CHAPTER FIVE
Nora
By the time I returned to the bar, I’d almost convinced myself the worst was behind me. Missing a shift had cost me money I couldn’t afford to lose, and I’d spent the entire night alone inside my apartment doing nothing.
I walked between the sofa and the kitchen with a book I wasn’t really reading. The television was just making noise to fill the silence. Every few minutes I told myself to stop thinking about the feeling I’d had after my last shift at the bar, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
As I paced the apartment, I’d realized that I couldn’t keep hiding from a fear I didn’t even understand. I still had to pay my rent. My bills were still coming on time. My jobs didn’t care if I was feeling anxious or not.
Walking into the bar through the staff entrance felt nice. The noise reached me before anything else did. It was a mix of glasses clinking, people laughing, raised voices, and feet moving quickly. Someone in the kitchen called out for another order.
A bartender polished glasses behind the counter. Two waitresses argued about whose turn it was to fill the ice bins. It was busy and noisy. After being alone with my thoughts last night, I liked the simple routine of it all.
A few people said hello to me as I put on my apron and put my notepad in my pocket. One of the waitresses asked if I was feeling better. I told her that I’d just had a bug and that it was gone after a day of rest.
It was easier than telling her that I wasn’t really sick in the usual sense. My body was fine. It was my mind that was the problem, but I didn’t want to talk about that.
Before long, the quiet of getting ready gave way to the pace of a busy shift.
Orders came in one after another. Drinks disappeared as soon as they got to the tables.
I got back into the routine that I knew well.
It was nice to have a lot to do, because every tray I carried and every order I took distracted me from thoughts that I didn’t need to have.
By the middle of the evening, I wasn’t counting the hours anymore. I was just moving from one table to the next, smiling and saying sorry when the kitchen took too long.
I saw the guy from the beer incident, Liam, a few times during the night. He was moving through the room in the calm and confident way he always did.
I saw him talk quietly to one of the bartenders after a customer got loud.
Whatever he said was enough to calm the situation down before it became a problem.
Later, he held the door for a delivery driver who had his hands full, and then he disappeared into the crowd again without waiting for a thank-you.
None of it was special on its own, but together it showed that he was someone who liked to solve problems before they became noticeable.
Every now and then my thoughts went back to the night I met Liam. I remembered the moment when I spilled a whole pitcher of beer on him. The embarrassment had faded a bit with time, but some of it was still there.
The hours went by faster than I’d thought they would. Before I knew it, the rush was over.
I helped clear the last of the glasses and wiped down a few tables, then took off my apron and put it away. I said goodnight to the other servers, put on my jacket, and stepped outside. I was already thinking about a hot shower and going to bed before I had to do it all again the next day.
The door closed behind me. I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and turned toward the street that I walked down every night. I’d been walking this route for weeks now, so I didn’t need to think about where I was going. My feet just knew the way.
My legs hurt from standing all day, and all I could think about was taking off my shoes when I got home. That made me smile to myself. When I was younger I used to get excited about staying up late. Now all I wanted was a shower and a good night’s sleep.
I switched my bag to my other shoulder when I got to the first crossing on the route. There were two people waiting with me, both staring at their phones. When the traffic lights changed, we crossed the road together, then went our separate ways.
There was a convenience store on the corner of the route that was still open.
The windows were bright, and the light spilled out onto the pavement as I slowed down to hold the door for a man who was carrying groceries.
He thanked me and I smiled at him. It was a small thing, but it reminded me that there was still kindness in the world.
I thought about tomorrow morning. I’d be back at the café, trying to convince myself that coffee was enough for breakfast. Sofia would try to get me to eat something and we’d have the conversation that we had every day.
I’d promise to take care of myself, but I wouldn’t change anything about my breakfast.
. I was almost home when I heard footsteps behind me.
They faded away when the person turned off onto another street. I tried not to think about it much.
When I got to the last intersection before my street, I was trying to figure out if I had milk for my coffee or if I needed to stop at the store.
