Unveiled (One Night #3)

But my body is ignoring each and every one of them. They’re in shock. I’m frozen. A sitting target.

All of the sound around me is drowned out by the repeated demands in my mind. The only thing I’m focused on is that car coming closer and closer and closer.

The screeching of tyres is what finally yanks me from my trance, then the pounding footsteps on tarmac. I’m rugby-tackled from the side and sent crashing down to the pavement. I’m stunned back to life by the impact, but my landing is soft. I’m disoriented. Confused. Then I’m suddenly moving, but not by my own volition, and I’m soon sitting up with Ted crouching in front of me. Where did he come from? I left him at the hospital.

‘You’re gonna get me sacked, girl,’ he says, scanning my face quickly before checking my body for injuries. ‘Fuck’s sake,’ he grumbles, helping me up.

‘I’m . . . sorry,’ I stammer over my words, totally shaken, while Ted brushes me down with constant huffs and puffs of irritation. ‘I didn’t see the car.’

‘You weren’t supposed to,’ he mutters quietly, but I heard him loud and clear.

‘Did someone purposely try to run me down?’ I ask, dazed and motionless before him.

‘Maybe a little warning, but let’s not jump to conclusions. Where are you going?’

I indicate blindly over my shoulder to the bistro across the street, unable to tell him with words.

‘I’ll wait here.’ He shakes his head as he pulls his phone from his pocket, giving me serious eyes that dare me to give him the slip again.

I turn on shaky legs, willing some solidity into them before I present myself to my work friends and they have a chance to suspect something is wrong. But something is very wrong. Someone may have just tried to mow me down, and if I take all of the worry that Miller has expressed in recent days, I can only conclude that the heavies, the immoral bastards, whatever you want to call them, are to blame. They’re sending a message.

The smell and sounds of the bistro are familiar. It almost makes smiling easy.

‘Oh my God! Livy!’ Sylvie dives across the bistro, leaving endless customers with wide eyes as they follow her path to me. I remain where I am for fear of her crashing into the door if I move. ‘It’s so good to see you!’ Her body collides with mine, knocking the wind right out of me.

‘Hi,’ I cough, but I’m frowning again when I catch sight of an unfamiliar face behind the counter of the bistro.

‘How are you?’ Sylvie steps back, her hands still on my shoulders, her pink lips pursed as she scans my face.

‘I’m fine,’ I say, no matter how much I’m not, distracted by the girl behind the counter tackling the coffee machine like she’s been here for years.

‘I’m glad,’ Sylvie says, smiling. ‘And Miller?’

‘He’s good,’ I confirm, suddenly feeling awkward, my feet shifting nervously. A surprise holiday, that’s what she thinks. After our ups and downs, Miller whisking me off to have some quality time was a perfectly feasible excuse for my sudden absence. Del sounded surprised when I called him to let him know I’d be off for a week, yet he gave me his blessing and told me to have a nice time. Problem is, it’s been more than a week.

My phone sings from my hand, and I’m again assessing the merits of not having one at all. Concealing the screen from Sylvie’s prying eyes, I silence my phone. It’s either Miller or William, and I still don’t want to talk to either one.

‘So how are things here?’ I ask, using the only diversion tactic I have.

It works. Her shiny black bob swishes when she shakes her head on a tired exhale. ‘Stupidly busy, and Del’s catering for more events than ever.’

‘Livy!’ Del appears at the swing door to the kitchen, quickly followed by Paul. ‘When did you get back?’

‘Yesterday.’ I smile awkwardly, a little embarrassed that I didn’t let him know. But it was all so sudden, and Nan consumed my mind from the moment Miller told me about her heart attack. Everything else was so inconsequential, including my job. Now that I’m here, though, I can’t wait to get started again, once I ensure Nan has fully recovered.

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