Closer to the Edge

Rowan should’ve been thankful that Paul was hiding her behind him, but instead she was annoyed. She could defend herself and he knew that. Of course, he probably didn’t hear her yelling for a gun over all of the gunfire that was taking place in the penthouse. Glass was flying and everything was being thrown around; Rowan grabbed Paul’s arm and dragged him behind the couch.

“What are you doing?” Paul asked, while changing the clip in his gun.

“Give me a gun.”

Paul rolled his eyes. “Just stay here, Rowan,” he told her, moving to stand up.

Rowan pulled him back down. “Now, Paul!”

He didn’t hide his obvious disapproval, but that didn’t stop him from handing her his spare firearm that he had been hiding in his boot. He handed her a couple of extra clips and frowned. “Fire as little as possible. Get to the elevator and wait until Martin and Ash join you, and then leave,” he told her.

“What about you?”

“I’ll find you. Once both of them are with you, leave.”

Rowan’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “I can’t just leave you, Paul!”

Paul rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to where they were only a couple of inches apart. “Listen to me, Rowan,” he told her, keeping his voice down. “I will find you. I want you to promise me that you’re going to leave once they join you.”

“Paul—“ She really didn’t feel comfortable leaving him behind. Especially with his father. Especially after he shot his father.

“Promise me!”

Rowan didn’t want to, but she nodded, muttering those two words softly.

Paul leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I’ll find you. I promise, okay?”

Rowan nodded.

“When I start firing, I want you to run, okay?”

She nodded again, though she didn’t know why. She had never been one to run away from a fight. Of course, none of those fights had ever included guns before. So there was a first time for everything. And when Paul stood up and stared shooting, she ran as fast as she could. The elevator was in sight; maybe fifty feet away. As she passed Ash, she grabbed her arm, shooting the guy that was holding onto her, before dragging her towards the elevator.

“Where’s Martin?” Ash asked, blood running down the side of her face.

“I don’t know,” Rowan told her, pulling her into the elevator and hiding behind the wall. She wasn’t even going to try closing the doors until Martin was safe inside with them.

“Where’s Paul?”

“Still out there.”

Ash cursed and leaned out, trying to find Martin. She tried to hold back a scream as one of the men pinned her boyfriend against the wall. But when Paul came out of the woodwork and took care of him, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Paul,” she said softly. She kept an eye on her boyfriend, curious when Paul whispered something to him that caused him to shake his head. “What’s going on?”

Rowan just shook her head. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of leaving Paul behind. She told herself it was because he had fought to help her and she didn’t think it was fair to leave him. She kept her eyes on Paul, even as he pushed Martin towards the elevator and yelled at him to run.

Martin ran to the elevator, engulfing his girlfriend in a hug.

Rowan didn’t think twice. She hit the button to close the doors and didn’t look back.

Martin pulled away from Ash and pounded on the doors. “What did you do?! Paul is still in there!” he screamed.

“I’m doing what he told me to do,” Rowan told him.

“He wouldn’t have told you to leave!” Martin yelled.

“He did!” Rowan screamed, unable to stop the couple of tears that fell down her cheeks. “It wasn’t up to me, Martin!”

“Yes, it was! My best friend is still in there!”

“Guys—“ Ash attempted to interject.

“I know!” Rowan yelled, cutting Ash off. “He made me promise! You know him better than I fucking do, Martin. You know he would die to save us.”

“He shouldn’t have to!” he yelled, slamming his fists on the door. “Goddammit, Paul.”

“I didn’t want to leave him, Martin,” Rowan said, her softer, and she wiped the tears off of her cheeks.

And for the first time, Martin really looked at Rowan.

And he knew she wasn’t lying.

+

Rowan was nervous. In fact, she couldn’t stop pacing. The three of them had reached the park quickly; it was the only place that they could easily sneak into at three in the morning without many people growing suspicious. Ash and Rowan retreated into the small, old, dirty bathroom right off to clean their wounds. Ash had more than Rowan, with one through her eyebrow and multiple cuts along her arms; all Rowan had was a small one on her cheek from flying glass, bruises on her arms from Paul pulling her away, and her ribs were aching from running to the park.

And it didn’t help that she never had the opportunity to put any shoes on before they were attacked; her feet were cut and bleeding, bruised and swelling from all the rocks she must’ve hit in the grass (and walking around the filthy bathroom certainly didn’t help).

As she made her way back out to the shelter where Martin was sitting, she tried to force herself to think positively. Ash was still in the bathroom, finishing cleaning her wounds as best as she could, while Rowan joined Martin on the picnic table.

Martin sucked in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, before expelling and looking over at her. “I’m sorry I freaked out on you in the elevator,” he told her quietly.

Rowan appreciated that; she got the feeling that Martin wasn’t the type of guy to apologize often. “It’s understandable.”

“I don’t think we should’ve left him, though.”

“I don’t either,” she agreed. “But he made me promise.”

Martin ran his hands through his hair. “He can be such a stubborn prick sometimes,” he muttered.

