Page 79 of When Sinners Fear
His arrogance irritated me. If I had been more like my usual self, I could have counter-challenged anything he threw at me. I can’t claim anything close to being like myself at the moment, though. And what’s becoming painfully clear is that I doubt if I ever will be.
~
“Hey, what’s up with Dr Simon? Have you all met him?” I say, turning to Malcome. Our group agreed to meet up for coffee as it had been so long. Getting out and distracting myself seemed like the best plan. Maybe that’s what I needed. Familiarity.
“He’s a fellow under Dr Axton. I don’t think he’s had much experience with being a research advisor for topics such as yours, but that’s just a rumour.” He takes a sip of his tea.
“Then why has he been assigned to me? Is it a punishment?”
“Nobody thinks that, Peyton,” Giles offers, covering my hand with his in comfort. It’s a little weird, but he’s just being friendly. These people were my friends before. It feels like a lifetime ago we were last here having a coffee and discussing our current problems or issues with the grad students this year. But the treacherous thoughts remind me if they’d still consider me a friend knowing I helped kill someone. Knowing someone who sells women owns my heart?
Shaking my head, I say, “I appreciate the sentiment, Giles, but Dr Simon seems to think the last few months have set me back to the point that my dissertation may be jeopardised.”
“That’s ridiculous. He said that after one conversation? He’s an ass,” Malcome concludes, and I wish I had his confidence. He doesn’t have all the information to form the right conclusion.
We move the conversation on to cover everyone’s current work, and it’s interesting to hear how the differential hypothesis of Giles’ work is progressing. For a few moments, I forget, blocking out the rest of the world in this small, micro-bubble of a life.
It isn’t a lingering meeting, and after our drinks, we leave, saying goodbye to Malcome at the entrance. He lives across town, but Giles is around the corner from me. He puts his hand on my back to escort me towards my apartment. I appreciate the company. I’m still waking with nightmares and being out after dark seems to be something I don’t have to do anymore. Not a coincidence after what happened.
A man in a dark coat barges into us, pushing Giles off centre. “Take your fucking hands off her.”
That voice.
My heart jumps as I turn to stare right into the eyes of the man who haunts my thoughts and my heart. “Knox!”
He doesn’t look at me. Instead, he grabs Giles and hauls him up against the side of the wall, pinning him there.
“Hey, man.” Giles puts his hands up in protest, his glasses skewing on his face as he’s manhandled.
“Knox!” I shove my hands on his chest, trying to get him to back off. “Let him go. Now.”
He finally releases his grip, and Giles slides to the ground. “Don’t ever fucking touch her again.”
“Giles, I’m so sorry. I’ll explain another time.” I try to reassure him and smile while keeping Knox at arm’s length. Giles looks confused and a little petrified, which I can understand. He nods at me and seems to scurry away. “Look at me, Knox.” I tug his sleeve and pull him toward me, hoping to take his attention off the friend he’s just assaulted.
His eyes finally meet mine, and I take a small breath of relief. They’re so familiar and offer me something that hits the centre of my chest as I look at him. I’m so cross and confused at the same time, though. “What the hell? Giles wasn’t doing anything.”
“He had his hands on you,” he gruffs in response.
“He put his hand on my back as we were walking back. He’s one of my fellow research partners. A friend, that’s all. Besides, why are you here?”
“I came to see you.”
“See me? Not interrogate or threaten my friends?”
He sighs and looks at the sky. “Don’t push me, Peyton. It’s been a long few weeks.”
“Fine. Did you want to talk?” I ask, intrigued by his appearance. He broke a piece of me when he left me to go home alone. Now he’s back after all these weeks?
“Let’s get a drink.”
I smile at his words, remembering our first date. “We’re outside a coffee shop, Knox. We can go back and have a drink.”
“A real drink, Peyton.” He takes my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine, and pulls me along the street. I let him, and it feels like the easiest thing in the world.
And the most terrifying.
We walk in silence, but that’s okay. There’s going to be plenty of words soon enough.