I gripped the camera and gave it a tug to make sure it was secure, then opened the app on my phone. As I angled the lens toward Rowan's door, my mind drifted to the look he gave me when I arrived with the small box. He didn't argue, but there was hesitation in his eyes that he didn't bother trying to hide.
He may have agreed to this, but I could tell he didn't like the idea.
I didn't push the matter. I just told him I'd take care of it, and he nodded once before disappearing into the spare bedroom and closing the door.
Maybe it wasn't the camera that got to him. He retreated almost as soon as I got there today, like the rest of the world was too loud for him to tolerate. I knew what he was doing. He was pulling back again, just like he did after the beating.
Once the camera was adjusted, I sat on the ladder and stared aimlessly at the livestream on my phone. Rowan had come so far these past few weeks. He was talking more. Letting me in again. And now we were all the way back at square one.
What the hell was I supposed to do with that? How was I supposed to help him climb out of this if a text was enough tosend him spiralling again?
I didn't blame him. None of this was his fault. But it scared me to see how fast everything could slip. I'd started to think he might be okay again, and now he acted like he didn't even trust the air in his own flat.
My attention snapped elsewhere when I heard footsteps climbing the stairs at the far end of the hall. It set me on edge before I could stop myself. Stupid, probably. But after last night, it didn't take much to kick my own nerves on high alert anymore.
I relaxed as soon as Mrs Cavanagh came into view. She carried a couple of shopping bags, and her cheeks were a little pink from the nippy wind outside. When she spotted me on the ladder, a look of amused suspicion appeared on her face. Equal parts curiosity and concern.
"Well, now," she called out, adjusting one of the bags. "What kind of trouble are you stirring up this time, young man?"
I gave her a faint smile, but that was all I could manage. "Just adding a bit of security."
She tilted her head, then looked up to where I pointed at the dark corner. She squinted and adjusted her glasses before her expression changed. "Oh. Didn't even see it."
Good. Then Marcus wouldn't, either.
Her amusement faded quickly after that. She stepped a little closer, shifting both bags to one hand as she pulled out her keys. "Did something happen?"
"He got some texts from Marcus last night. New number. Caught him off guard."
"Oh, no."
"Yeah. Sent him into a full-blown panic attack. He's not in a great place right now."
She looked up at the camera again and let out a heavy sigh. "So he's not gone, after all." Her voice dropped. "Bloodycoward. I ought to string him up by his – " She stopped herself, but just barely.
The corner of my mouth twitched at the thought of this little old lady going off on Marcus. It was comforting to know that Rowan had someone else to watch out for him when I couldn't be there. Mrs Cavanagh had a fire in her that I admired, and I wondered if he understood how fiercely protective of him she was.
She adjusted her bags again as she turned toward her door. "You remind Rowan that if he needs anything, all he's got to do is knock. Or shout. I don't care which."
"I will. Thanks."
I assumed that to be the end of it as she unlocked her door. But before she stepped inside, she turned to me again with a serious look. "That boy's been through enough. You take care of him, Elias. Don't let that snake get his hooks back into him."
The venom in her voice surprised me. For a second, I wondered if she reallycouldhandle Marcus if they ever crossed paths, and I made a mental note to stay off her bad side.
I straightened where I sat. "He won't. Not while I'm here."
She gave a satisfied nod before disappearing behind her door. After I heard her lock click, I gathered the empty box, tools, and the step ladder and let myself back into Rowan's flat.
I didn't see him anywhere. The kitchen was empty, the sitting room undisturbed. I figured he must still be in the spare room. If he needed quiet, I didn't want to bother him, so I let it be and occupied myself with putting everything away.
Afterwards, I headed to the bathroom sink and flicked on the light. The glare of the mirror was harsher than I expected as I leaned down to turn on the tap and splash some cold water on my face. The shock of it helped shake off the weight pressing behind my eyes, but not for long.
When I looked up, I caught sight of myself in the mirror.
Christ. I looked tired. Not "I slept like shit" tired. Worn-thin tired. There was a tightness to my face I hadn't noticed before, and I saw a shadow of stubble along my jaw from not bothering with a razor for a couple of days.
I let out a slow breath and braced both hands on the edge of the sink. Rowan was the one falling apart, but if I wasn't careful, I'd unravel right along with him.
