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“Fuck me.” Grayson sighs, pushing off his desk to wrap Silla in his arms. I feel a stab of jealousy for a moment, but force myself to pay attention. Silla stiffens for a bit as she cries before sagging in his arms. “No one is upset. Everyone in this room loves you.”

“It’s true, I do,” Ayden says, holding the glass awkwardly, but wraps himself around her back.

“I love you so much, Baby,” I tell her, taking the glass to set it aside before joining the group hug.

“You don’t owe us shit,” Sidney rumbles, his eyes glittering with emotion. “We have lived every day for this moment. I love you so much, Silla. I’m so glad you’re alive.”

Stepping up next to me, his arms go around both Silla and I, making her squeak.

Isaac stands there for a moment, simply staring at us all. He has worked so hard to keep us all functional. There are no secrets, if there’s an issue, we talk through it. We are a united front.

Slowly he joins us, walking into the space left as if it was always meant for him. Laying his head on Grayson’s shoulder, his gaze meets her eyes. “You’re our everything. However you were able to survive, thank you. I love you so much, Little Hacker.”

Silla loses it, keening as we hold her. The difference in this is that she’s had no one. Cruelty has been the sole source of touch, based on the screams we heard, until even that was taken from us.

“Breathe,” Grayson demands, so we all take a breath together. It helps quiet the raging emotions in Silla’s mind, as she focuses on our breathing. Every time we breathe, she does as well, her eyes closing slowly. “Drink some water for me, the bitch may not stay in the damn car for long, yeah?”

Nodding, Silla straightens. Her face is streaked with her mascara, and it’s honestly more makeup than I’ve ever seen her wear. I fucking hate it. She’s so beautiful, but the clothes, the makeup, and the hair are as if she’s trying to be someone else.

Cinder dresses like this.

Grayson hands out tissues, and we all take some. At some point, all of us broke down, giving into our tears and emotion. Collapsing into a chair, Silla blows her nose.

“I’m a mess.” She sighs, shaking her head.

“I have makeup remover and I’ll fix it,” I tell her, sitting next to her. The guys all grab chairs so they can sit in a circle around us. We’re all eager to hear why she’s here, but trying not to crowd her. Her claustrophobia is something we don’t want to trigger.

Six people is a lot for Grayson’s office.

“And don’t touch your face with the gloves,” I chastise, tapping her hand. “The smudges on the fabric will be harder to handle than those on your skin.”

Nodding, she drops her hands into her lap, looking around at us.

“It’s so good to see you all,” Silla rasps. “So, here are some of the highlights, because my time is short. Lana is in the car outside, making sure I complete the task Cinder demands of me. I knew I would be seeing Gray, but seeing all of you… it’s more than I ever could have dreamed.”

No one talks, letting her tell her own story. We are starved for Silla Tremaine. The woman could read a grocery list, and we would be captivated.

“You may have noticed my voice is a little fucked,” she begins, her fingers fretting the material of the gloves. “I did a lot of screaming in the dungeon, and I messed up my vocal box. It can’t be corrected, either. I also want to say that I had no idea that you could hear me… Cinder was piping my screams into your torture chamber. Otherwise, I would have been way too far for you to ever hear me. She also wanted you to think I was dead. My step-sister is unhinged, sadistic, and has no moral code.”

Isaac growls under his breath, and Silla’s eyes move toward him. Shaking his head, he waves at her to continue. He’s straddling the chair he’s sitting in, his hands holding the back as if to keep him seated. We all just want to touch her, remind ourselves that it’s not an illusion.

“I carry a lot of guilt,” Silla says in a hushed tone, but we all hear her voice break from the strain. Shaking her head as if she’s yelling at herself, she clears her throat. “Cinder has been keeping me in the castle for the last four months, training me to do her bidding. I can’t… no, I won’t tell you what that was like, because it’s not pertinent to why I’m here.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there for a moment,” my brother mutters. “Your words, all of them, are ‘pertinent’. I don’t care if you ramble, tell us the same Godsdamn story a million times, every single one of those words is worth its weight in gold to me.”

“Yes,” I agree. “We want to hear them, when you’re ready. But you don’t owe them to us.”

Leaning back into the chair, she inclines her head to show that she hears us. Her hands fist in her skirts, and I want to rip the dress off of her. Navy blue is Cinder’s color, and she doesn’t get to turn Silla into a life-like doll so she can dress her up.

Grooming thoughts roam through my mind, and I force them away. I don’t know shit about shit until I hear them from my girl’s lips.

“I truly expected you to hate me, not send me all of this love and support, and remember my birthday,” Silla says sadly. “Cinder is currently facing a threat from the Underground, and requires your help. You can say no, but it’ll mean there’s no reason for her to keep me alive.”

Oh motherfucker. I already want to tell her I’ll do anything and everything she needs. I’m sure that’s what Queen Cinder is banking on.

ISAAC

I can’t stop staring at her. Silla is beautiful every day of the week, and even freaking out with mascara on her cheek, she is a vision. The clothes aren’t her, they look stiff and uncomfortable. And yet… my eyes are trained on her every move.