Chapter 35
Eli
The door clicked shut behind us as Rowan and I stepped into the flat.
The space was quiet, dark except for the faint orange glow that bled in from the streetlamps outside.
I turned the lock into place and tucked my key back into my pocket.
The chain was next, then the deadbolt – but I stopped myself as I reached for both.
The police had Marcus now. We didn't have to barricade ourselves in here anymore. I let my hand fall to my side with a silent sigh of relief.
The trip to A&E went about as well as I could've hoped.
No concussion for Rowan this time, thank God, and no need for stitches.
Just a touch of frostbite and a brutal headache that would stick around for a few days.
His wrists were raw from the cable ties but not cut deep, so the nurse wrapped them up and said to keep them clean until they healed.
They sent him home with painkillers and something for the nausea, told him to stay hydrated, rest, and keep the lights low.
I glanced over to see him reluctantly reach for the lamp. He'd winced every time we passed something too bright on the way home, so I gently tugged his sleeve and steered him away. I didn't want to make things harder on him.
I helped ease the coat from his shoulders, then unwound the scarf from around his neck. He was too tired to argue or insist he could do it himself. His movements were slow and sluggish. Everything had finally caught up to him now that we were home.
I draped the coat over the back of the nearest chair and quickly slid out of my own. Rowan pulled his glasses off and let out a quiet sigh as he pressed a hand over his eyes.
"You good?" I asked softly.
"Yeah... Just wiped."
"Gee, I wonder why." I wrapped my arms around him, and he didn't resist. He just leaned in and melted into it.
I held him for a long moment and let the silence settle around us.
My own nerves hadn't quite calmed down yet, but being home with him in my arms took some of the edge off.
The worst of this was finally over. We'd made it out.
Now that I'd stopped moving, though, I was close to crashing myself.
But I refused to until he was taken care of.
"Well," I said, giving his back a slow rub, "I think you are officially entitled to a nice, long nap."
He gave a quiet chuckle. "Might sleep for a week after this."
I pulled back enough to look down at him. "You'd have every right to."
He didn't say anything for a while. He just took in the quiet, barely able to keep his eyes open, and I started to wonder if he'd fall asleep right there on his feet.
Then he kissed me. It wasn't desperate or frantic or heavy with leftover fear. Just tired. Soft. When he pulled back, his eyes started to gloss over with exhaustion. But his voice was clear when he said, "I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't come."
I didn't give him a chance to spiral. I pressed a quick kiss to his hair and pulled him back into my chest. "You don't have to think about that tonight. You're safe. That's what matters."
He let out a breath against my shoulder, and after a pause, he mumbled, "By the way... Since when do you moonlight as a hostage negotiator?"
A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. "That was a one-off. I'm not taking repeat clients."
"Probably for the best."
The fact that he could still manage a joke – still be so distinctly himself even with everything that happened – did something to me. He was still here. Still Rowan. He wasn't letting the trauma control him anymore.
I gave him a final squeeze and reluctantly eased back. "Come on. Let's get you to bed. It's late."
He didn’t argue. I guided him through the dark flat, keeping my pace slow to match his. In the bedroom, I pulled the curtain open to let the streetlight spill across the floor. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to see by. I left the main light off.
Rowan tossed his glasses onto the nightstand and dropped onto the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh. He'd probably fall asleep right there if he sat still for more than a minute or two.
I opened the dresser to grab one of his button-up pyjama shirts, then brought it over and crouched to carefully help him out of his jumper. I did my best to avoid jarring his head too much, and I tried not to bump the bandages on his wrists. He let me do it without protest.
I eased the clean shirt over his arms, and the fabric slipped easily into place. I started on the buttons, working from the top down. When I reached the bottom, I smoothed the collar gently, then leaned in to tap my nose against his. "I'll let you finish up."
I started to stand, but he reached out to catch my hand. His fingers curled around mine, not tightly but enough to stop me. Then he gave a gentle tug, and I let him pull me back down. Our lips met in a kiss that was slower this time, more deliberate.
