Page 15 of Ugly Truths (The Veiled Truths Trilogy #2)

Davey

W hatever restraint Silas was clinging to snapped long before he actually stormed out the holding room. This bomb has been waiting to detonate. I just don’t know if this is the peak or the lead-up to something worse.

Unsurprisingly, Silas has always been the one to hold his cards close to his chest. When I was getting to know him at work, I couldn’t tell if he hated or respected the people around us, or even me.

He takes his time assessing everyone around him.

It’s what makes him great at his job, but impossible to read.

The closest I’ve seen him to losing control of his emotions have all involved Natalie.

The first time I saw what Silas was capable of was about a year into my relationship with her.

An older man had been stalking her. He’d show up near her apartment and follow her after events.

He even left semen-covered underwear at her door once.

The police were dragging their feet, which floored me given who she is, and Natalie didn’t want to “bother” Silas with it.

But I was fed up, so I told him, hoping at the very least he had some connections at her local precinct to actually do something about it.

I’ll never forget the way he stilled. The energy emanating from him was a complete juxtaposition to his quiet response. The silent rage matched what I felt in my own chest, beat for beat. We didn’t have to ask each other any questions. There wasn’t a single doubt about what needed to happen.

That’s when I learned about the extent of his team and how he handles threats to his family.

Since then, I’ve been part of that process.

We’ve dealt with more incidents than I care to count.

Some still keep me up at night. It’s something I’ve done with a mix of emotions.

Mostly pride, because it’s always been about keeping Natalie safe.

However, the person I’ve just gotten out of my seat to follow now isn’t that same man. He’s been unraveling piece by piece since June, and now there’s nowhere left for him to tuck those emotions away into.

Cillian is leaning against the wall directly next to me when I open the door, his eyes tracking Silas further down the hallway. “What’s going—”

With barely a glance at Cillian, I nod toward the holding room. Without hesitation, he listens, slipping through the door and shutting it behind himself, leaving me and my best friend alone. I jog to catch up with him before he reaches the elevator panel.

“Silas.”

He ignores me. So I grab his arm and pull. Hard.

As he whirls around, there’s more than just hatred swimming in his eyes. His chest heaves.

“Breathe,” I say, my grip tightening slightly. “You hear me? Breathe through it.”

His glare sharpens in an instant. “Don’t tell me to fucking breathe , Davey.”

I don’t flinch. “Losing your shit right now doesn’t help anyone. Least of all you.”

The words hit their mark. He yanks his arm out of my grasp and starts pacing. His shoes echo against the floor, each step heavier than the last.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” His voice is raw. “Pretend I didn’t just sit in that room and hear her justify ripping my goddamn heart out?”

I exhale, crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t think she was justifying it,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “She was explaining why she did it.”

Silas stares at me like I’ve just sprouted an additional head. His lips part slightly before the frustration ignites.

“You spent months telling me not to trust her,” he seethes. “Now you’re trying to see her side of things?”

The irony isn’t lost on me. I knew Elena was going to be a problem from the first time she and Silas shook hands.

It took him a few weeks, but once his obsession took hold, it was fast and intense.

So much so that it surprised me. I’d barely seen Silas show interest in a woman for more than a handful of dates, let alone chase one who wanted nothing to do with him.

And yet, she was always conveniently around.

It set off every warning bell in my head.

For months, it put me on edge every time she was in the room.

I watched her closer than anyone else, thinking it was about power or money, but now I know it wasn’t.

At least, not for her personally. It was about survival.

That doesn’t erase what she did or excuse the wreckage she left behind, but it makes me more willing to listen.

“I’m not in the business of torturing or killing anyone so trapped that making enemies of us felt like their best option.

” I pause, letting my words settle. “I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve consequences, but I’m not making any rash decisions, and neither should you. Give me more time to sort this out.”

I expect him to bite back with something vicious, but he only exhales, slow and harsh, tension still rippling under his skin. Then, he turns and moves toward the elevator at the end of the hall, his fingers already reaching for the panel. Over his shoulder, he snipes, “Keep asking her questions.”

