Page 154 of Runaways

I'm a bad person. I wonder if I was born this way—if it was always me, like Tate said, or if it was them. Maybe it was a disease, and I got infected somewhere else along the way, and now, it's burrowed so far into my psyche that I'll never be able to escape it. Because I'll nevernotchoose them. Even when I don't want to.

I could have warned Jodie, but I didn't. There was a voice in my head telling me to stop Silas, that we all belong in jail and to just let it be over. But it was quiet.

It was loud when I first arrived here—beaten, broken, and terrified, the images from that night still vivid and fresh in my mind. It wanted me to go to the police. But slowly, thoseimages faded, becoming black and white, and in grey scale, bloodstains and vacant eyes don't look so bad.

Now, the voice is so quiet, its presence so rare, I barely have to ignore it anymore. It just fades into the background the way it is now.

I finally find the zip ties and drag one of the chairs from the kitchen table into the living room, stepping around Jodie's feet and stopping in front of Silas.

I can't even look at her.

"Noah?"

"What?"

"I want you to know that we don't just go around killing people, okay? This is not what our life is going to be like," Silas says.

"Okay."

"Hey." He stands and grabs me by the arm, turning me to face him. "I mean it. It's going to be peaceful. And there won't be any more of this. I promise."

"Peaceful?" I scoff. "With Tate?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, right."

"You'll see, Noah. We belong together—all three of us. That's how it's supposed to be. We'll be able to rest." He wraps his arms around my waist. "I haven't been able to rest in so long."

"It's a nice idea, Silas," I say, shrugging him off. "But we're a fucking mess. I don't think rest and peace are in the cards for any of us."

He frowns. "We should start zip tying her hands and feet."

"This should help," Tate says with duct tape in one hand and rope in the other.

Yeah, I'm a bad person. I'm areallybad person.

Silas holds Jodie in place while I zip tie her hands and feet and Tate ties her arms and torso to the chair with the rope. Once I'm done with the zip ties, I grab the duct tape and wrap her limp limbs with that, too.

Realizing she's secured, Silas takes a step back, admiring our work.

"Maybe I should stab her a little," he says.

"What? No. You're not going to stab hera little."

"It might be a good idea to keep her weak, Noah," Tate agrees.

"No, Tate."

"Hmm…okay. I'll be right back."

I don't ask Silas where he's going, but I have a pretty good idea when he heads for the staircase.

Just as I rip the duct tape on her legs, deeming her efficiently secured, Jodie jerks awake, screaming.

"Help! Someone help me!" she shouts. Then she looks down at me. She tries kicking me, but her efforts are futile. "You evil little bitch! You're going to rot in hell for this!"

"Uh, can I get that tape, Noah?" Tate asks.

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