Then my phone lit up with a new text:Change the locks on me, too, did ya?
My blood turned to ice.
I stared at the screen. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to do something, but nothing was firing right. My chest tightened. The back of my neck prickled. Why was Marcus trying to let himself in? I took back my spare key. He didn't have a way to –
Wait.
He made a copy. At some point after I gave it to him, he must have made a fucking copy. Thank God Mr Hodges thought to change the locks.
A sharp knock startled me out of my thoughts. I flinched and nearly dropped the phone.
I sidestepped fast and pressed my back flat to the wall, out of sight of the door. My heart pounded so loud I was sure it could be heard through the floorboards. My breaths came shallow, but somehow I kept enough control to not hyperventilate. Yet.
"Rowan. Open up. We need to talk."
I knew that tone. Smooth. Composed. The same voice he used to sound reasonable when he wanted control without raising his voice. But something was off this time. I heard a darker edge beneath the calm. Almost mocking. Like he knew Iwouldn't open the door and was daring me to prove him wrong.
My legs threatened to buckle, so I sat down as quietly as I could. Maybe if I waited him out, he'd think I wasn't home and go away. My grip tightened around my phone, which reminded me I was going to check the camera. I unlocked the screen again with shaking hands and tapped on the app. The loading screen took forever.
The live feed finally popped into view. Marcus stood right outside my door, leaning in as if to listen for movement.
He knocked again. Even though I saw it coming on the camera, my body still jerked like I'd been shocked. The sound cracked across my nerves and sent a bolt of cold down my spine.
"Come on, Rowan. We can talk this out. I just want to see you." His tone had changed again. It was softer now. Coaxing. Almost sing-song in the way that a parent talked to a child who'd thrown a tantrum and needed gentle handling.
My pulse spiked. The flat suddenly felt too small. The walls too close. I could hear my breathing picking up again. The edges of my vision blurred, and panic pressed at the back of my throat.
No, no, no, not again.
I shut my eyes and forced my breath in. Slow. Deep. Like Eli had taught me. Inhale. Count. Exhale. I pictured him in front of me, doing it with me. The rise and fall of his chest. The way his voice steadied me even when everything else cracked.
It helped... A little. Not enough to feel safe, but enough to keep the spiral from dragging me under. My hands still shook, and every muscle in my body felt ready to snap, but at least I could breathe.
But what was I supposed to do if Marcus didn't go away? I couldn't hide in the kitchen forever. And no way inhellwas I about to open that door.
"Don't make me wait out here all day. You know I don'tlike being ignored." The false sweetness was gone. Just like that, his patience had a time limit.
I wanted to call Eli, but I also didn't want to drag him into this. If I called, I knew he'd be here in a matter of minutes. And that meant he'd be pulled into a direct confrontation with Marcus.
Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, I heard another voice in the hall. "For God's sake, what are you doing here?"
I froze again. That sounded like Mrs Cavanagh. My eyes shot down at the livestream to see her standing at her open door with a scowl on her face and her hands braced on her hips.
Marcus had his back to the camera now, so I couldn't see his face. But his tone made it clear he didn't appreciate the interruption. "It's none of your business, lady. Mind your own."
Mrs Cavanagh, bless her, wasn't having any of it. "Itismy business when you're disturbing the peace. Rowan doesn't want to see you, so bugger off."
A surge of panic shot up my throat. Marcus didn't hesitate to let off on me when he felt threatened. I didn't doubt one bit he'd go after an old woman.
His voice cut through the air, louder now and more aggressive. "You don't know anything, you old bat. Back off."
Mrs Cavanagh's expression hardened. "I know enough to see you're trouble. Get lost before I call the police."
Marcus tightened his hands into fists and took a step in her direction. I couldn't watch this. I couldn't let him hurt her. I had to do something.
I tried to push myself up. My hands braced on the floor, but my legs refused to work. My arms couldn't find the strength to hold me up, either, and I ended up just sitting there as my pulse roared in my ears. Frustration burned hotter than the fear now – because for once, I actually wanted to move, and my body wouldn't fucking let me.
"Marcus."