“Where are you going?” I demand.

He doesn’t look back. “Anywhere but this fucking dungeon.”

Pressing his thumb against the biometric scanner, he waits for the soft beep to confirm the match before the screen prompts him for his code.

He enters it without hesitation, and the doors slide open with a muted hiss.

He steps inside before pressing the button for his office floor.

Another biometric scan. Another beep. Then the doors close, and he’s gone.

That went about as well as expected.

Turning on my heel, I heed his instructions and head back to the holding room door, pausing for only a moment to let out a long, deep breath before opening it.

Cillian is leaning against the wall directly to the left of the threshold, arms crossed, listening. He barely acknowledges me, eyes focused on Elena and Natalie as he teases out something in his mind that I clearly missed.

My body tenses as I take in my wife’s expression.

She’s more upset now than when I left. Her eyes are glossy with fresh tears. Their tracks stain her high cheekbones and gather beneath her chin. The physical ache that envelops me seeing her like this is so violent and fast that it steals my breath, but I shove the fear aside.

Silas is already acting irrationally enough for both of us.

Natalie clears her throat and looks back at Elena, nodding toward me. “Tell Davey what you just told me,” she says. Her voice is stronger than I expected. “About Drew.”

The girl who was murdered.

Elena shifts, adjusting her posture against the wall, her expression unreadable.

Then, finally, she speaks, “Drew was my best friend. I met her in my freshman year of college. She was the type of person who would drop everything to help someone.” She pauses, staring at the floor like she’s stuck in some memory.

“She even moved into my shitty studio apartment just so I could afford rent and stay in school. She didn’t have to. She just… did.”

She exhales before forcing out the next words. “I know you’ve seen the news articles, and you’re smart enough to know she wasn’t killed in an attempted robbery. Peter killed her.”

The muscles in my jaw tighten.

“She found out about the work I was doing and confronted me. Said she had to report me because it was the right thing to do.” Her voice wavers slightly. “I tried to talk to her out of it, but she made up her mind.”

Elena chews the inside of her cheek so hard that it creates a visible indent.

“I panicked and told Peter. I thought maybe they’d bribe her to stay quiet.

” Her bottom lip quivers. “They killed her as punishment for my carelessness. And Peter made sure I knew that I’d be next if I ever stepped out of line again. ”

Every emotion that passes across her face is raw and fast.

“I tried to leave after that," she confesses. “But he wouldn’t let me, and I was too much of a coward to fight back. Instead of doing the right thing and turning myself in, I let Peter blackmail me.”

Though she attempts to swallow it, a gut-wrenching sob breaks free from her throat. Elena covers her face with her hands, curling into herself on the thin mattress.

Natalie doesn’t even think twice. She moves from her chair to sit beside Elena, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tucking Elena’s head under her chin.

I want to protest and remind her that this woman is still a liar and a threat, but when my wife looks up at me, I know there’s no fighting her on this.

She believes Elena, and though I don’t want to admit it, I understand why she does.

There have been times in Natalie’s life when she’s felt like she didn’t have a choice. When she’s had to deal with the hand she was given, no matter how unfair it was. It’s why she’s always been so soft toward people and given them more grace than they deserve.

I don’t know if I believe Elena yet, but there’s no denying whatever Natalie wants. And right now, she wants me to figure out who the hell Peter Lynch is .

Cillian, reading the room, murmurs, “I’m on it,” before opening the door and closing it behind himself without another word.

I stand there, watching my beautiful wife comfort the woman who, just months ago, set fire to multiple warehouses and tried to break into our company servers.

Every instinct in my body is screaming to turn away from this.

Against all better judgment, I step forward, lower myself into Natalie’s abandoned chair, and wait as Elena’s sobs quiet and her shoulders stop shaking beneath Natalie’s embrace. Finally, she composes herself enough to lift her head and meet my eyes.

I motion to the camera in the corner of the ceiling. “You need to tell me every detail. Clearly. So the recording can hear it, and we can get to work.”

Elena doesn’t hesitate; she nods once, wipes at her face, and begins.