The chatter inside slowly dies down as we enter, and Perry strides straight for the counter. Amberley’s beam falters, and she flicks a cautious look at me. Daggers are being glared my way by more than one person sitting at the over-waxed tables. My eyes scan the cafe for my girl, but she isn’t here. Perry is leaning to chat with the younger woman serving, so I overtake Amberley, overhearing their conversation as I approach. “She’s on her break.”
“Where? Has she stepped out, or could you go and get her?” I interrupt.
“You can leave,” an older man with wide but sagging shoulders huffs.
“We’re paying customers,” I throw back, unmoved by the hostility shining at me through dark brown eyes.
“They are.” He uses his spatula to point at my friends. “You’re not. Leave.”
“Hello, Barry!” Amberley chirps. So this is Lauren’s boss. I lift my eyebrow and glower at him.
He inspects me for a further second before he turns to look at Amberley. “Hello, love.”
“I’m going nowhere,” I declare quietly, drawing his attention back my way. I say it with as much force as necessary to ensure he isn’t the only one that knows that I'm here for my girl and I’m not leaving until I have her.
“You could have done with adopting that viewpoint several months ago,” someone snarks to my left. I snap around at a withered-looking old lady watching me. She stands shakily—her eyes narrowed in disgust. “You rich boys are all the same.Boys. She deserves aman.” She stabs her walking stick forcefully into my shoe.
I groan in pain as she bears all her weight, knocking me with her bag before slowly edging away. I wiggle my toes as they spasm painfully. Amberley giggles, and I scowl at them both as Perry grins childishly at me.
“Where is Lauren?” I mutter shortly, my toes pulsing in my shoe.
“If you don’t leave, I'll call the police,” Barry announces loudly.
“Okay, call them.” I shrug, unfazed. Amberley grips my arm, I assume in warning, but I realise it’s in shock when Lauren walks into view. Blotchy sunken eyes meet mine, flat and cold.
“You said she was doing okay,” I seethe under my breath to Perry as he gawks at her, fixed to the spot.
“Oh god, Cain,” Amberley chokes.
“I’m calling the police, love,” Barry assures her, and Amberley rushes to pull her into a hug, her voice low and concerned. She looks as broken as I feel.
“She said she was. She always sounded so perky.” I make to move towards her, and she holds her hand up.
“Lauren, I—”
She cuts us all off. “You need to leave. I'm working.” Her voice is clipped as she heads behind the counter, putting a wide and secure barrier between us. My disbelief is written all over my face. Perry had mentioned she hadn’t seemed herself on their last call, but I glare at him because he should have told me how badly she was doing.
“I’m not going,” I tell her, moving to stand so I’m facing her. Her more angular face has my gut crippling in worry. Why the hell haven’t her parents reached out to me? She’s definitely lost a few pounds.
“Why are you here?” The curt tone she levels me with ensures I know she doesn't care for my answer. I rest my wrists on the counter. My father’s watch digs into my skin, but it keeps me grounded. It reminds me to go slowly, even if I want to rip this counter away and swing her over my shoulder. “To break our pinky promise,” I say softly, reaching for her finger on the countertop, but she moves it and tucks it beneath the surface, her hands shaking. I want to drag her into my chest and beg for forgiveness. Matteo needs to come and check her over.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Her chin lifts, and cold eyes bite back at my guilt-ridden ones.
I search her face, and my mouth twists sadly as I look over her. There’s a hardness that wasn’t evident before. This is all my fault. Seeing her like this hurts as deeply as if someone was to slowly inch a knife into my gut. “I was trying to protect you.” My words penetrate the silent room, and she laughs bitterly, her neck angled and her smooth jawline on show. “Lauren, can we talk out the back?”
“No.” Her fringe looks too big for her small face, and with every passing second, I grow more concerned.
“When does your shift finish?” I ask when she lifts her chin, setting her shoulders in determination. I glance back at her eyes that at one point I had been so lost in, and something close to hatred glimmers back. Shifting uncomfortably, I hold her gaze and silently plead for her to see my regret.
“That's none of your business,” she fires back. A customer at a nearby table chuckles, and I grit my teeth.
“I’m not leaving,” I warn.
“Fine, what can I get you?” Her finger hovers over the till, and she flicks me an expectant look. I narrow my gaze, and her prim eyebrow swings upwards in challenge. My shoulders sag, and I look at Perry for help, but he is chewing his lip in worry.
“An espresso and whatever these two are having.” I nod towards our friends, and Lauren clicks away on the till when they reel their order off. “Lauren, we need to talk,” I say more firmly as she pulls saucers out from below the counter and loads up a tray.
“There is nothing you can say that I could possibly want to hear. That’ll be eighteen pounds and ninety-two pence, please?” Her eyes avert as she holds the card machine out, but I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a note. The second her hand reaches to take it, compulsion takes over. I take her hand, tug her forward, knocking the saucers sideways and slide my hand into her hair. Her eyes widen when realisation dawns.