Chapter 5

Elijah's POV

When I got back to the Lawson Villa, the porch light was still on.

I stood on the front steps, not going in right away. The night wind pressed against my back, chilling the nape of my neck. My hand still held a trace of warmth—the feeling of her calf beneath my palm. Cold. Rigid. Muscles spasming beneath the skin.

I clenched my fist, forcing that warmth away.

Pushed open the door. The kitchen light was on, the microwave humming as it turned, filling the entire first floor with its drone. Sidney leaned against the counter, his phone propped next to a water glass, video-chatting with Rufus and the others.

The screen was loud. Someone laughing. Someone shouting.

"She's fine," Sidney's voice carried from the kitchen, casual and amused. "She always figures it out herself."

I stopped in the entryway.

Didn't even take off my shoes. Just walked straight into the kitchen.

"Elijah? You're back." Sidney shifted his phone to the side, that lingering smile still on his face. "Where'd you go?"

I didn't answer.

My eyes landed on the refrigerator door.

The note was still there. Blue magnet holding down the corner. I'd seen it this afternoon when I came in for water after pull-ups.

Mom's handwriting—

[Sidney, remember to take Aurelia to her competition tomorrow! Her parents aren't home!]

A line drawn under "competition." The ink had bled slightly, as if she'd pressed down hard while writing.

"Elijah?" Sidney called again.

I reached up and tore the note down. The magnet hit the floor, bounced once, and rolled into the corner. As I moved, the laughter from the kitchen seemed to cut off, as if someone had choked it.

I walked up to Sidney and slapped the note against his chest.

"Hang up."

Someone on the screen laughed. "What's going on? Sidney, your brother giving you a lecture?"

Sidney looked uncomfortable. He picked up his phone, muttered "Later," and ended the call.

The kitchen went quiet. Only the microwave hums low.

"What's this?" He glanced down.

"Mom wrote it to you."

"I know." He frowned, his tone impatient. "I just didn't notice it."

Didn't notice.

I stared at him. He'd stood in front of that note all day. Opened the fridge countless times. Never noticed.

"Aurelia's competition ended tonight. She missed the last bus."

Sidney blinked. "She didn't tell me."

"She called you twice."

He opened his mouth. "My phone was on silent."

"She couldn't get a ride. So she called the house."

"The house?" Sidney's expression finally changed. His shoulders tensed. "She called the landline?"

"I answered."

"She walked toward downtown alone. Passed an empty lot. Three men surrounded her. One of them grabbed her arm."

Sidney crumpled the note in his hand, the paper crinkling softly.

"What?"

"The fingerprints are still there. Bruised purple on her right arm."

His face went pale. His lips moved, but no words came out.

After a few seconds, his shoulders slowly relaxed. "But she's okay now, right?"

"Good thing you went." He exhaled, reaching up to pat my shoulder. "Thanks, Elijah."

The words of thanks fell between us, light as air.

I looked down at his hand resting on my shoulder. Clean knuckles. Neatly trimmed nails. No scrapes. No bruises. Nothing like mine.

I grabbed his wrist and moved it away.

"You think a 'thanks' makes this okay?"

"That's not what I meant." His brow furrowed. "Of course I'm worried about her."

"You didn't even look at this note."

"I've had a lot going on."

"A lot going on, so you didn't know she had a competition?"

"I didn't say I didn't know. I just forgot."

"Mom was worried you'd forget. She wrote you a note. How many times a day do you open the fridge? And you never saw it once?"

Sidney's voice dropped. "I really didn't think something like this would happen."

"Of course you didn't think." I stepped forward. "Because you had no idea where she was."

He stood frozen. Rooted in place, note crushed in his hand, knuckles white.

The microwave stopped. The smell of reheated food spread through the air, thick and stifling.

The kitchen fluorescent light burned too bright.

Sidney's expression shifted to unease. He hesitated. "I'll go see her tomorrow. I'll call and apologize."

"If that's all you're going to do, what right do you have to say you care about her?"

He looked up, his eyes reddening slightly. "She's my girlfriend. Of course I care about her."

"Then remember her competitions. Answer her calls. Know where she is. Don't leave her standing alone in the dark."

Sidney said nothing.

I turned and left the kitchen.

"Elijah, I really didn't know it would be like this."

My steps paused. "Now you do."

Sidney's voice disappeared.

I went upstairs and closed my bedroom door.

The room was pitch black. The curtains were open, streetlight seeping through the gap, casting a thin, bright line across the ceiling.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time. Elbows on my knees, staring down at my hands.

My knuckles had a few split scrapes from tonight's fight. The blood had dried, crusted into dark scabs. There was a graze on the web of my right thumb. It didn't hurt.

These hands had taken down three men tonight. They'd also opened a door for Aurelia. Treated her wounds. Worked out the rigid muscles in her calf.

None of it should have been my job.

She wasn't my responsibility. She was Sidney's girlfriend.

But I couldn't stop myself from wanting to take care of Aurelia.