Page 44 of Scars of Silk

“Faith’s not with you though?” I lift an eyebrow. I don’t want to see her, not right now. Even seeing him is too much. Knowing she’s having his child, knowing that every night they are slipping into bed with one another, experiencing something I will probably never know.

“No. You haven’t spoken to her?” He looks surprised, and it makes me pause from my angry internal shit talk.

“No. I’m off the friend list.” I don’t let him in. I stand in the doorway and block the view of inside. Last time he was here, Aiden and his mates beat him to within an inch of his life. I doubt he remembers the pale carpet he bled over.

He doesn’t look uncomfortable stood out in the street, the grey sky hanging over his head. He looks like he has no expectations to be let in.

Fuck him.

“Come in,” I grunt.

He follows me and I stand with my arms folded.

“Sienna told me you got yourself into trouble again.”

“That wasn’t her business.”

“Maybe not, but you’re Faith’s friend, and she has enough going on at the moment.”

“So? I’m staying well away. I doubt she gives a shit about me right now.”

Elijah sighs, the fight going out of him as he slumps a little. His hand rises and runs through his short hair. “Dan, I heard what you said to her the other day before you left Chesham Place. I know what you did for her, saving her life.”

“Yeah, well, that was a long time before she met you.”

“It’s irrelevant. I’m still grateful for it. And I know when my sister needed help, and I sent her to Faith, I know you helped her too.” I’d almost forgotten about the two teenagers, one knocked-up, who had turned up on my doorstep over the summer, back when I thought Faith might keep this as her home forever.

We stare at one another for a moment. I’d never realised how tall he was. I guess I never really considered it before. The first time we met it was in passing and I thought he was just one of Faith’s flings, and I was focused on Dad, anyway. The second he was in a heap on my floor. He took a beating for her. I have to give him respect for that.

“You’ve protected her too.”

Another sigh. “Not as well as I would have liked.” His eyes meet mine. “I love her, but I don’t know how to reach her. Her walls are sky high.”

I shake my head. “That’s Faith though. She’s been battling this so long she doesn’t know how to be any other way.”

“Do you think if I get it to court it will help?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Why are you asking me? Talk to her.”

“I know you love her.”

“It doesn’t matter.” The fight I hold deep inside unravels a little. “Wanna go and grab a drink? I haven’t got anything in the house.”

His gaze flickers towards the kitchen where black bin bags hold the contents of the cupboards. “Moving home?” he asks.

“Nah.” I shake my head. “Just making one.”

He holds my gaze for a moment. “A drink would be good.”

He turns for the door. There’s a pub on the corner we can walk to. As odd and strange as this whole situation is. “Wait, Elijah. You should have these.”

I pass him the paintings I’ve taken down from the walls. All by Faith, all of them hung proudly by my dad. “Look. I found these in her room. She must have done them while she was here during the summer.”

I flinch a little as his bright gaze reads my face.

Without saying a word, he shifts them slightly so he can see the pencil on paper. Sketches of him. So many I gave up counting; each one from a different angle.

“She’s never drawn a picture of me. She told me it would burn the paper or worse, her hand.”