Page 36 of Perilous Healing

“Fine. Do you want to come in?”

“Sure.”

The kettle I’d been prepping in the kitchen beeps, signaling the water is ready, so I leave him to shut the door and head into the kitchen. “Do you want some tea?”

“No.”

“Okay.” I pour water into the mug with my bag of tea. “Where’s Eloise?”

“Staying with Michael and Reyna. I figured it was safer to have her away from here until we figure out what’s going on. I might end up taking her to Texas. So she can spend some time with my cousins.”

I swallow hard, hating the idea of them leaving. “Makes sense.”

“I’m sticking around, though,” he says. “Staying here so I’m close if something happens.”

“You should leave, too, Silas. You’re all she has.” I turn to face him, surprised to find him closer than I thought he’d be, with only a foot between us. I suck in a breath, the intensity in his green gaze captivating my thoughts.

“You could have died,” he says softly.

“He nearly got Eliza because she was walking beside me.”

“You could have pushed her to the side, taking you both out of the path of the bullet, but instead you threw your body over hers.”

He’s not mad, or at least that’s not the impression I’m getting. But is it too much to hope for worry? That he really does care for me and my life?

“She has a baby. I didn’t think about my life. Only hers.”

“Like when we were in the jungle?” he asks.

I stiffen. “What?”

“You charged out of that brush without a single thought for your own safety.”

The memory is branded in my mind. The terror as I heard them slam Silas to the ground, telling him to speak his last words.

I had fully processed what would happen if I intervened. And I’d done it anyway. “They would have killed you.”

His gaze drops to my lips, then locks on mine again. “And you were going to stop them.”

“I wasn’t planning to save you,” I admit. “I knew we were both going to die, but I didn’t want to lose you and survive.”

Silas stiffens, his muscles going rigid. I worry that I’ve said too much. That he’s going to turn away from me for good, now that he knows my act of heroics was actually one of cowardice. The fact is, I couldn’t face life knowing Silas Williamson was no longer breathing.

He’d come to mean so much to me in that month we were running for our lives. We’d laughed together despite our fear, clung to happiness even though we knew the likelihood of us walking away was basically nonexistent.

“I should have told you who I was,” I say. “Should have mentioned it the moment you came to me. But to be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure you were real. I was dehydrated and exhausted.”

“You should have told me,” he says. “But I should have at least tried to understand why you felt like you couldn’t.”

“I did trust you, Silas. It was never about that.”

“Then what was it? Because for years, I’ve tried to rationalize why you didn’t ever tell me. Did you think I would leave you to die? Turn you over in exchange for my own freedom?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then what, Bianca? Because even though we didn’t know each other long, I thought we’d gotten close. Even if the affection we felt for each other was manufactured by the fact that we could have died at any moment, I thought we’d at least end up friends.”

“We were more than friends,” I insist. “I just?—”

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