Past Hurts

-Three-

"Christ you're jumpy today," Alfie commented, bending down with a groan to help Evelyn pick up the files of papers she had just dropped.

"Sorry," she murmured. "I've not been sleeping well and it's putting me a little on edge."

Alfie had noticed she hadn't been herself for the past couple of days. She had bags under her eyes and she had been in a world of her own; barely hearing anything he said until he was right in front of her and then she'd almost jump out of her seat with fright.

"Anythin' you wanna talk about?"

"No it's nothing," her wobbly smile didn't reassure him in the slightest and he frowned when she reached to the side for one of the sheets of paper.

"What's this?" he took her arm gently, his eyes narrowing as they looked upon the ugly brown green fingerprints around her wrist. At least now the long sleeved dresses in the midst of a heat wave had made sense.

"Nothing," she tried to pull her arm back but Alfie was having none of it.

Pulling back her loose sleeve, his face thundered angrily when he saw there were more bruises and marks that looked like cigarette burns.

"Nothin'?" he spat. "What, you just did that to yourself, did you?"

"Fine," she sighed, standing up and yanking down her sleeve. "Some bloke got a little bit handsy with me."

"What bloke?" Alfie growled. "Tell me who he is and I'll go and pay him a little visit, yeah?"

"I-I don't know his name," Evelyn stammered. "He was just some random man I was dancing with at a club on Saturday night. His hands were wandering and when I slapped them away, he grabbed me. It was fine, honestly. I'm fine. One of the bartenders saw what was happening and came over and had him kicked out."

"And you'd never seen this fella before?"

"No," she shook her head, refusing to look at him and making a great show of shuffling the papers in an attempt to ignore him.

"Do you know what I do to people who lie to me?"

She stopped and Alfie could see the way her breath hitched nervously and her entire body tensed.

"I usually have my lads knock 'em about a bit just for fun," he stepped towards her, his voice quiet. "Then I knock 'em about a bit. Start with their fingers first. Some of 'em cry after the first fingernail gets torn off but some of 'em just keep schtum even after they aint go fingers or toes left. Wanna know what comes next?"

Evelyn swallowed and Alfie could see her bottom lip trembling as she backed away from him in fear and he followed her, looming over her, stalking like a predator.

"I go for their ears next," he murmured, his eyes boring into hers with such intensity that she couldn't look away no matter how much she wanted to. His hand reached up to touch her face and she flinched. He stroked a finger over her cheek. She was trembling and her breathing was shallow and rapid. He knew he should have stopped long before now. He knew this wasn't the way to deal with her. He was angry; not at her. He was angry that clearly someone had hurt her and she was lying about it. He was angry that she didn't trust him to help her. He was angry that perhaps she didn't even want his help. He dropped his hand and stepped back; barely half a step and Evelyn's eyes darted to the door as though trying to decide whether or not she could make a run for it or not. Alfie sighed, hating himself. If his mother could see him she'd be bloody ashamed. What kind of a man intimidates a woman; one whose face is just about eye level with the base of his neck? "I didn't mean to frighten you, Ev."

She blinked. Even in her fear her incoherent thoughts were able to register that it was the first time he had used the shortened version of her name; the one that Ollie used frequently.

"I'd never hurt you, Evelyn," he murmured, the silence in the room between them fraught with tension. "You're one of mine, right? And I always look after my own. Which is why you need to tell me the truth."

"I can't," she whispered.

"Can't? Or won't?"

"He'll kill me."

And just like that the dam exploded and everything she had been holding for days came streaming out. Her wobbly legs collapsed from beneath her and she burst into tears. When Alfie got down onto his knees beside her, she reached for him, clutching desperately at the front of his shirt as he rubbed a hand up and down her back while the other carded through her hair and pressed her closer to him. Alfie wasn't usually one to comfort anyone and he would have been lying if he said he felt entirely comfortable in the role, but in that moment it felt as though he had been doing it all of his life.

"Come on now," he murmured, his voice gruff with feelings he wasn't accustomed to. "Whatever's goin' on, we'll fix it, eh?"

Evelyn pulled away from him and he caught a whiff of her chamomile and lavender shampoo. He noticed the smell every time she walked past him or when she leaned over his desk to show him where to sign something, but this time it was different. Because before, when there had been a professional, albeit friendly, distance between them he hadn't felt how soft her body was pressed against his and how soft her hair had felt as his fingers brushed through it soothingly. But now he knew, and it made him feel... odd.

"I'm scared," she sobbed. "I'm so scared, Mr Solomons."

"Alfie," his hand ached to brush away the tears dripping down her cheeks. "I think we're past formalities now, aint we?"

Evelyn nodded, a hesitant look passing briefly across her face and she wiped at her tears with the back of her sleeve as Alfie helped her to her feet, seating her in the chair opposite his own before he reached into his desk drawer for his bottle of whisky.

"Here you are, love," he poured a measure into a glass and slid it across the table to her. "Have that to settle your nerves a bit, yeah?"

"I'm not... I don't really drink," Evelyn murmured.

"I'm not tryin' to get you trollied," Alfie smirked. "Just have a sip to help you calm down a bit, alright? Then you're gonna tell me what the fuck's goin' on."

Nodding, more to herself than to Alfie, she took the glass with her shaky hands and took a small sip, coughing when it burned the back of her throat. Her eyes met Alfie's and although there was amusement on the surface, she could see the anger lurking behind his dark orbs. Only his anger, she realised, wasn't directed at her. It was anger for her; for what she was going through and she swallowed down the lump in her throat. She didn't have to do this alone. Not now that she had Alfie to help her.

"I don't really know where to start," she sighed eventually.

"Usually the beginning's a good place, eh?"