Page 16 of Ugly Truths (The Veiled Truths Trilogy #2)

Elena

I t’s been a week since waking up in that first holding room, and I have no illusions about leaving unless it’s in a body bag. I’ve accepted that.

In those first few days, I told Davey and Cillian everything I could remember—every detail, every past job that might help them find Peter, even though he’s notoriously impossible to track down. When I finally reached the end of my story, I was a shell of myself and had nothing left to offer.

So, why am I still alive?

The uncertainty is starting to make me feel a little insane.

Natalie is the only person who visits me consistently. She’s come every day, usually with food from a restaurant we tried together last spring, and we have a meal on the mattress. It's a quiet reminder of the friendship I destroyed.

She also brings things to read. Usually, she stays for a few hours, just talking.

It’s surprisingly easy to fall back into conversation.

We discuss the plots of the books she brings, the fundraisers she’s been working on, the Pilates class she still attends.

She still has plenty of questions about me and my life.

I tell her everything because what’s the point in keeping secrets anymore?

Throughout our conversations, it’s hard not to notice that she speaks with more confidence now.

There’s a steadiness to her that wasn’t always there before.

It makes sense; she has the power here, but I don’t mind.

I never thought I’d have the chance to speak to Natalie again, and I like that she doesn’t hold back anymore.

Someone always accompanies her. More often than not, it’s Davey, sitting off to the side in an uncomfortable folding chair, tapping away at his laptop.

Sometimes he listens, cutting in with a sharp question about something I’ve confessed.

Cillian does the same when it’s his turn.

And then there’s Cora, who just sits in the corner, silent and unreadable.

I haven’t even seen any of the other men I saw slinking through Silas’s home when I lived there.

It has me wondering how many people actually know I’m here. Wherever here is.

Silas hasn’t been back, but that doesn’t surprise me.

I was fighting a losing battle the moment I looked him in the eye and told him that leaving Chicago was the hardest decision I’ve ever made.

There’s too much anger and distrust for him to take anything I say at face value.

Still, I wanted him to because he’s stubborn enough to convince himself that everything between us was a lie, and he was a fool for ever feeling anything at all.

Maybe it’s egotistical to think I meant enough to leave a scar like that, but he’s the kind of man who would let anger do that to him. He’d let it build a wall so thick that he’d mistake it for strength.

The door locks turn. I glance up from my spot on the mattress, a romance novel propped against my bent knees. Within seconds, Natalie pops her head around the corner, two paper bags in hand, wearing a small smile.

I scoot closer to an edge, making room for her, and she falls into the routine we’ve settled into since this started.

One bag—filled with magazines and books—goes next to the growing stack on the concrete.

The other, she unceremoniously plops onto her lap after lowering herself to the mattress, ripping open the staples at the top to pull out whatever food she’s brought today.

I smell it before I see it. Rich, spiced, and steaming through the clear plastic lids. Indian.

In the background, Davey enters, but this time, Cillian follows behind, silently carrying a folding chair to the corner and a laptop tucked under one arm. Davey has a cardboard box in his grip.

Without a word, Davey walks toward me and sets the box directly next to my leg before standing straight. Eyebrows furrowed, I peek over the edge and see a laptop and a phone. My heartbeat picks up.

“What’s this?”

Davey crosses his arms. “There are going to be stipulations on Luis’s release.”

I swallow. Of course, there are.

“Okay,” I answer, bowing my head in a small nod. “What are they?”

He juts his chin toward the box. “You and Luis are going to help decrypt the files on our servers.”

I knew this might be coming. Days ago, I was prepared to offer it myself when I thought my original proposition wouldn’t hold. It doesn’t stop the shame from curling low in my stomach.

Davey runs a hand through his auburn hair, letting out a tired breath.

“Most of the encryptions aren’t my work, and they’re too complex for me to handle alone,” he admits, his gaze meeting mine.

“I’ve already started the process of finding contractors because my team is busy elsewhere, and it’ll draw attention. ”

That small admission tells me more than I’ve heard in days. I already knew they hadn’t decrypted the servers yet. Davey said as much when he first visited me, but now I know why. William has no idea that Davey and Silas are doing this.

Does he even know I’m here at all? Does he know what I did?

The questions swirl in my head, but there are more pressing matters to attend to. I don’t want Luis here a second longer than he has to be, and we struggled enough on our own with their cloud files the last time. But we also know people who didn’t.

I take a breath. “I might know two people who can help,” I say.

Davey raises an eyebrow. “Who? ”

For some reason, this feels like a death sentence, but Corey and Ben are Luis’s friends. They’d help him just to ensure he gets out of here safely.

