Elias hasn't let me come over since I shoved him at the hospital. It hurts more than I expected it to. More than it probably should. It makes me want to isolate myself and drown in my own self-pity. But that isn't who I am.

At least not normally.

Instead, I've been thinking about what I can do to help Elias. To start fixing what I messed up.

I thought maybe smoothing over his ticket would be a good start. After wrecking his motorcycle, he received a hefty fine for reckless driving, speeding, and a few other infractions. I figured I'd pull some strings, see if I could lessen the damage. A gesture, you know? Something to show him that even if I'm mad, I'm still here. Still in his corner.

Still his.

But now I'm sitting at my desk at the precinct, staring at my computer screen, and I feel like I've just been punched in the gut. The spreadsheet in front of me is longer than anything I've seen in a while. Offenses stretching back years, most of them from his youth. The majority are sealed, but I'm a nosy bastard. I dug deeper than I probably should have, and now I wish I hadn't.

The Elias I know, the Elias I thought I knew, isn't the guy staring back at me from these reports.

Juvenile charges that read like a rap sheet for a kid who was angry at the world: possession of drugs, destruction of property, petty theft, assault. And then there's the more recent stuff. Reckless driving, public intoxication, more destruction of property, a couple of assault charges that weren't dismissed.

I lean back in my chair, running a hand down my face. The fluorescent lights overhead buzz softly, a constant white noise that does nothing to drown out the storm brewing in my chest.

Who the fuck is this guy?

The Elias I've seen over the past few months, the confident, charming, occasionally reckless man who could light up a room, feels like a stranger compared to the one on this screen. I knew he had a past. He's never exactly hidden that. But this? This is more than a "past." This is a goddamn minefield.

I think about Valarie. About the way her face lit up when she talked about Elias the night we all got together for the first time. About the way she looks at him now. And I think about how easily he could've lost her in that crash. How easily he could've lost everything.

And then there's me. The way my stomach twists when I think about him. The way I couldn't stop picturing his bruised face after the wreck, or how he looked at me in the hospital with something between anger and guilt in his eyes.

Fuck.

I slam my laptop shut, the sound echoing in the small office. A couple of heads turn in my direction, but I don't care. Let them look. I need air. I need space.

I grab my keys and head out of the precinct, ignoring the questioning glance from my partner. Once I'm outside, the crisp air hits me like a slap, and I take a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs. It doesn't help. My head's still spinning.

Why didn't he tell me? About any of this?

A part of me knows the answer. Elias doesn't let people in. Not fully, anyway. He's all charm and confidence on the surface, but underneath? He's a fucking fortress. And I thought maybe I'd started to find the cracks in the walls. I thought I'd earned his trust. But now I'm not so sure.

I lean against the hood of my car, staring out at the parking lot. I can't stop picturing him. Younger, angrier, more reckless. A kid trying to survive in a world that seemed determined to knock him down. And yeah, maybe I get it. Maybe I've seen enough in my line of work to know that some people get dealt a shitty hand, and they do what they have to do to get through it.

But that doesn't make this any easier to swallow.

I think about the last time I saw him. How he looked at me with something like betrayal when I shoved him at the hospital. How he didn't even try to fight back. And now I can't help but wonder if that was guilt I saw in his eyes. Guilt for the crash, sure, but maybe for something more.

I don't know what to do with this. With any of it.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling me out of my thoughts. I pull it out and see Valarie's name on the screen. For a second, I debate ignoring it. But then I picture her face, bruised and smiling despite it all, and I hit accept.

"Hey," I say, my voice rougher than I intended.

"Hey," she says softly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I lie.

She doesn't call me out on it, but I can hear the doubt in her silence. "I just wanted to check in. Elias has been quiet all day. Adrian's been with him, but... I don't know. I thought maybe you'd heard from him."

I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I haven't."

"Okay." Her voice is soft, understanding. "Do you want to come over tonight? Just you and me? We can talk. Or not. Whatever you need."

I almost say no. I almost tell her I need space, time to process all of this on my own. But then I think about her, and Elias, and everything we're trying to build together. And I know I can't do this alone.

"I'll be there," I say, my voice steadying.

"Good," she says. And even though I can't see her, I know she's smiling.

I hang up and stare down at the phone in my hand. This thing with Elias... it's not going away. And I have no fucking clue how to handle it. But one thing's for sure, I can't walk away from him. From any of this.