I should've stepped back. I knew that. But the way he looked at me made it impossible. So I kissed him again. He met me halfway. Gentle at first, but then his hand slid up, curled around the back of my neck, and pulled me in deeper.
The next kiss wasn’t slow.
He coaxed me off balance, and before I could catch myself, he guided me down with him. I braced an arm beside him to keep from putting my full weight on him, but he didn’t seem to care. He just pulled me closer.
I let myself fall into it for a moment. His mouth was warm, familiar. God, I wanted him. Everything in me ached to give him whatever he needed – but then I felt the faint tremor in his hand, the subtle way his body tensed beneath me.
I pulled back slowly, my forehead resting against his as I caught my breath. “Rowan,” I said, soft but firm. “Hey.”
His eyes opened, glassy and unfocused. It took a second for him to catch up.
I brushed my thumb over the edge of his jaw. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy. Remember?"
A flicker of frustration passed over his face, but it was gone just as fast. He didn’t argue or try to pull me back in. He just settled back against the sheets and let out a breath. “I know.”
I kissed his temple and gave the side of his head a gentle nudge with mine. “You’re not doing anything wrong. Just not tonight. Okay? After you feel better.”
He nodded against me. Reluctant, but understanding.
I leaned down and kissed him again. Just enough for him to feel it, and then I let my lips press to his cheek before I eased back. “Finish getting changed. I’ll be right back.”
He nodded again, eyes already half-closed.
I stepped out and headed to the sitting room where I kept my bag next to the sofa.
My body started to drag with every movement as I dug out my own night clothes and changed where I stood.
Afterwards, I rubbed my eyes and leaned against the wall for a second.
The adrenaline had finally burned off, and a bone-deep exhaustion started to take over.
My mind momentarily circled back to the way Rowan pulled me down.
How he'd kissed me without hesitation and held on tight.
We'd only been official for a few weeks.
After everything he'd been through – and now this latest stunt from Marcus – I thought it would be longer before he was ready to let someone touch him again. Even me.
But he didn't shut down. He didn't pull away. He reached out, stayed present. Wanted it. That stuck with me more than anything.
I pushed off the wall and made my way back into the bedroom. Rowan had finished changing and was already under the covers, waiting quietly. He watched as I came in, and I crossed to the window to pull the curtain shut again. I didn't want the light to aggravate his headache in the morning.
I slid into bed and turned onto my side to face him. Rowan moved in as soon as the mattress dipped. He closed the space between us and settled in against my chest, his hand landing somewhere near my side. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him in properly.
His breathing evened out as I held him there, and the tension slowly eased from his shoulders. It wasn’t long before every part of him relaxed and went completely still.
I stayed like that for a while, listening to the quiet noises outside. Then my eyes drifted shut and I finally let myself sleep, too.
* * *
The police station was quiet when we stepped inside, and it smelled of stale coffee and printer ink.
Rowan and I paused just inside the door.
His headache had eased up over the past couple of days, but I knew he was still a little sensitive to these kinds of bright lights.
As it was, he squinted a bit at the fluorescents near the entrance.
He looked better, at least. He had more colour to his face and was steadier on his feet. He didn't need the nausea meds today, either, so that was a win.
"Well! Look who survived the weekend."
Charlie came into view around the corner, all casual smirk and rolled-up sleeves. Another officer followed a few steps behind with a clipboard in her hand.
His eyes flicked between me and Rowan, then down to where our hands were joined. "Glad you two finally figured that out. I was starting to think I'd have to file a missing persons report on both your senses."
Rowan made a noise that sounded a little bit like a laugh.
I raised an eyebrow and tried to look annoyed – though, actually, a grin was trying to tug at my lips. "You done?"
"For now." He nodded toward the officer behind him. "This is DC Chandra. Rowan, you're with her. Eli, you're with me."
Rowan gave me a glance. Not nervous, exactly, but it was definitely a look that asked if I was still with him. I gave him a small nod and squeezed his hand before he let go and followed Chandra down the opposite hallway.
