Sofia. The unassuming girlfriend who never got in the way. And now she’d ruined everything and Barry had to bear witness to it all.

She wondered how he looked when he decided to embrace her. Was he reticent and unsure? Was he begrudging and dismissive? Or was he sympathetic and soft, like he was in the recesses of her memory, pushing amoxicillin he’d probably stolen into her open and wanting mouth.

All she felt was his arms cocoon her as he offered up his chest for her to weep into. And she accepted it. Another blessing of his she swallowed whole.

“There’s no need to cry, Sofia. I’m tellin’ you, it’ll be okay.”

She wanted to say he didn’t know that. He was lying. He had no idea what he was on about. But no words left her lips.

Sofia’s body grew limp in his hold.

“Go have a shower. You’ll feel better.” Her murmured into her ear, and she nodded against him.

Barry eventually let her go and when she opened her eyes again, she was alone in the room, her bags laid neatly on his bed.

She remembers the first time she thinks about him like that. The smell of her sweat. Laboured breaths. Bitten lips and cold ceramic.

Rafe falls asleep after he fucks her. And Sofia slips away to the bathroom.

Their brief moment in his trailer reenters her mind.

She wasn’t horrified. She wasn’t ashamed.

She was excited at the sight of him.

She hitches Rafe’s shirt up with one hand and drags two fingers through herself, still wet from her boyfriend’s release.

His image consumes her from the inside out, snatches of stored memories.

Dark brown eyes transfixed on her face. His bare chest lit up by morning sun. The feel of his fingers cool around her mouth.

She imagines those eyes above her, that chest slipping across her own, his fingers being the ones to push inside her, making her struggle to take it all.

When she comes, it’s quiet, teeth nearly drawing blood from her swollen lips.

She pushes her stomach against the cooling basin, shirt bunched up around her waist.

Her fingers are still inside her when she thinks of him again.

Sofia dressed in something comfortable, discarding her halter top and shorts for a T-shirt and some sweatpants.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t consider what to wear when she came over to Barry’s. She noticed he’d stare more whenever she showed extra skin and hoped that pandering to his simple tastes would make him more amenable to the idea of helping her out.

But Barry was being infuriatingly avoidant.

She didn’t want a place to crash at. She wanted a plan that would make all of this shit go away. But Sofia always took what she could get, so she sat down on the edge of his bed, drying her hair with his towel.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

“Sofia?”

“Yeah?"

Barry entered and took a seat in the desk chair opposite her. “How you feelin’ now?”

She nodded, letting the towel drop beside her, “better. Thanks for letting me stay again.”

He didn’t say anything else and looked down, expression indecipherable. Silence lingered for a while before he cleared his throat, “why did you come here Sofia?”

Her mind began to race, insecurity fraying the edges of her thoughts and the urge to run back to her car and drive away became unbearble. He’d changed his mind about her staying the night. He wanted her out of here, just like Rafe. Pack your shit and get out of my house. He’d say those words to her too. And maybe then she'd take the hint and leave the island forever, never burdening anyone else ever again.

“I told you…I had no one else. And you…” she stuttered off, not knowing how to say what she wanted to say without sounding like a lovelorn little girl.

“What? Spit it out.”

His hands were twisting together in front of him like he needed to wrangle something. Sofia could tell he was growing impatient, like he did whenever Rafe kept him waiting.

So she inhaled sharply and opened her mouth, “ever since I got with him, I left everything behind. It’s not like I had much to begin with, but I was lonely. More lonely than before And you didn’t need to be nice to me, but you were. And I appreciated that. More than you know, Barry. And I felt like I could tell you everything. Without feeling judged. Or unsafe.”

He nodded and it looked like it pained him to accept her words, his masseter working as he chewed on his molars. The silence idled as he built up a tension in his face. It made her feel like she was the one being grinded between his jawbone.

Barry finally took a breath, relaxing his features. He was sweet again. Kind almost, in the dimly lit room. “It’s all good Sofia. I just wanted to know if there was— I don’t know…anything else...that brought you here.” A pause. His hands coiled togther. A soft exhale left his lips. “Y'know, outta all the girls Rafe could’ve chosen, I’m glad it was you. I'm glad you're here.”

