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My stomach drops as I see Nik heading over, being deliberately slow and cautious, like he’s approaching a bird with a clipped wing.

“Hey,” he starts, almost awkwardly - but not quite

“Hey,” I repeat back, as awkwardly as is humanly possible, drawing a smirk

“We’re staying here for a few nights, we’ve got a room. Are you coming?”

“You can’t just assume I’ll stay here with you” I manage, but my emotion is making me slur a bit, and I’m a thousand percent sure that I do not sound as serious as I think I do, which is why I’m pretty confused at first when he laughs at me

“Okay well, how about you take the bed, and I’ll take the floor?” he offers, rather graciously and completely flatly

“I don’t want to stay here with you!” I completely lie, don’t even know why I said that, and I make myself cry because I do. I do want to stay here with him.

“Yeah, you don’t have voting rights on this one”

“Fuck you, you can’t tell me what to do!”

He sighs, massages his temples for a second and then clearly somewhat loses his patience. With calm, firm, decisiveness he picks me up and carries me over his shoulder.

“Put me down you fucking fuck!” I wail, whilst raining punches on his back where my head is hanging, followed by “I am a fucking grown woman!” I screech at him but he’s clearly not listening. I eventually give in and allow myself to just be carried like a rag doll into a corridor, and through a doorway into a guest room.

The motion does it. “Nik, seriously, I’m going to be sick” just as he was about to drop me onto the bed. He disapprovingly grabs a bin and hands it to me. I dunk my head in, but start to doze off before anything comes up. I can’t tell if it’s the drink or just all the feelings making me feel sick, but it’s definitely the drink making the room spin.

I collapse down to the side, ready for sleep to take me. I feel his cautious approach, but his touch repels me.

“Let’s get you ready for bed,” he reassures me

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me,” I slur, thrashing, kicking out at him

He stops, and sighs. Not saying a word.

“Fuck you… you left me and you kill people… don’t fucking touch me… bastard” and I fall into a disturbed, drunken sleep.

Thirty One

Sawyer

My head explodes as the bedroom door flings open with a thud, hitting the wall behind it. I squeeze my eyes, rolling my face into the duvet, which is rapidly pulled away from me. The shock of capture overwhelms me whilst my head pounds and stomach churns.

“This isn’t breakfast in bed. Come on, there’s bacon” Liska’s unmistakable voice barks as she rips the duvet away, revealing my sweat-soaked clothes from last night. I’m hit in the side of the head, with a pair of jeans and a hoodie.

“I’m dying” I groan from beneath the pile of clothes

“You’re dramatic, next time I bring the hose” she does not enter negotiations, she slaps a Red Bull onto the night stand, and leaves. Resisting the urge to vomit, I gulp down the warm energy drink and start to change. Nice thought, girl, but I am not wearing someone else’s pants. The jeans are way more distressed than I’d normally wear but they’ll do, and the oversized Guns’n’Roses hoodie will do. It swallows me completely, but it is, at least, clean.

Gripping the ends of my sleeves I creep my way to the threshold to the bar. There’s only a few people in here now, and it feels very different. It’s just, grumpy old blokes having breakfast. A wolf whistle and nod from Liska tells me to go and sit at the table with Nik and Reaper, the empty plates and coffee pot tell me they’ve been here a while. Their stoic faces and beard stroking tell me it’s serious business, not last night’s back slapping.

“Morning” Nik offers as I sit, I just about manage a half smile but I can’t find any words for him. He continues “How’d you sleep?” I screw my face up at him. What a stupid question. Reaper raises his eyebrows, rolls his eyes all the way round, and lets out a low whistle. Nik shoots him a whose side are you on look, which incites a laugh.

“You’ll be right, kid, get some grub” and right on cue, Liska sits down with two plates stacked with greasy bacon sandwiches on doorstops. Seeing how she rams the first bite into her mouth, I drop the social act and do the same. Forcing every gram of smoky, delicious hangover cure that my mouth can fit, bite after bite barely chewing enough to swallow. Satisfied, I lean back, and a burp fights its way out, catching me - and everyone else - by surprise.

Reaper and Liska don’t react, but Nik looks at me with mild amusement. His hand warms my thigh and for a second I forget just how fucking unsure I am about him and everything. I ponder for a second or two before delicately removing it, dropping it down beside me.

“Oh, no thank you,” I tell him with a polite smile. We’re not doing this, we’re not getting sucked back into all of this. Absolutely not. No. Even if my fanny had already reacted to his touch. Even if all I want is him to hold me and tell me it’s all going to be alright. Stay strong, girl, we’ve got this.

He doesn’t look at me, instead glancing at Reaper “Smoke?” and the two of them depart rather quickly. Nik doesn’t push his chair back in, and he leads the way with considerably more urgency than Reaper. I watch them leave, and seeing him walk away pulls at every heart string I still possess. Ugh. Why can’t this be simple? Like every romantic comedy ever, where the drama is like “oh my God, he likes tea and I like coffee… we’ll never last” I just sit there in my bowl of feelings.

“Idiot” Liska’s voice cuts over her coffee