Chapter 13: Uninvited

It started with a knot.

Low in her stomach. A twist behind her ribs that she couldn't explain. Not pain, exactly. Not even panic. Just something... off. A shift in the air around her. Like the silence in the woods right before something breaks from the trees.

Eliot had texted that morning.

Short. Polite.

Hope today's not awful. Coffee's on me tomorrow.

The words looked normal. Sounded normal. But something about them felt strained, like they were typed with one eye on the clock and the other on a locked door. Too neat. Too... careful.

She told herself not to overreact.

Didn't listen.

She grabbed her keys. Shrugged on her jacket. Didn't bother with makeup or a bag. Didn't call. Didn't text.

She just drove.

No warning. No permission. No plan.

Uninvited.

The apartment complex looked the same. Grey concrete. Narrow stairs. Rust on the railing. She parked two spots over from where she had last time and climbed quietly, shoes barely making a sound on the steps. The hallway light above 4B flickered once, then held steady.

She was just raising her hand to knock when she heard it.

Voices.

One was Eliot—low, familiar, contained.

The other was new.

Male. Rough. Sharp around the edges.

"You're not even gonna ask how he's doing? Jesus, Eliot. He sent me because he thought you'd actually give a damn."

A pause.

Then Eliot's voice: tight. Controlled.

"I give a damn. I just don't give you money."

"Oh, come on. I'm not here for me."

"You're always here for you."

"You're such a stuck-up little—"

A thud. Something hitting a table. Or a wall.

That was enough.

Lena knocked, hard. Once. Sharp.

The voices cut off.

Footsteps moved toward the door. A pause. Then it swung open.

The man who answered wasn't Eliot.

He filled the doorway like it was too narrow for him. Over six feet, wide shoulders, the kind of build that said gym five times a week, not for health, but habit. His head was shaved. A faint scar slashed above one brow. He wore a battered leather jacket and radiated heat—not warmth, just presence. Unapologetic. Territorial.

He didn't smile.

"Who the hell are you?"

Lena blinked slowly. "Friend."

He didn't move.

Didn't open the door wider.

But behind him, she caught a flash of movement.

Eliot.

Leaning against the kitchen counter. Stiff. Pale. Eyes wide the second he saw her.

"Lena?"

"I was in the neighborhood," she said smoothly, holding up the container in her hand. "Brought soup. Didn't know you had company."

The man glanced back at Eliot, then gave her a grin that didn't touch his eyes. "She yours?"

Eliot didn't answer.

Didn't need to.

The silence said enough.

The man stepped aside with fake courtesy. A performance, not a gesture.

Lena stepped past him into the apartment.

The space felt tight, like the air itself was pulled taut. A beer can on the counter. Jackets tossed over a chair. Something fragile in the room's stillness.

Eliot looked like he wanted to vanish.

"I wasn't expecting you," he said quietly.

"I know," Lena replied, setting the soup down on the table. "Didn't expect to meet your... brother?"

"Half-brother," the man cut in. "Different moms. Same disappointment of a dad."

He threw himself onto the couch like he'd done it a dozen times. Arms sprawled. Boots up on the coffee table.

"I'm Caleb," he added, watching her with interest. "Family's black sheep. Or wolf, depending who you ask."

Lena didn't smile.

"I've met wolves. They don't brag about it."

That wiped the smirk off his face for a beat.

Eliot hovered behind her, hand still on the counter like he needed it to stay upright.

"He's here because our father—" he started.

"—is dying," Caleb interrupted. "And wants his golden boy to write a check."

"It's not a check. You want rent money."

"He sent me," Caleb snapped. "I didn't ask for anything."

"No, you just showed up. Like always." Eliot's voice was sharp now. Frayed.

Caleb scoffed. "Jesus. You live in your own little museum of morals, don't you?"

Lena's gaze slid to Eliot's jaw.

The bruise was fading now. Not gone. Just dulling at the edges. Yellow and green. The kind of mark that doesn't come from accidents.

Caleb noticed her looking.

And smiled again.

"Don't worry," he said casually. "It wasn't a fight. Just a disagreement. Eliot knows I get... emotional."

"You hit him," Lena said flatly.

Caleb raised an eyebrow. "What are you, his bodyguard?"

"No," she said, eyes still on his. "I'm worse."

Something in her tone made him shift. Only slightly. But it was there.

He stood. Slow. Deliberate.

Closer now. Towering over her.

"You're protective," he muttered. "That's cute."

Lena didn't move.

Didn't blink.

"I don't protect people," she said calmly. "I end problems."

Caleb's jaw twitched.

He held her gaze for a beat longer than most men would have.

Then turned away.

"I'll give you time," he said to Eliot as he grabbed his jacket. "To think about how disappointing you want to be."

He walked to the door. Opened it.

Paused without looking back.

"You've got a nice place," he added. "Hope it survives her."

And then he was gone.

The door shut behind him with a final, solid click.

Silence filled the apartment. Heavy. Electric.

Eliot sank into a chair at the table like the floor had given out under him.

"I didn't want you to see that," he said softly.

Lena didn't answer right away. She walked to the counter. Took two mugs down. Poured water. The motions helped.

"I'm glad I did."

He looked up at her. Eyes darker than usual. Exhausted. Humiliated. But grateful, too.

"I don't want to be like him," he said. Quiet. Like it scared him to admit.

"You're not."

"Sometimes I'm afraid I will be."

Lena stepped toward him.

Set the water down.

Laid a hand gently on his shoulder.

"You haven't hit anyone."

"Not yet."

She leaned in, just enough that they were eye-level. No theatrics. Just closeness.

"Even if you ever did," she said, "I'd still know the difference between you and him."

Eliot's breath hitched. His eyes dropped. His hand came up to touch the fading bruise, like he could scrub it off, pretend it wasn't still there.

But Lena didn't look away.

Didn't flinch.

She stayed right there.

Uninvited.

And exactly where she needed to be.