Page 8 of Protecting Salvation

Chapter2

“Is thereanything else you want to speak to me about today, Hilary?” Peyton looked at the mousy woman in front of her who, even after four sessions, seemed as terrified of her own shadow as she had been that first day. Her fingers gripped her handbag on her lap and she sat ramrod stiff on the edge of the chair. Her eyes flitted over to the door time and time again.

It was a process, counselling a person who’d been through so much sustained abuse over such a long time.

“No.”

Peyton stood and kept her distance as she headed to the door with Hilary walking with her head down in front of her. They left the comfort and security of her office, and for a second she missed her old set-up working from home. Even then though she knew she’d never go back, the attack on her carried out by her friend’s father and his men had shattered her illusion of safety and opened her eyes to her own vulnerability. Sharing space in a building in town with other professionals like herself was better.

“Well, you have my number, and if not, I’ll see you next week same time.”

“Okay, goodbye.”

Watching Hilary walk away, with her head bent, and her shoulders curled as if she were trying to make herself small enough that she became invisible made her sad and angry. Some days she hated her job, hated that she was picking up the pieces after the damage had been inflicted on someone’s psyche.

Peyton walked back inside to the window on the third-floor office which she’d decorated in calming beach vibes. Not loud or bright but to give the tranquil feeling that only the sea and the beach could give. At the window, she watched the street below. Three women were talking animatedly as they entered the bridal shop opposite. Peyton smiled, soaking up some of that joy and wondered what it would feel like to be so in love that it couldn’t be contained. She’d never felt it. She’d had boyfriends but none who took up so much of her emotional energy that she could feel it bubbling out of her like that girl.

A movement to her left had her turning to see a figure stepping back into the shadows of the estate agent’s building across from her office. She couldn’t see his face or the upper half of his body, just a set of work boots that were scuffed and a pair of dirty jeans. A shiver involuntarily worked its way up her spine. She watched for a minute and then he seemed to step inside and she let out a nervous laugh of relief.

She was jumping at boogie men. A nice little reminder of her attack to go with her physical scars.

“Ruff.”

A little bark had her bending down to smile at Bertie her little protector, and she scratched behind his ears. This little ball of white fluff was the most important thing in her life. He’d literally saved her oldest friend’s life when he’d stopped a bullet meant for Aoife. She shuddered at the memory and picked him up, holding him close, placing a kiss on his soft fury head.

“What’s up with you, Bert? You hungry?” He licked her face in answer and she laughed. “Okay. Let’s go home and see what we have for dinner.”

She drove home with him strapped into his doggy seat belt in the front of the car, watching the world go by like a king. It was a Friday night, she was thirty-one years old, and her evening was Netflix, a microwave meal, and a glass of wine.

As she turned into her drive, her phone rang and she shut off the engine and smiled at the caller ID, which read bestest friend in the world. Aoife had changed her caller ID the last time she’d come over.

Peyton answered with a smile. “Hey, Nurse McCullum.”

“Hey, what you up to?”

“Well, right now I’m talking to you, then I’m going to peruse the wide selection of microwave dinners in my freezer, before curling up with a nice bottle of chianti and drooling over Idris Elba. You?”

Aoife laughed. “Well, it looks like I’m saving you from yourself. Me, Snow, Duchess, Lotus, Charlie, and Val are going for a girl’s night and you, my friend, are coming too.”

Peyton groaned. “Nooo, I don’t want to people anymore.”

“Tough shit. You’re my best friend and you’re coming out with me tonight.”

“Friends don’t make each other people when they’ve had enough.”

“Friends also don’t let friends wallow in a dry spell for months on end.”

Peyton stroked Bertie’s head as she tried not to smile. “Hey, it isn’t that long.”

“How long is it, then?”

Peyton gave it some thought and realised it was actually longer. The last guy had been a businessman she’d met at a conference on trauma techniques. He’d been staying at the same hotel as her and they’d met in the hotel bar. “Whatever.”

Aoife laughed and it was good to hear her friend so happy and free. She’d wondered for a long time if she’d ever be either of those things and then she’d met her husband Bram through Peyton’s contact with Fortis and Eidolon. The rest was history. They were one of those sickeningly happy couples that only had eyes for each other when they were in a room together. That made her think of the other reason she was currently in a drought and frowned.

The very gorgeous, very sweet man they called Hurricane. He’d been wonderful after her attack, sweet, friendly, and supportive. She’d thought they’d formed something, a bond but when she’d moved back home and began to live her life again, he’d disappeared from her life.

She wasn’t mad at him, just disappointed because, for the first time, she’d felt a twinge of something. Even though they’d never kissed or even touched in any way that could be construed as inappropriate, she’d liked him. He clearly saw her as a job or a friend of a friend at most.