People think of anger as heat. That rage burns. But time alters fury - the flames turn to something jagged, something cold. Time makes anger burn like ice not fire. So slowly, I stand and I stare at him - a thousand words ready to spill from my lips but there's only silence.
It takes a moment for the emotions to settle. For the storm in me to calm into something under my control. In that time, the smile drops from his lips.
"Is that all you have to say? Hi?" He runs a hand across his face.
"What are you doing here? You don't need me to tell you it isn't safe." He glances back to the window, his eyes narrowing with worry. "How did you find me?"
I shrug, folding my arms across my chest. My hands are burning from where I scraped them, my ankle aches. The sun has barely risen and my body already feels spent.
"Photos. You always took them of the canal, I never really noticed. There's some on my wall, one in your flat... one in Davey Taggart's office..."
His eyes widen, his jaw drops and he rushes forward. He grips my arms and scans me.
"What the hell, Calla? You went to Taggart? Are you OK? What happened?"
I yank myself out of his grasp and he flinches a little. I move back, till I'm pressed against the wall. I see hurt in his eyes but I don't care. In fact, I'm glad.
"I didn't get a lot of say in it. It was Leon. He'd been following me, he took me to meet your dad..." Owen's eyes darken, his body tenses but I don't drop my gaze.
"That man isn't my dad." I laugh, and sink back on the settee, putting my head in hands.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"Because..."
"Because you're in denial? Got it."
Owen exhales and then drops to the ground. Kneeling on his haunches before me.
"My dad... not Davey... worked for him. He used to grow weed and anything else they could in these warehouses. I used to spend a lot of time here. He was a good dad, and I never understood why he left... but Mum let slip when she was high once. She cheated on him, he found out and he left. I was never his son. I'm not stupid, Calla. I think I always knew why Davey took an interest in me. You shouldn't have got caught up in all this, I didn't want that."
"Then why message me? You started this, you must have known what I'd do," I hiss.
He smiles again, and I turn away before some of the ice can melt. I don't want him to have any impact on me. To have any sway over my heart but he still does. And I hate it.
"I don't care what anyone thinks of me. I never have. Only you. And no, I didn't know you'd do all this, but I should have guessed."
He leans forward, his hands on either side of me on the settee. He lowers his head till we're nearly touching but I don't move away.
"Why didn't you just leave? Just run?"
"I went to Davey, after I knew the police were after me. He lost it, he threatened to find you. Hurt you. I couldn't leave. What if I was caught whilst I was running and something happened to you?"
"Why do you care what happens to me? You made it pretty clear you don't." I want to sound cold, indifferent, but the crack gives me away. Slowly, he looks up, meeting my eyes.
"Oh, beautiful, you're way too smart to ask me that."
The air is knocked from my lungs, and I have to bite my lip. Ground myself in the sharpness of my teeth against my flesh.
"I brought you some food."
If I had any doubt over how much Owen had been able to eat it's answered in how quickly he leaps away and moves to my bag left abandoned on the ground. He's rooting through it's contents in seconds. When he sees the paper bag and its familiar logo, he groans.
"You're a goddess."
He takes the burger out it's cardboard box and practically rams it into his mouth.
"I did not take all this time to find you just to watch you choke to death on a big mac. Take it easy." He's too busy chuckling and stuffing more the burger into his mouth.
"Thank you."
"It's probably cold but... I thought you might be hungry."
"And you brought three. You remembered." He's sounds like a kid on Christmas and I shake my head, trying to hide my smile.
I remember everything Owen, even your damn McDonald's addiction.
"We can't stay here much longer, if Leon tells Davey..."
"I don't think Leon's looking for you for Davey."
Owen frowns and walks back over.
"What do you mean? Davey was raging, I thought he was going to kill me."
"I think he regrets it. And that was before."
"Before what?"
"Before he knew who I was."
"I don't understand."
"My dad's always been obssesed with Davey, and now I know why."
Owen snorts.
"Because he's a criminal?"
"Because they were in love." Owen closes his eyes and groans, he sinks to the floor. "Davey thinks we're some kind of... I don't know... great romace fated in the stars. They couldn't find a way to be together, their love lives on in us.... And I thought you were dramatic."
He snorts and chuckles. He's quiet for a while as he eats and processes my words.
"It kind of makes sense. He's determined it was me, isn't he? Your dad? Is he trying to punish Taggart? Because he won't care. Not really."
"Taggart thinks he's just desperate to get him sent down so he can stop him leaving. Did you know about the whole selling the Heights, thing? That he has stakes in the companies that own it?"
Owen nods.