I crossed the road, put my hands in my pockets, and kept walking.I heard two sets of footsteps behind me, so I moved aside to let them go by. They didn’t pass me.
Before I could look back, a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me backward. My bag fell off my shoulder. Another hand caught my wrist, forcing me to stop moving.
I looked up and saw the second man standing in front of me. I was trapped between them.
These men didn’t look nervous or scared. They weren’t wearing masks. They weren’t looking around to see if anyone was watching. They looked calm, like they did this every day.
“Nora Annie Walsh,” the man in front of me said.
I was shocked. In Boston, people knew me as their waitress or as Sofia’s friend. My neighbors didn’t even know my name.
I started thinking about Victor. I remembered the way he used to walk. How I could tell what kind of night it would be by the sound of his footsteps. I remembered the silence before he got angry. How my mom would pretend she didn’t hear anything.
I thought I’d forgotten those things, but they came back to me as I looked at these men. My body reacted before my mind did. I hit the man behind me with my elbow, and he let go of me. I tried to run, but the other man stopped me.
“Easy,” he said. “We don’t want to hurt you.”
I obviously didn’t believe him. People who don’t want to hurt you don’t grab you on the street. I tried to get away again, but the first man caught me. He held my arm tightly, and I knew I’d have bruises tomorrow. I kicked, but they were too strong.
The man in front said, “Let’s go.”
The other man said, “I’ve got her.”
They weren’t trying to rob me. They were kidnapping me.
I panicked and fought even harder. Suddenly, the man behind me let go of my arm, and I stumbled sideways. One of the men flew past me and hit the ground. The other man was grabbed from behind and thrown into the wall face-first. I was frozen as I stared at the man who’d saved me.
For a second, I forgot about everything else. I’d seen him across the bar dozens of times, always moving with that same calm confidence. Seeing him here, standing between me and the men who’d tried to take me, felt different.
He looked almost exactly the same as he always did, calm and completely in command. Somehow, that made me feel safer than it should have.
It was Liam.
***
My fingers wouldn’t stop shaking, even after the street was quiet again.
The danger was over, but my body hadn’t realized it.
Every breath I took got stuck in my chest, and my legs felt so weak that I wasn’t sure they’d hold me up if I tried to take another step.
I stood right where I was, staring at the street.
The two men had run away, but I was still trying to understand what had just happened.
Liam stayed where he was for a few seconds, looking down the street to make sure the men weren’t coming back.
Then he turned to me. His face didn’t show much as he looked me over carefully, making sure I was okay.
His eyes stopped on the marks on my wrist before checking the rest of me for injuries.
His attention lingered on my face for a second before he looked away. I wasn’t sure what he’d seen there. Fear, probably. I knew I looked shaken. Being looked at by him made me suddenly aware of how close he was.
“Are you hurt?” he asked me. I tried to answer, but I couldn’t say a word. I hadn’t realized how much fear could take away my ability to speak.
I shook my head a little, even though I wasn’t really sure if I was hurt or not.
My arm ached where the men had grabbed me, my shoulder was sore from trying to get away, and all my muscles were tight, making it hard to stand still.
Liam didn’t ask me any more questions. He picked up my bag from the ground, brushed off the dirt, and handed it to me. I took it automatically.
“You should sit down for a minute,” he said. I looked around and saw a low brick planter near me. I sat down on the edge, holding my bag like it was the only thing I had left. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable. It gave me time to think and catch my breath.
“I...” I cleared my throat. “Thank you.” The words didn’t seem like enough after what he’d done for me, but they were all I could say. “If you hadn’t...” I couldn’t finish the sentence, but Liam understood what I meant. He nodded and looked down the street again before turning back to me.
“We’re leaving,” he said.
It took me a moment to understand what he meant. I looked up at him, still trying to clear my head. “My apartment is a few minutes away.”
“No,” he said. The way he said it wasn’t mean, but it was clear that he wouldn’t change his mind. “We’re not going there.”
I frowned, confused. “I live five minutes away.”
“I know,” he said. Before I could ask him how he knew that, he continued talking.