“The two men who helped us with your cloud,” I admit, grateful I didn’t omit that detail to Davey when he asked about the vulnerabilities I exploited. “They’re skilled cryptographers. If I can explain the situation to them, they might help.”

Davey tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “You think they’ll say yes?”

I shrug. “I think if they know it’ll get Luis out of here, they will.” I press my lips together for a brief second before exhaling slowly. “If you guys still have the phone that was in my bag when Cillian grabbed me, their numbers are in there.”

Davey studies me for a moment longer, then nods. “Cill?” he calls out without turning.

“It’s in the office at Silas’s,” Cillian answers instantly, his eyes still trained on his laptop screen.

Natalie has already peeled the lids off the food she brought, the smell filling the room. My stomach growls, and Davey takes that as his cue to leave, kissing his wife goodbye and telling me he’ll be back in a few hours with the phone.

Before he reaches the door, the one question I’ve wanted to ask for days finally slips out. “Does this mean I can see Luis?”

Davey stops mid-stride, glancing over his shoulder at me. Even Natalie pauses, looking between us.

He mulls over my question for a moment before admitting, “I don’t feel comfortable being the one to make that decision.”

The appetite I thought I had is consumed by a cold weight settling in my stomach and my eyes drop to the mattress.

Because it’s not his decision to make. It’s Silas’s.

“He’s being treated the same as you,” Natalie says quietly beside me. “I’ve been over to check on him. He’s okay. ”

Gatitude surges in my chest. There’s relief in knowing that if nothing else, she’ll be the moral compass that ensures Luis gets back to Colorado.

I manage a nod and a smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

Davey excuses himself, leaving the room. As soon as the door clicks shut, Natalie hands me a container of tikka masala. The rich spices curl around me like a memory.

After murmuring another thanks, I pick up my fork and force myself to take a bite. It’s hard to enjoy it when my stomach is still in knots.

I hesitate for a moment before setting my fork down. “How’s Silas?” The words are so quiet that they're almost nonexistent.

Natalie sighs. “I wish I knew,” she admits, poking at her food. “I haven’t seen much of him since June. He’s been avoiding me.”

Guilt settles in. I know I’m the reason he avoids her; every conversation circles back to me.

The quiet lingers between us before, softly, Natalie asks, “Did you have real feelings for him?” She looks at me then, eyes searching.

I could lie to make this easier, but it would be unfair to what I want Silas to know.

“I couldn’t fake what I felt for him.” My voice trembles just slightly at the admission. “I tried to keep my distance, especially when I realized how much I liked having you as a friend. Deep down, I think I knew that if I let myself do it, there’d truly be no going back.”

The lump in my throat bobs as I swallow down the pain. “He wasn’t supposed to keep showing up like that. I figured I was just a passing infatuation, but he kept trying. Then, after the alley, I gave in because I wanted to, even though I knew it’d hurt like hell at the end.”

Natalie nods, absorbing my words without argument. She doesn’t offer me sympathy. Doesn’t offer me anything, really. And I knew she wouldn’t.

I clear my throat, shifting the conversation. “Were you aware of how extensive Silas and Davey’s extracurricular activities are?”

She snorts but still takes my question to heart, nodding her head side to side. “I always knew there was more happening, but I didn’t ask questions,” she says finally. “I didn’t really want to know, but had to learn after you asked for me.”

Shame claws at me again. I drop my gaze. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Natalie surprises me by patting my arm. “I’m actually relieved.” She smiles. “At least now I understand. This all makes more sense to me, and that made it worth it.”

The unexpected kindness tugs at something deep in my ribs, but I push past it, taking another bite of food.

For a while, we eat in silence before Natalie speaks again. “Tell me about Luis.”

I glance up at her, chewing slowly. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you meet?”

I tell her the basics—us working together, helping each other out when we could on other jobs, and becoming friends over time. She scans my face for any indication of the unasked question I know she wants an answer to.

“We’ve never been more than friends,” I clarify, anyway. “Though there was one time in Colorado I thought maybe he’d try to cross that line,” I pause, pushing my food around the take-out container with my fork, “but I ran from it.”

“Why?”

“Because it felt wrong. And I was still mourning my life here.”

Natalie studies me as she takes a bite of her lunch, weighing my words. “Do you think you’ll ever want that with him?”

“No.”

The answer comes out fast, instinctual. Even if I were allowed to leave here, a new relationship is the furthest thing from my mind.

Natalie nods, and I’m grateful she doesn’t push to understand why. There’s no point in dissecting the what-ifs or the maybes. Those are long gone, and that’s okay .

Maybe that’s the beauty in all of this. The worrying is over. For the first time ever, I know how this ends, and it’s almost comforting that there’s nothing left to run from. Only acceptance and whatever comes after.