Sofia smiled and swallowed his acceptance readily. Ever since she was kicked out by Rafe, a pervasive weight clung to her like dried blood. But Barry made her body weightless.

“Oh yeah?" She quipped, giving him a dimpled smile, “first time I’m hearing about this.”

He laughed softly and his long hair tumbled forward, strands the colour of black mangrove bark curling around his face. She wanted to know how it'd feel to tug at it. If it was as soft as it looked. Wanted to know what sound he’d make if she pulled hard.

“If you’re gonna be a brat about it, I’ll retract my statement.”

Sofia bit her lip to stop herself from smiling too hard. “Nuh-uh. No take backs allowed.”

A pointed grin spread across his face, his eyes becoming increasingly darker in the low-lights of his bedroom, like pools of wet molasses. “Guess I’m stuck with you then.”

That same funny feeling fluttered inside Sofia that she’d been trying to ignore for months now. But Rafe wasn’t in the way anymore. And sitting in front of her, Barry looked so so warm. The same Barry who she used to touch herself to.

Her thighs clenched together at the thought.

Sofia eventually decided to stand. Slowly. Warily. Like a fox stalking it's mark.

She wished she’d opted for cuter PJs. Maybe the silky white set...the ones she’d saved for the night Rafe was scheduled to be back.

But from the way Barry was looking at her, you’d think she was wearing nothing at all.

It only took her a couple of strides to reach him, and when she did, she slotted herself in between his open legs, trying to keep the nerves at bay. She planted both hands on the back of the chair to hide how her fingers shook. But he wasn’t looking at her hands.

Barry stared up at her, mouth slightly open, his neck tipped up and bare. This close, she could see his jugular vein buldge and she wished to trace it with the flat head of her tongue.

Sofia dropped her voice making it throaty and raw, as she dragged her lips across the outer shell of his ear. “Yeah. I guess you are stuck with me then.”

Like the contorting body of a snake, Barry’s arms slithered up her ass, palms flat against her clothed skin. “Can I touch you?” He asked, each syllable barely rasped out.

She nodded, nuzzling her cheeks against his, his stubble brushing her as she gasped. Barry's big hands dipped under her shirt, fingers trailing the soft flesh of her hips. He then pulled her into him so she was straddling his legs, as he slid up and cupped her breasts. At first, he was tender, but his ministrations became increasingly more uncontrolled.

He pushed his forehead against hers, forcing Sofia to keep looking at him as he felt her up. A ragged gasp escaped her lips and she nudged her nose into his cheek, tugging hard at his hair when he pinched her nipples.

He moaned out a laugh. “You like that, huh?”

And all she could do was nod against his face, breathing hot and heavy. Panting like she was already about to lose it. “Yeah...”

They continued to paw at each other urgently, lips dragging against their bodies, barely even kissing. He offered up his thigh and she grinded down on it, moaning into his mouth.

When Barry let go, she whined.

He smirked at the sound, kissing the tip of her nose. “No need to cry jus' yet.”

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he hoisted her up in one effortless move, before dropping her onto the bed with a rougish grin.

She'd always wondered how he'd fuck. Would he be as clumsy and unsure as Rafe, or would he be rough and cruel, the same way he fought. It seemed to be a mix of the two, Barry staggering between hesitation and undiluted force.

He swiped his shirt off, and Sofia shamelessly stared up at his chest. At the ridges of his abdomen, at his dark happy trail, at the dull glint of his tooth, flashing gold in the shadows.

He started to make a move on his shorts, before Sofia stopped him.

“Let me, Bar...it's the least I can do.”

Barry's hands fell from the waistband and his pupils gleamed wildly. He looked so serious, standing there above her, but then he let out a breathy laugh and his lips twisted mischeviously. “C'mon then, baby girl.”

The endearment made her pulse around nothing as she complied, slinking on her hands and knees to meet him at the end of the bed.

