Page 149 of Unholy Obsession

I bet he does.

“Is there a message you wanted me to pass along to Caleb?” I ask.

“I told him not to visit when I first went away, and,” he sighs, dragging a hand through his thick hair, “that’s still probably for the fuckin’ best. But at my last parole hearing, there was some talk about letting me out early.” His eyes snap to mine. “But don’t tell Caleb that.”

I raise a brow. “But that’s good news. How soon?—?”

He shifts, his gaze sliding away, like even saying it out loud might jinx it. “Six months.”

“Six months? That’s great.”

He shrugs. “Won’t believe it’s real ’til I’m walking out those doors. Sunshine on my face.”

I nod. Understandable for a man who’s been on the inside so long. “Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?”

He shakes his head. “Caleb supplies me with a good stipend each month so I can get the things I need… and the things I need to trade.”

I get it. Prisons have their own internal economy, and Silas has no doubt learned it well after so many years inside.

“That all?” he asks roughly.

I relay Caleb’s message—his love and support. “Do you have any messages you want me to give Caleb? Or anyone else?”

“Don’t tell him about the possible parole,” he reminds me again. It sounds like a warning.

I hold up my hands. “My lips are sealed. I’m a priest, after all. If you can’t trust me, who the hell can you trust?”

He nods. “All right, priest. Yeah, there is someone I’d like you to reach out to for me. She changed her number, and I haven’t been able to get ahold of her.”

“A sweetheart?”

His eyes narrow. “No. My daughter.”

His daughter?

Caleb never mentioned a sister. Or stepsister, I suppose, if she’s Silas’s natural-born daughter.

“She kept in contact for a few years, but… then we had a falling out, you could say.”

“You want to talk about it?” I offer.

“No.” His eyes are like flint.

The entire man is hardened—cut muscle and sharp edges. A survivor.

“But now that I’m about to get out… potentially,” he adds quickly, “it might be time to try to reconnect.”

He gives me her name, and I take it down on my phone.

“Where did she live when you were last in contact?”

“Austin. But she was talking about moving out west.” His eyes go distant. “California. She always said she wanted to see a real ocean. One that was blue instead of brown like the Gulf. So maybe she made it out there, finally.”

His voice gets gruff again when he says, “Don’t mention this to Caleb, either. They used to be close, but… I don’t know now.”

He looks away again, settling back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. His muscles bulge, making clear againthat he’s one intimidating motherfucker. And that the subject is done.

“I’ll see what I can do about contacting her,” I say.

---