I knew I couldn't avoid it. But as much as I was trying to brace for it, I didn't want him to leave it alone. I didn't want him to walk away.
God, I didn't want to lose him. Not over this. Not when I'd already lost so much. Eli was all I had left, and if he drifted away, it'd be one more win for Marcus. One more thing he took from me without even lifting a finger.
My thoughts drifted to earlier that morning. Just after sunrise, I'd returned to Marcus's flat with a police officer. It felt surreal to stand there just hours after he attacked me to find everything so quiet and still. Marcus answered the door shirtless and bleary-eyed. But he didn't say a word. Didn't try to stop us. He just stepped aside and let us in.
The rage was there, though. I felt it radiating from every inch of him. But he kept it in check. Maybe because of theofficer, maybe because he thought it wasn't worth the trouble. Either way, he didn't speak. Not to me.
I moved quickly to grab my bag and double-checked that nothing was missing – phone, wallet, keys, everything for work. I took back the spare key to my flat that I'd stupidly given him a couple of months earlier and snatched a few other things I'd left behind. I never once looked him in the eye.
But I could feel his stare. Heavy. Unblinking. Like he was trying to set me on fire with just his gaze. I didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Not even when I saw the scratches. A few long, red slashes along his arms, faint but still angry-looking. I hadn't been able to get him off me in the moment, but seeing the marks... It was a tiny win.
When we stepped back outside, the officer didn't speak to me right away. He just walked beside me until we got to his car. He finally asked for probably the third time that morning if I wanted to press charges, but I didn't. I just wanted a clean break from Marcus. He likely thought I was an idiot, but he didn't try to convince me and just gave me a ride home.
Getting to my feet took some effort. My legs were stiff from sitting on the bed for too long, and everything still ached in ways I didn't want to think about. But I moved, anyway, leaving the bedroom to grab my bag from where it sat on the sofa.
I slid the zipper open and pulled out my phone first. I tossed it to the side and kept digging until I found the folder the nurse had handed me before I left A&E.
I'd gotten the drug tests done. Answered their questions as vaguely as I could without raising alarms. When the results came back, I almost didn't want to see them. But I needed to know.
I opened the folder and stared at the first paper tucked inside, even though I'd already looked at it a dozen times thatmorning. The words didn't change. The result didn't change. It stared back at me in clean, clinical print:Positive.
Marcus must've slipped it into that first glass of wine. At least now I knew I wasn't losing it. I wasn't being dramatic or paranoid or imagining things.
There was something else tucked behind the result paper. Sheets with information and resources. Phone numbers. Helplines. I wasn't surprised that someone suspected something, but I didn't have the energy to deal with it right now. I hadn't slept since I woke up groggy and sore in Marcus's flat, and the exhaustion was starting to get to me. I'd reached my limit hours ago.
I closed the folder and slipped it into the desk drawer. I'd look at all of that later. Right now, I had to save my strength to deal with Eli.
A sharp knock at the door made me jump.
I flinched and glanced at the clock on the wall. I'd barely been home for twenty minutes. My heart climbed into my throat as I processed what that sound meant.
Eli must've seen me leave the school. It wouldn't have taken him long to guess where I was headed. If he knew I was home, of course he would come straight here. He could be impatient sometimes. Especially when he thought I was hiding something.
Even so, I stayed frozen in place and stared at the door. Part of me wanted to ignore it and pretend I wasn't home. Let him assume I was too tired or busy or just not ready. But then another knock came. Louder. Quicker. More urgent.
I sighed. He knew me too well. He wouldn't buy the silence. And I couldn't put this off forever.
I walked slowly to the door, steeling myself for whatever came next. Eli would see the bruises. He'd know. I wouldn't be able to hide it from him anymore. May as well get it over with.
I hesitated with my hand on the knob and took one last breath to steady my nerves. Then I unlocked the door and pulled it open.
A hand clamped around my throat and shoved –hard. I almost lost my balance before my back slammed against the wall with a thud that rattled my teeth, and pain shot down my neck. I gasped, already breathless from the pressure as the door slammed shut.
Marcus. His face was twisted in a way I'd never seen before. Rage curled at the corners of his mouth, but his eyes were empty. Cold. Focused.
My body surged with panic. Every instinct screamed at me to fight, to run, to move ... but I couldn't. My limbs didn't respond. I froze.
His other hand seized my wrist, the one still raw from the belt. I barely had time to react before he punched it into the wall by my head. The impact made a sharp crack echo through the flat, and white-hot pain radiated through my arm.
"You think you can humiliate me?" he hissed. His breath was hot and sour, too close to my face. "You think you can bring the fucking police to my door and just walk away?" His grip tightened on my throat. Not enough to choke me, but it still hurt. Enough to remind me who was in control right now.
"My neighbours asked questions," he went on, his voice low and seething. "Mybossgot wind of it. You think that kind of thing doesn't get around? You think you can turn me into some kind of monster and everyone's gonna take your side?"
His grip on my wrist tightened, grinding it into the plaster. Any more force, and my wrist would snap.
"You don't make the rules, Rowan. You don't decide how this ends."
