Page 70 of Shades of Silver City

Do you think I would keep it from you if she was? Scathe says. He yawns. Don’t project your own trauma onto others, Archer.

I swear the hound narrows his judgmental little eyes. Glaring at Scathe, I don’t bother to respond. He trots out of the room, likely to give us some privacy.

On his way out, he shoots one last message to me: She’s right—you can be an asshole.

“We’ll talk about your attitude later!” I call after him.

Frowning, Tasia looks from the doorway to me but doesn’t say anything else.

“I found the drug with your belongings,” I tell her. "Of course I think you’re using.”

“Well, jackass, I’ve never touched that shit in my life.” Setting her jaw, she crosses her arms.

I don’t know if I’m more relieved by her admission or by the fact that her fiery attitude has returned.

My shoulders relax a fraction. I open my mouth to reply, but she cuts me off.

“I found that at the bar. It belonged to the two men you rescued me from.” She puts air quotes around rescued. “I honestly forgot it was there. Meant to give it to you.”

She shrugs and fiddles with her septum piercing.

Maybe in her mind, it isn’t a big deal, but for me, it opens floodgates of memories I’ve tried long and hard to keep buried.

She briefly spares me a glance, then turns back to the window, chewing her bottom lip. “If the Scouts found me with that…”

“They didn’t.”

I know what she’s implying, though. Dreamdust is infused with magic. Lab-made or not, it’s highly illegal. She could’ve been arrested for petty possession.

Stepping up beside her, I gently tug the curtain from her hand, letting it settle back into place over the window. I reach beside the bed and turn on the lamp.

She squints as the bright glow illuminates the room. Her blue eyes are rimmed in red, and she blinks back tears.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her, concerned.

“I forgot I had that on me, swear.” She glances down. “They could’ve killed me…”

A few moments ago, I was downright furious with her, thinking she was hiding an addiction—using in my house. I was filled with rage, sorrow, and a fear of my own, at the thought of finding her like Sofia.

I couldn’t tear my eyes from her for more than a second while she slept, desperately hoping the scent of death didn’t come.

But I had it all wrong, and now, I find myself concerned for a whole new reason.

I’m the one betraying her, by accusing her unfairly and causing her stress when I promised she’d be safe here.

The urge to protect her, to fix her pain blossoms in me fiercely and suddenly.

“Hey,” I say softly. “You are safe here. With me.”

I reach for her, then let my hand drop, unsure if she’ll welcome my comfort. She’s terrified of the Scouts, and that fear apparently runs deeper than I first assumed.

Tasia sniffles a few times, blinking away the tears before they can fall. Then she clears her throat, squaring her shoulders. I can recognize a mask sliding into place when I see it.

Her strength, her fierceness, she uses them to conceal something that’s been shattered deep within her soul.

“They killed my parents,” she says detachedly. “In front of me.” Her eyes leave my face, finding something behind me to settle on. “It’s not something I’d like to rehash.”

“Fuck,” I whisper, the guilt once again finding its way into my bones.

---