“Those men knew your name. They weren’t looking for a random person.
They were looking for you. Until we know who they are and why they want you, I’m not taking you back to your apartment. They already know where it is.”
I stared at him, trying to find a reason why he was wrong. I wanted to tell him that the men must have mistaken me for someone or that there had to be another explanation, but every argument I thought of didn’t make sense. They’d said my name. I’d heard it clearly.
“Who are they?” I asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” His honesty should have made me feel better, but it actually made me more scared. If Liam didn’t know who those men were, then we had no idea if they would come back tomorrow, in a week, or in an hour. He pointed to an SUV parked near us. “Come on.”
I hesitated. Everything I’d learned in life told me not to get into a car with a man I barely knew, no how much he’d just helped me. Another part of me thought that if Liam wanted to hurt me, he could have done it already.
Instead, he’d helped me without asking for anything in return. I hesitated for a few more seconds, and then I stood up slowly and followed him to the car without saying a word.
The drive was mostly silent. I watched as the streets I knew disappeared from view. After a few minutes it was clear we were going in a completely unfamiliar direction. My mind was clearer now, and I had questions that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answers to.
Liam kept both hands on the steering wheel, his attention fixed on the road. I found myself watching him.
I couldn’t explain it, but his presence was reassuring, just like the clean, warm scent coming from him. It was something I couldn’t quite place beneath the faint trace of the night air and whatever soap or cologne he used.
I noticed it only because I was sitting close to him. I quickly looked back out the window when he shifted in his seat. I didn’t want him to catch me staring.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Somewhere safe.”
I looked out the window even though there was nothing to see but empty streets. My home was behind us, and so was the sense of security I’d worked hard to build over the years. I held my bag tightly and rested my forehead against the cool glass.
The car slowed down before a pair of iron gates that opened without Liam needing to get out of his seat.
We drove along a driveway lined with old trees on both sides until a big house came into view.
It was huge, private, and far away from the road.
Nobody walking down the street could see much of the house through the gates.
There were lights on in some of the windows, which made the house seem warm and cozy, but I still felt uneasy.
Liam parked the car and opened my door. I stepped out onto the driveway, my legs feeling wobbly after everything that had happened.
He held out a hand. I stared at it for a second before placing mine in his. His fingers closed around mine, firm and warm, and something inside twisted. It was ridiculous. He was helping me out of a car; that was all. I pulled mine away a little quicker than necessary.
I looked around, but I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for. The quiet here felt different from the silence outside my apartment. There were no cars driving by, no people talking, and no footsteps except for ours as Liam walked me to the door.
The inside of the house was comfortable and not too fancy. A lamp was on in the living room. A fridge hummed in the kitchen. It felt like a home, not a place to hide, but I couldn’t forget that I didn’t belong here. I held my bag tightly with both hands as I looked at Liam.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I know that’s not enough. You saved my life.”
Liam’s face softened a little. “You don’t owe me anything.”
We stood there for a moment, looking at each other. I’d seen his face under the lights and noise of the bar, but this was different. He looked tired, human. And somehow that made him more difficult to look away from.
“I think I would like to go home,” I said.
“No,” he said firmly. I was surprised by how commanding he sounded.
“I’ll be careful,” I said. “I’ll lock my door, and I won’t leave until I go to work tomorrow. I’ll be fine.”
“You won’t be fine,” Liam said. I looked at his face, hoping he would change his mind. He did not. “They knew your name,” he continued calmly. “They were looking for you. Until I know who they are and what they want, I’m not taking you back to your apartment.”
Everything Liam said made sense, which made it hard to argue. Part of me wanted to leave because I wanted to make my own decisions, but another part of me remembered the men who’d tried to take me, and that part was scared. The room was quiet for a moment.
I looked at the door, wondering if Liam would move aside and let me leave if I tried to move past him. He just stood there, calm and sure of himself.
As I looked around the room, I realized that even though I’d gotten away from those men, I still felt like I wasn’t in control. Those men hadn’t decided where I’d spend the night…but Liam had.