I won't.

***

Valarie opens the door before I even knock. Her green eyes are shadowed, and the exhaustion on her face mirrors what I feel. She's in leggings and an oversized sweater, the kind that makes her look soft and touchable, but the worry etched into her expression hardens me inside. Her blue cast barely pokes out of her long sleeves.

"Hey," she says softly, stepping aside to let me in. Her voice is careful, like she's afraid I might break.

"Hey," I reply, stepping inside and closing the door behind me. Her apartment is small and familiar, the faint scent of vanilla candles in the air. Normally, being here calms me, but tonight it feels suffocating.

We sit on the couch, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. She curls her legs under her, tucking herself into the corner like she's trying to make herself smaller. I lean forward, my elbows on my knees, running a hand through my hair.

"Still nothing from Elias?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.

She shakes her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Adrian said he's there, but he hasn't said much. I don't know how much longer Adrian can keep this up."

The frustration bubbling inside me cracks through. "This is fucking killing me, Val. He's shutting us out like we're strangers."

Her gaze softens as she reaches out, her fingers brushing against my forearm. "I know. It's killing me too."

I let out a harsh breath, leaning back against the couch and staring at the ceiling. "It's not just that he's shutting us out," I admit. "It's that I-" I stop myself, but the words are already there, pushing against my teeth. "I found something, Val. About his past."

She straightens, her brows furrowing. "What do you mean?"

I hesitate, the weight of what I'm about to say settling heavily on my chest. "I was looking into his reckless driving ticket," I begin. "Trying to see if I could help. And I... I found his record. His juvenile record."

Her eyes widen, but she doesn't interrupt. She just waits, her hand still on my arm, grounding me.

"Drugs. Assault. Destruction of property. It's... it's bad, Val. And the more I read, the more I realized how much he's been hiding. How much I don't know about him. How much I've been ignoring."

She exhales sharply, her hand tightening on my arm. "Declan, Elias isn't his past. You know that, right?"

"I thought I did," I admit. "But now I'm not so sure. He's been hiding this part of himself from us, from me, and it's... it's fucking with my head."

Her gaze softens, and she shifts closer, her knee brushing against mine. "He's not hiding, Declan. Not really. He's just... scared. He told me a little bit about his mom the other day, after the crash."

The mention of his mom sends a pang through my chest. "What did he say?"

Valarie looks down, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her sweater. "She wasn't a good mom. She drank, used drugs, made promises she never kept. He spent his whole life waiting for her to be the person he needed, and she never was. And now she's gone, and he's filled with all this anger and... and grief. He said he'll never get closure."

Her words hit me like a gut punch, and I let out a shaky breath. "Fuck," I whisper, raking a hand through my hair. "I shoved him, Val. I shoved him at the hospital. I was so fucking angry, and now... now I feel like the world's biggest asshole."

She reaches up, cupping my face in her hands, forcing me to look at her. "Declan, you're not an asshole. You were scared, and angry, and you reacted. But you care about him. He knows that."

I close my eyes, leaning into her touch. "I don't know how to fix this."

She strokes her thumb along my cheek, her voice gentle but firm. "You fix it by being there for him. By showing him he doesn't have to do this alone."

I open my eyes, meeting her steady gaze. Her belief in me is humbling, grounding. I nod, my resolve hardening. "You're right. I need to talk to him."

She smiles faintly, lowering her hands. "Good. But don't go in guns blazing, okay? He needs someone to listen, not lecture."

I chuckle dryly. "I'll do my best."

We sit in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling around us. Then I push myself to my feet, grabbing my jacket from the back of the couch.

"Where are you going?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

"To see him," I say, my tone resolute. "I can't wait any longer. He needs to know he's not alone in this."

Her expression softens, and she stands, wrapping her good arm around me in a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispers against my chest.

"For what?"

"For being you."

I press a kiss to the top of her head, my chest tightening with emotion. "Always."

With that, I leave her apartment, my mind racing as I head to my car. The drive to Elias's place feels longer than usual, every second stretching out like an eternity. By the time I pull into his driveway, my palms are sweaty, and my heart is pounding.

This is it. Time to stop avoiding the hard conversations. Time to show Elias that I'm here, no matter what.

Even if he doesn't want me to be.