Charlie jerked his head toward a nearby office, then headed inside. I followed him in and pushed the door closed behind me. He motioned for me to sit down before he started rummaging in a drawer.
As I sank into the chair across from his desk, I couldn't keep my mouth shut. "Still can't quite believe you're with the police. Last time I checked, you were getting detention every other day."
He snickered. "Not every other day."
"You broke into Mr. Duffy's car."
"It was for the Halloween prank! And you and Rowan both helped."
"Still breaking and entering, mate."
He smirked, completely unrepentant. "And yet, we never got in trouble. What does that tell you?"
"It tells me the universe has a real fucked-up sense of humour."
He laughed out loud at that. "Fair."
When he finally found whatever he was looking for, he flipped through a few pages and straightened in his seat. The grin faded, though not completely. "Alright. I've heard a lot about what's been happening from Rowan already. Now I need your side of it."
I sat back as I tried to pull the last several months into something that resembled a straight timeline.
I walked him through it from the start – how I saw things start to shift with Marcus, how Rowan started to pull away from me, the beating, the stalking.
Every now and then, Charlie jotted some notes down.
And then I admitted what I hadn't told Rowan yet. "It wasn't just him, either. Marcus started to come after me, too."
His brow lifted slightly, but he didn't interrupt.
"Started with texts. Then voicemails. I didn't tell Rowan. Marcus was wearing him down enough on his own. He didn't need any more stress."
"You still have them?"
I nodded and pulled my phone from my pocket, unlocking it and opening the text thread before handing it over.
Charlie spent a few minutes going through them.
For the most part, he kept his expression unchanged, but I did occasionally catch a crack in the mask.
That's when I knew he'd gotten to the really bad ones.
He wrote a few more things down, then slid the device across the desk to me.
"I'll need copies of those before you leave. You wanna bring up the calls?"
I took the phone back to dial into my voicemail. I skipped over some of the older ones that had nothing to do with this, but when I reached the first one from Marcus, I put it on speaker and set it on the desk.
The room echoed with his voice. It was the kind of tone that tried to pass for reasonable but felt off in a way that was tough to explain. Flat. Calm. Measured. Charlie kept quiet throughout, his pen idle as he listened to the string of a dozen or so messages.
As the minutes went on, I could hear the subtle turn in Marcus's words. They tightened just a little more with each voicemail as his carefully practised patience started to fray at the edges.
Then the last message began to play. The one that made me want to hunt the bastard down the first time I heard it. This voicemail was different. The mask was long gone, and what came through was raw and ugly in a way the others hadn't been.
"You don't know when to quit, do ya? You're not invincible, Elias. And I don't like loose ends."
His next words were soft, almost casual, but they sent a bolt of ice straight through my chest. "I could make you disappear, and Rowan wouldn't miss ya. He listens to me. And if he doesn't... Well. Accidents happen. Don't they?"
A dead click. The room stayed eerily quiet for a moment after that.
Charlie let out a slow breath. "Jesus. And you guys dealt with this how long?"
"I met him in August. I don't know when Rowan got involved with him."
He shook his head and muttered, "Guy's a goddamn Jekyll and Hyde. That was not the lad I saw at the park."
"Yeah. He's good at playing the victim."
His mouth twitched with the start of a grin as he scribbled a few more notes. "I wonder if we'll find a secret lab when we search his flat. Maybe he's got some mad scientist equipment."
I shot him a flat look while trying hard not to laugh. "Yes, Charlie, I'm sure he's running a full-fledged villain's lair out of his overpriced kitchen."
"It would explain a lot, though, yeah?"
I couldn't fully hold back a chuckle.
"Well," he said as he tucked away his notes, "the good news is, we've got plenty to keep him locked away. No judge worth his salt would let this rat out on bail."
Good. That news didn't undo the damage done to Rowan, but at least now he could truly relax.
Charlie stood and picked up my phone. "I'll get what I need off this and bring it right back. Unless there's something on it you don't want me to see."
I shrugged. "If you find porn in my downloads, that's on you."
He barked a laugh and clapped me on the shoulder as he left.