Page 50 of Silas

“Assuming you come back to Vegas with me, yeah.”

“I…I’d like to,” I say. “I don’t know where else I’d go.”

“Then you come to Vegas.” He moves us to the conveyor belt and tosses items onto it while the clerk scans them. “First, we’re heading into Ohio to meet up with one of my guys.”

The clerk scans and bags the items, and then reads off the total—well over a thousand dollars. My blood goes cold.

“Silas, it’s too much,” I whisper. “Athousanddollars?”

He just laughs as he counts out hundred-dollar bills. “Honey, I told you—I’m flush. Don’t worry about it.” He eyes me. “What’s the phrase, Naomi? Lemme hear it.”

“I’m worth it?”

He grins. “That’s the one. Repeat it till you believe it.”

The cart is overflowing with crinkly white bags. He pushes the cart away from the register and stops near the far wall, digging through the bags until he finds the items he’s looking for: a pair of underwear, the denim skirt, the white bra, and the V-neck T-shirt.

He yanks the tags free and hands them to me, gesturing at the nearby restrooms. “You wanna go change? Just toss the old stuff in the trash. That shit ain’t you anymore.”

I take my new clothes into the bathroom and put them on. When I emerge from the stall, I feel like an alien in my skin.

The skirt brushes the tops of my knees, leaving my legs bare from the knee down. The underwear clings to my curves where the old ones sagged. The bra is comfortable and supportive. The shirt hugs my frame and the V dips down to reveal a worrisome amount of cleavage.

I don’t look like me. I look like…

I look like a different woman. I’m standing straighter. My shoulders are back. My head is high.

For the first time in my life, I almost feel…

Attractive. Like a woman, not just…a female-shaped hole in the universe.

I step out of the bathroom and hesitate in front of Silas—I want his approval, I realize. I want him to like what he sees.

His eyes light up as he looks me over, head to toe. He’s not justseeingme, though—he’s appreciating.

I could fly.

“Jesus, Naomi.” His voice is low and thick with emotion. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, honey.”

“Thank you, Silas.” I give in to the urge seizing my muscles, my emotions, my brain: I lean into him, bury my face in his chest. Wrap my arms around his waist and hold on as tightly as I can. “Thank you. Thank you.” My nose stings and my eyes burn, and this time, I can’t hold it back.

I don’t even try.

He seems to get it. He doesn’t shush me. He just holds me.

It passes quickly. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry all the time.”

“Don’t apologize. Feel what you feel.” He wipes at my cheek with a thumb. “You’re allowed to express yourself.”

“I never have been, though.”

He brushes more tears away. “I know. But you are now. It’ll take time.”

“I just…You can’t understand how amazing it feels to have clothes that fit, that are mine, that I feel good in. I’ve never had that before. I’ve always worn old hand-me-downs or made my own.” I put my hand on his cheek, feeling the soft prickle of his copper stubble, soaking up the green warmth of his eyes. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for…well, everything.”

He shakes his head. “This is just to get you started. Once things are settled, I’ll buy you anything your heart desires. Brand name. Luxury. The best of everything. That’s a promise.”

“Well, well, well.” A nasty, nasally, unwelcome voice grates from our left. Zeke. My older brother. “Look at the ungrateful little whore, already gussied up like a slut and spreading her legs for the first man she comes across.”