Page 58 of Silas

After a while, my sobs subside. Silas brushes my cheeks with the rough pads of his thumbs. “You saved my life, Naomi,” he whispers. “He’d have killed me.”

“I…I didn’t mean to…to kill him,” I say, my voice shuddering and stuttering.

“I know.” He touches my chin, lifting my gaze to his. “You did the right thing.”

“He was a human being. He had a family, probably.” I can’t help but look at his body; there’s so much blood.

“No, he probably didn’t. The Cabal only recruits people who basically have nothing to lose and nowhere else to go. They provide somewhere to live, food, clothes, and a shitload of money. And in return, they get total loyalty. I didn’t know that guy in particular, but I can guarantee you he’s done a whole hell of a lot of really evil shit to a lot of people.” I feel a warm breath on my cheek, a soft sigh, and then I feel his lips touch my cheek, where tears still escape, one side and then the other: tender kisses from a warrior. “You took out a bad guy. You saved my life and your own. I’m proud of you, Naomi.”

That pulls me up, and I blink at him. “You…you’reproudof me? For killing someone?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I am. Kinda fucked up, maybe, but inmyworld, you did a good thing. You had my back. You had Taj’s back. That guy was a loose cannon. He was ready to disobey direct orders—meaning, The Cabal wants me alive, and he was gonna kill me.”

“Why do they want you alive?” I ask.

“They don’t. The big bosses just want to be the ones to put the bullet in my brain themselves.”

“Oh. I see.”

He huffs a laugh, teasing but not unkind, clearly understanding that I do not, in fact, see. “I betrayed them by leaving. In that world, you don’t leave. There’s no out. You’re in for life. I know their secrets. I know how they smuggle drugs, guns, and even human beings into the country. I know how they launder their money. They know I know, and they want me dead to make sure I keep my mouth shut. I have no intention of snitching, but they don’t know that and they don’t care. They just want me dead. Dead men tell no tales and all that.”

“I guess that makes sense, in a twisted, violent sort of way.”

I realize, slowly, that I’m on his lap, curled up against his chest, my legs tucked to one side. His arms are powerful, protective bands of solid, immovable steel around me. I inhale him—his warmth, his scent. I close my eyes and let sensations and emotions wash over me. I’m safe. I’ve never in my life felt this way—sheltered, understood, protected. It ignites something deep inside me. A pilot light, of sorts. I feel his breath on my skin. His hands are loosely cradling me, one at my shoulder and the other on my hip.

A yawning hole inside me gapes wide and infinitely deep—it’s a craving. A desperate, wild, uncontrollable need that absolutely terrifies me in its intensity. What is it I want? What is it I need? I have no frame of reference, no way to know, to understand this feeling. All I know is that I…I justneed.

Is it him? Silas? His touch? His comfort? The warmth of his embrace and the intoxicating beauty of being so safe in his arms? Is it more of him that I need?

Perhaps.

I don’t know, for sure. I do know, however, that here and now is not the place or time to explore it.

“We should go,” Silas murmurs. “That shot will have attracted attention we don’t need.”

I nod. “Okay.”

He sets me on my feet but doesn’t let go until he’s sure I’m steady. “You good?”

I sniffle, studiously avoiding looking at the body. “I’m okay.”

Silas bends and retrieves the baton, and then uses the dead man’s shirt to clean the blood off the knob; collapsing it with a downward smack of his palm, he hands it back to me. “Now you know what that thing can do.”

Taj exchanges the magazines of his pistol and tucks it behind his waistband at the small of his back. “So. I’m taking the Aston Martin and you guys are taking the Explorer?”

Silas grabs a pair of spare magazines from one of the bags and a stack of cash from the other, zips up the bags and closes the trunk. “Yep. That car is worth a small fortune, so take care of her.”

Taj laughs. “Oh, I will take the very best care of this beautiful car.”

Silas laughs. “Buddy, if I make it out of this situation with the Cabal, I’ll take you back to my parents’ place and you can pick a car from my dad’s collection. I took that one because it was always my favorite.”

“Your father was a car collector?”

He laughs, a bitter, sarcastic bark. “You could say that.” He gently thumps the hood of the classic car. “I was always jealous of his cars. He loved them more than he did me or my brothers.”

“That is rather fucked up, my friend,” Taj says with a frown.

“Yeah, well, my father was a piece of shit, so…” Silas shrugs. “He’s gone now, thank fuck.”