She gently pulled him out, tracing his hip bones with soft kisses and giggling when she found him already hard, covered in slick, twitching from just her fingertips. And when she took him in her mouth, he sucked in a laboured breath from above, making her hum out another giggle.

While she worked her tongue on his tip, Barry played with her hair, running roughened fingers through her freshly-washed scalp, encouraging her to take more of him.

“That's it Sof, just like that.”

She remembers their first kiss. The taste of brine. The smell of chlorine. Wet nylon digging into her skin.

Rafe storms off after he makes her cry, leaving her alone at his new place.

Not all alone. He sticks around.

She’s in her bikini, still wet from the pool. He approaches her. Sits beside her. Tries to console her.

He’s drunk. Don’t worry ‘bout him.

When she looks up, she has the sudden urge to bridge the gap. And so she does.

One kiss turns to a dozen more. Until she’s on top of him, legs wrapped around his waist, lips messily overlapping.

His hand comes to rest on her naked back, teasing the flimsy straps, before he seems to realise what he’s doing.

Fuck Sofia. Fuck. This never happened. Okay?

He leaves her alone too once he's guaranteed her silence.

She wraps the towel he hands her around herself. The aquamarine surface ripples in the breeze. The sky is slate grey. A bad omen. It's about to rain.

As her tears mix with the pool water, she shivers by herself in the empty, echoing house, feeling an immense loneliness eat at her, from the inside out.

By the time she woke up, dawn had arrived, filtering past the curtains in a cold blue haze. Birds twittered outside as she stretched her sore body, feeling like she was coated in a layer of viscid honey. She turned her head and found herself wrapped up in Barry's embrace.

He looked different while he slept. Younger. Less on edge. She traced the curve of his cheekbone with the soft drag of her fingertips, imagining a ring on the digit, and how the diamond would glint in the early morning light.

Sofia dropped her hand and shuddered before turning to look at the ceiling.

Her phone buzzed on the bedside. It was her dad.

The Sheriff came looking for you. He said he needed to ask you some questions. What did you do mija?

Sofia slipped away from Barry and prayed he wouldn't stir.

Silently, she dressed, collected her bags and left the room, stopping by the kitchen to take some provisions. Barry had said she could help herself to anything, so she did. She only took a reasonable amount for the journey: protein bars, a couple bottles of water, some trail mix. And then carried everything back to her car.

She sometimes would drive all the way up to the highway that left the island, imagining finally flooring it and leaving Kildare behind. The orange skyline and perpetual summer would slowly disappear forever in the dusty silver of her rearview mirror, and she'd look ahead, feeling a lightness imbue her.

Sofia decided today was finally the day she'd carry on driving.

She had enough money saved up and with the 25k Hollis had fronted her, she was set for a while until she got another job. Rafe's ring was still in her pocket too as a safety net.

She could visit Louisiana— she'd always wanted to see New Orleans. Maybe even go home to Mexico. Say hello to her cousins. The plan was still fuzzy in her brain, but she knew with certainty leaving was what she desired.

Sofia turned the key in the igntion and wondered what Barry would do when he woke up to an empty bed. Would he look for her? Or would he already know.

She started to drive, spidering across the empty Kildare roads— one last victory tour. Strands of hair whipped around her face as the breeze spilled in through the open window.

She passed her house, her school, the local church. She passed the country club, Tannyhill, Rafe's house.

She wasn't just leaving the Cut; she was leaving it all behind.

The sun began to peek through the clouds, hitting her face just as she made it on to the highway. Kildare faded and Sofia smiled.

She remembers Barry. Still hard inside of her. His release dripping out.

He strokes her cheek with a tenderness that makes her want to cry.

I'll take care of you, yeah. You don't need to worry. Stay here with me Sofia and you'll be fine.

She smiles but it's solemn.

How do you know?

He slips his tongue inside her mouth and makes her swallow it.

She remembers thinking he sounds an awful lot like Rafe, down on his knee, surrounded by the branches of the feathery live oaks. Telling her to quit her job. Telling her to move in with him.

And look how that turned out.

She kisses him back but slowly pushes him out of her.

When she falls asleep, she dreams of open roads.

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