Rowan felt herself smile because, yeah, that really didn’t surprise her. “I can tell.”

Martin was quiet for a couple more minutes before he let out a soft sigh. “You were crying in the elevator.”

“I don’t cry.”

“You were crying.”

Rowan sighed herself. “Yeah.”

“You shouldn’t get attached,” Martin told her.

“Trust me, I know I shouldn’t,” Rowan told him.

“Then why—“

“I owe him my life, Martin,” Rowan said, interrupting him before he could finish his question. “He could’ve easily sent me to his father; I could’ve easily died.”

Martin nodded slowly; but he wasn’t completely convinced. “Were you lying when you told him that shit about his father?”

“No,” Rowan said quickly; she didn’t have to think about her answer because none of it had been a lie. “I didn’t even know he was a DiGiovanni at that point. I have no reason to lie to him.”

“You just said yourself that he pretty much held your life in his hands,” he pointed out.

“I didn’t say it so he would let me live, and I’m definitely not tricking him, Martin,” Rowan replied. “I don’t. I don’t know, Martin. So if you want all the answers, I can’t give them to you.”

Martin shrugged; he really didn’t know what he was expecting anyway. “I just don’t want you two to get attached to one another for it to end badly, Rowan. You know it would never work.”

Rowan didn’t know why that upset her so much; she really wasn’t growing attached to him. Okay. She was. She was getting attached and she didn’t want to. But it wasn’t as if she could just tell herself to stop; her brain didn’t exactly work that way.

“Just…try to back off a little, okay?” Martin suggested.

And Rowan shouldn’t have gotten upset, but she did; she scoffed before she could stop herself. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Martin.”

Martin sighed. “Rowan—“

“You can say it’s stupid, you can say it’s a bad idea, but I can’t control these things, okay? It’s not like I’m pining after him or anything. It’s just Stockholm syndrome or some shit,” she muttered, waving her hand dismissively.

Martin’s eyebrows rose. “Stockholm syndrome? Really?” he asked, clearly unimpressed.

She shrugged. “It could happen.”

“Hey, y’all, what’s goin on?” Ash asked, approaching them and climbing over the table to sit between them.

“Nothing,” Rowan said quickly.

Ash’s eyebrows rose and she looked over at her boyfriend.

Martin shrugged.

“Freaks,” she mumbled with a smile.

“Where the fuck is Paul?” Rowan asked, standing up from the picnic table and pacing again.

“Stop walking, you’re going to cut your feet up even more,” Ash told her.

“I don’t care,” she said, continuing to pace. And she really didn’t care; she wasn’t going to have shoes until they got back to her house. She’d deal with the pain later but, right then, she needed a distraction until Paul showed up. She never would have thought that she would have gotten so nervous. But it had been well over an hour and he still hadn’t showed up. “Fuck.”

Martin jumped slightly when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. And when his ringtone blared out at full blast, he ripped the phone from his pocket to see who it was.

“Is it Paul?!”

Martin’s eyes widened as he stared at Rowan and he subconsciously hit ‘ignore.’ “No. It was my mother.”

“Momma Johnson!” Ash said with a smile. “How is she?”

Martin paused. “I didn’t answer. So I’m not sure.”

Ash frowned. “Well, answer next time. I miss her.”

“I’ll worry about my mother when Paul shows up,” Martin said softly.

Ash snaked her arm around her boyfriend’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his temple. “He’ll be okay, babe.”

“He better be.”

“Don’t worry; the bromance will continue,” Ash promised.

Martin smiled softly.

“Freaks,” Rowan muttered softly, causing Ash to start laughing. She didn’t really plan it, but hey, it did help relieve some of the tension in the air.

“Would Paul really want all of you sitting out here, worrying yourselves sick over him?” Ash asked.

Rowan shrugged. “I don’t really know him that well, so I can’t answer.”

“He would hate it,” Martin said.

“Correction—I would actually feel really honored that you all thought so highly of me.”

Rowan was the first to move, running to Paul and throwing her arms around his shoulders the minute he came into view.

Paul visibly flinched when Rowan squeezed him, but it didn’t stop him from hugging her back. He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her scent, and he felt content. “You okay?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” Rowan said, pulling away slowly and giving him the once-over. “Oh my God, Paul, you look like shit,” she muttered, running a hand over the cut on the side of his face.

Paul shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be cavalier,” Rowan told him. “Are you okay?”

He shrugged again. “I’ve been better,” he told her honestly, before walking over slowly to the picnic table and sitting down.

“How did you get out, bro?” Martin asked.

“Had to jump out of a window at one point,” Paul told him. “Can we talk about it later? I feel like I’m about to pass out.”

Rowan sat down next to him, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Never tell us to leave you alone there again,” she warned him.

Paul smiled softly. “I’d tell you fifty more times if it kept you safe, Ro.”

Rowan couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on her face.

Paul reached over and grabbed her hand. “Where are your shoes?” he asked.

“They—“

But Paul didn’t get to hear her answer; he had already passed out.