Page 38 of Dead By Dusk

Above all else, that has to be the goal, and not just for myself, but for Carmen as well. Regardless of my newfound doubts I have toward her, I made that promise. I intend to keep it.

It doesn’t help that my memories amplify my desire to get her out alive.

But how?

How do I get us out alive when there are three others here watching our every move?

Despite my original thoughts, I’m not so sure this situation is as black and white as I believed it to originally be. Lines seem to have blurred within the past twenty-four hours. The lines that were never supposed to have the chance to, seem to have slowly dissipated into the space around us, leaving nothing separatingmefromthem. Nothing holds me any less responsible than my counterparts for us being here.

I’m hoping that with the talk we’re soon to have, maybe the tides will turn in my favor. There’s a possibility someone will reveal something that will help me understand or piece together what’s been forgotten.

Or maybe we’ll be stuck in this tumultuous cycle of mistrust for a while longer.

The sound of footsteps descending the stairs halts my thoughts, as well as my pacing, and I turn toward the living area where Carmen is seated. She stares at the ground in quiet contemplation, as the sound of thunder slowly fades as the storm travels farther away. Not for even a second does she pull her attention away from what clouds her mind, even as the three men crowd around the couch of the living room.

I expect Ronan to be the first to look my way, or even my shadow who seems to follow everywhere I go, but instead it’s Adonis whose eyes land on me. His cool gaze is full of questions as he holds six folders low at his sides. Each varying in just how much information seems to be contained within, and the idea of answers hidden within the flimsy binds compels me forward.

“What do you have there, big guy?” I question, stepping forward and dipping my chin toward his hands. The three other sets of eyes narrow on me, and Carmen’s tight-lipped smile tells me I might not really like what they have to say.

“Answers,” Adonis grunts out. I reach for the folders, and he raises them up, far out of my reach. “Answers reserved forafterour talk,” he says with finality, holding no room for any questions or arguments.

“Have you seen what’s inside?”

He shrugs with indifference, but by the way Ronan and Nathaniel look away, I see the truth that they won’t speak. All three have seen the contents of the folders, yet they are denying us the same courtesy.

“Why don’t we get the same privilege you have so graciously bestowed upon yourselves? Why keep it away from us?” My tone is cold, accusatory, and I know they feel its bitter chill. Carmen looks away from everyone again once the words leave my mouth, and Ronan has the decency to look as if he doesn’t necessarily agree with their actions, but the other two men—Adonis and Nathaniel—seem convinced they are in the right.

“The three of us spent a couple days alone. We saved each other.Youran off the first chance you got…” Nathaniel tries to explain everything, tries to keep the peace, but my temper is rising, and I do not care for such pleasantries at the moment. Not when I’ve done just as much for them as they have done for us.

“I don’t think that’s a good enough reason for us to be kept in the dark,” I spit out, my voice deceptively low, despite how I wish to scream and fight. How dare they deny me the right to know as much about myself as they now know of me?

“We don’t trust you.” If Nathaniel was attempting to be the keeper of peace, Adonis was the chaos that disrupts it. He doesn’t care about pleasantries, and while it’s something I think I would normally be fine with, at the moment it only causes the inferno inside me to burn hotter and hotter, ready to burst and destroy everything around me. This almost feels like an odd change given how silent he has been for the majority of the time spent around him thus far, but if he’s ready to speak and it’s words of trust, then he better be ready for me to talk back.

“You think I trust any of you!? You think Iwantto after you held a blade to her neck the first chanceyougot?” I question while jabbing my finger into his hard chest. Carmen inhales sharply, surely thinking I have a death wish, but I don’t care. Who is he to talk about trust when his first action was one against the two of us?

Nathaniel slowly steps between the two of us and cautiously removes my finger from Adonis’ chest, but even without the contact, our gazes remain locked on one another, daring the other to look away first.

But neither of us do.

“We haven’t tried to kill you, but you’ve tried to kill every single one of us, or at least showed that you have no qualms about doing so,” Nathaniel says warily, as if he’s walking directlyinto a fight between two predators. I take one step back, but keep my gaze narrowed until Adonis chooses to look away.

“If I wanted to kill any of you,” I start, voice low and indifferent, while leveling a murderous glare at every man in the room, “I would have done so already.”

Minutes pass by as the residue of the argument lingers in the air. Silence that no one wants to fill stretches around us. Not a single person wants to counter the statement I had just made—the truth that I had spoken—because Ihavehad every opportunity to kill them if I wanted to. When they had trusted me enough to keep watch while they slept by the fire, I could have easily slit each and every one of their throats while they slept and left their bodies to rot.

But I didn’t. Instead, I kept them alive. I told them about the electrical fence, I helped them get back into the house, I got us into the room, and still they actively question my motives.

They questionme.

“Well, you were the one that wanted to ask everyone what they remember. So go ahead and share first. Make us believe you.”

I look to Nathaniel as the words leave his lips and slowly study him. His tone suggests he is still rightly cautious of me after my little display, but his body language says otherwise. His cheeks are slightly flushed, but he appears to be steady with his arms resting at his sides, and his fists are clenched together.

He tracks my gaze and relaxes his hands, shaking each one out. I turn my curious eyes to Ronan, who hasn’t interjected at any point, though I wonder if it’s because he knows I wouldn’t want him to fight my battles for me. When our eyes lock on one another, I find that he was already staring at me.

In his typical fashion, it’s not in a way that diminishes my presence, but one that is always searching. He looks at me as if there’s always something new to learn, and he’s eager to findout what it is—even if it’s something as crazy as violent and murderous tendencies.

“Help them believe, Silene. You don’t have to convince me. I’ll tell you everything you want to know no matter what. But help them see.”

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