"Yeah. It's how I was able to stay in the flat even though I was alone and under age. He got them to ignore it. And I imagine it's why Leon is looking for me, even when he's not supposed to be."
"Why?"
Owen sighs, screws up the wrapper and throws it across the floor.
"Because he hurt you. Because when I saw you on the floor under him, I thought you were dead. And I can't unsee that. He doesn't care about anything. He doesn't feel anything. All he wants is power. And he'll never have that why Davey is around. He thought he'd have the keys to the kingdom one day but for the last six months I've done every single thing to make sure that doesn't happen. To get Davey to trust me instead of him. He's going to use this whole thing to destroy me."
I'm not sure what to say to that so I just sit, staring into his eyes, seeing aemotion. Of sadness, and loss. The deep rise and fall of his chest. He's too close. I haven't had him this close in six months and I can feel the warmth of him. It's not a memory or a dream. He's here. He's real. And I'm feeling so much I can't breath.
"Did Leon kill Damien? Did he set you up?"
Owen shakes his head.
"Possibly, but Damien came to see me that night and he was afraid. And it wasn't anything to do with Leon."
I frown.
"Afraid of what?"
"I'm not sure, he wouldn't say but he was afraid to go home. Terrified." Owen sighs. "Do you remember why Leon attacked you? It was because of the missing drugs. Damien stole them."
"I know that. What do you think I've been doing all this time? Just wandering the streets, looking for breadcrumbs?" Owen smirks but nods. "Damien stole the drugs after his dad cut him off financially. And you attacked him after Jon told you."
He smiles.
"You have been busy."
"Alice broke up with Damien, a few days before he died. Someone sent her video of him with another girl. She hasn't told anyone, Dad so convinced it's you she didn't see the point of sullying Damien's name any more than necessary."
"He worshiped your sister. He told me, over and over again. I know people are capable of anything. But I didn’t think he do that."
"He was using. She showed it to me. You think someone was blackmailing him?"
"I don't know. He gave me some cash, to replace what he'd stolen. He knew it was you Leon hurt but I don't know who told him and he wouldn't tell me. But he found out after our fight. He said he was leaving. He had more cash, he was heading to the airport."
"But he didn't tell you who he was afraid of?"
"No, but he's told me things in the past. About his dad. He's a monster, Calla. And that's coming from someone whose dad is actually a monster." He laughs bitterly.
"You think David killed Damien?"
"The money he stole? It was from a work credit card. And since he's died, David has been using it to push that deal through. Yes, I think he did it. I just can't prove it. Not yet anyway."
I swallow hard, seeing the determination on his face.
"No... no, no. I'm done. I don't even know why... I don't even know why I started this."
"Calla, I'm not asking anymore of you. I wouldn't. I want you to go home and forget all about this."
"Good. I've found you and that's all I was trying to do. I have these." I rummage through my bag and pull out the documents Davey gave me and practically shove them at him. "I think your dad felt guilty, he wanted you to have these. There's a time and date to meet him and he'll help you leave the country."
"Calla..." I start to pack.
"I'm going home. Go to Davey. Get on that plane. And leave. We were over, remember? You wanted us over." I stand up, ignoring the woozy feeling that comes over me. "And I'm going to go home and..."
Wait to die.
"That's a LVAD you're wearing, isn't it?"
I freeze.
"How do you know that?"
"I've read everything I can about your heart. It... it will keeping you alive till they find you replacement heart..." He's quiet as he speaks. Watching me with intense eyes.
"Congratulations, you know how Google works." He exhales, but says nothing.
"I thought they'd have found you a heart by now?"
I sigh in mock frustration, talking about this hurts but I don't want him to see that.
"I come off it everytime I get too sick, or get an infection. My blood type is rare, and people with matching hearts aren't dropping like flies every second... take your pick Owen. You should... you would know all this if you hadn't..." I don't say more, my voice cracks painfully and it's hard to speak.
"I had to, you know that, don't you? I knew you'd never accept it unless..."
"You were coward. That's all it was."
His body tenses but he doesn’t argue. Owen moves to follow me, but I twist and put my hand up.
"I can't let you leave alone. It's not safe."
"You don't have any say on what I do or don't do. That was your choice."
I walk to the door, my body shaking, when I try to grip the handle, I struggle not to quiver.
"Why haven't you asked me?" His voice is low, soft. I turn and he's back leaning against the window. "Why haven't you asked me if I did it?"
I pause.
"Because it was sloppy. Because if you'd killed Damien we wouldn't be having this conversation. Because there'd be no body, no trail."
His lip slowly curve into a smile, and then he chuckles.
"That's my girl."
I could melt at those words, let months of anger fade away but I don't. I can't.
"Not anymore. Goodbye, Owen."