Teach me to trust

46. Work

It's been a few days since Nate brought me back to his, waiting on me hand and foot. It's been nice to be cared for but I feel like I'm suffocating slightly, no space to think.

I've told Sam I'll be in work tonight, much to Nate's chagrin,

"Are you sure you don't need some more time off?" he asks, eyes darting up to the small stiches on the side of my head,

"I'm sure. I want to go back, I need to tell him I'm leaving soon. Maybe after I've found something else, but it might be nice to have a break between jobs" I shrug, washing my dirty pots from breakfast.

I hear the front door open and turn to Nate in confusion, brows furrowing when I see the timid smile on his face,

"What's going on?" I ask hesitantly, turning my eyes to the quiet noise from the living room just out of sight from where I'm stood.

"Come on" he tells me, holding his hand up to me and squeezing when I place my hand in his, slightly hesitantly and I follow behind him.

I stop short when I get into to living room, breath catching in my throat and a strange feeling in my stomach when my eyes land on the people in front of me. Lily, Marc, JD and Keira all stand in Nate's living room, nervous smiles on their faces when they see Nate enter, not quite seeing me yet.

"Em?" he says, turning to me and I watch as the four people in front of me dart their eyes over to me, running across the slightly damaged skin on my face and I watch as Lily brings her hands tightly in front of herself, clasping them together.

"Hi" I choke out through the lump in my throat, feeling entirely overwhelmed that these people have clearly come here to see me.

I feel sick when my eyes meet Keira's and her face crumples, small sob racking her chest and she throws herself at me, clutching me tight to her chest and rocking us from side to side.

"You fucking bitch. I was so worried about you" she wails, pulling back and holding me in front of her my shoulders and shaking me. A sharp hiss leaves my mouth at the movement as it pulls at my stiches.

"Enough, Keira" Nate barks out, stepping around me and holding her arm so she stops moving, alarm coating her features when she realises she's hurt me.

She moves her hands back like I've burned her and I smile at her, shaking my head and sending Nate a disapproving look at his blunt words to Keira,

"It's okay, just the stitches" I tell her, and watch as she relaxes at the calm look on my face, stepping back slightly and letting the others approach me, all taking turns hugging me gently and my lip quivers when Marc pulls me tight to his chest,

"I'm so glad you're okay" he mumbled into my ear, squeezing me quickly and pulling back, rolling his eyes at Nate who hovers around me whenever someone gets a little too close to the stitches on my shoulder.

I pretend not to notice the comforting arm JD wraps around Keira's waist.

I've been back at work for a couple of hours now. Thankful the cautious looks and tentative questions have stopped.

Sam wrapped me up in a hug the minute he saw the marks on my face, whispering promised threats of murder and refusing to confirm whether or not it was Nate that told him, briefly, what had happened.

"I'm under strict orders to watch out for you tonight doll" was all he said before wandering away down the bar, thankfully leaving me on my own to breath for the first time in a few days.

I was glad to be back in my own space, being able to just focus on my job and not have to talk about everything. Time to just relax and keep my mind occupied with thoughts other than that psychopath who's currently awaiting trial.

My mind spins at the memory of the police calling me in to talk to me, telling me that they found evidence against Alistair. The warning they gave me before they pulled out a thick folder of photographs, telling me I didn't have to look if I didn't feel ready.

I looked.

I had to push away the few photos that were clearly taken through a gap in my curtains, faint, slightly blurred images of me getting dressed.

I almost passed out when I saw the pictures in front of me. Image after image of me. Some when I was leaving the house, keys in hand as I walked to my car and others when I got home from work, checking my surroundings before I ran inside.

I wonder if he ever laughed when I did that, checked for danger before getting out of my car. Knowing that he was the danger I was looking out for but missing every time.

"Excuse me?" a small voice snaps me out of my thoughts, looking over to see a small blonde smiling at me across the bar, clearly waiting to be served and I smile at her,

"Sorry about that. What can I get for you?" I nod as she tells me her order and set up her tray for her, frowning when I realise how small she is and I offer to bring her drinks out to her. She's only sat on a table opposite the bar but I don't want to risk her spilling her drinks.

I head over a few minutes later, carrying the tray and depositing the drinks for her and her friends, smiling at her again as I turn to leave. I flinch when someone makes harsh contact with my shoulder, causing me to stumble out of the way and for a brief second I feel like I'm back in my house.

I make it back behind the bar and catch Samuel's eye, taking a deep breath when I remember I'm at the bar and I'm perfectly safe, tucked away behind the bar.

"All good?" he asks, leaning over to ask me quietly while he makes up some more drinks, smiling brightly at me when I nod.

I tell him I'm going to fill the ice, grabbing the bucket and heading into the back room to the freezer, filling it to the brim and pouring it out into the tub in the front of the bar. I glance up, out into the crowd of people and my heart stops when I catch a glimpse of hair that looks startlingly similar to Alistair.

No. He isn't here, he can't be here.

I repeat the words in my head like a mantra, rushing into the closest bathroom and locking myself in the stall as I catch my breath, reminding myself that it definitely isn't him.

I tense slightly when I hear the bathroom door open, half expected the door to come crashing in and a firm hand to rip me out, but there isn't any of that. Just the sound of someone unzipping their bag and spraying some kind of perfume.

I take a few more minutes to gather my thoughts, deciding that I need to get out of this job soon. Clearly it isn't helping the healing process and the late nights don't help either.

I let myself out of the stall and adjust my top, side stepping the girl at the sinks and lifting my hands to wash them, lifting my head up and back slightly to move my hair from my face. I reach up to grab a paper towel, eyes quickly darting to the woman next to me, who's now brushing her hair and applying lip gloss.

She's pretty. I think to myself, smiling at her when our eyes meet in the mirror and feeling relieved when she sends me a tipsy smile back, obviously slightly giddy from whatever she's been drinking tonight.

For a second, I think I recognise her. But my brain still feels a little foggy and I'm sure it's nothing. I'm about to turn to leave when my brain suddenly screams at me to stop, everything in my gut telling me to listen to myself.

I glance to the side again, at the woman who's still preening herself in the mirror and I finally realise what that gut feeling meant.

Fucking shit.

It's her.