Page 37 of Runaways

There are no houses for miles. And anyone inside the house is just as trapped as I am.

"You can't save her, Noah," Silas says. His hands close around my shoulders, and he gently pulls me away from Brielle's body. Then, with one foot, he carelessly kicks her over the edge and into the water.

I watch her sink beneath the surface, blood from her wounds painting the surrounding water a dark red before dispersing into something lighter.

"B-Brielle?"

My lower lip quivers as I stare into the pool, a part of me expecting that she'll come back to the surface, gasping for air, and I'll be able to pull her to safety.

Of course, that doesn't happen.

"You should have done a better job picking your friends, Noah."

"This isn't you!" I say through tears. "This isn't you, Silas. Iknowyou. You're not a bad person; you're not a killer, you…you were good."

Silas laughs. "Are you kidding me, Noah?" he asks before kneeling beside me on the ground.

I lower my gaze, flinching when Silas uses his thumb to lift my chin. I sniffle as our eyes meet. "Silas, please…"

"You know who I am," he says, running the blunt side of the blade—still wet with my friend's blood—down my cheek. "I've always been a killer, and I think you know that, too. I think—if you're honest with yourself—you've seen it. Maybe you even liked it."

I shake my head. "That's not true."

"It is. I was good to you, though, wasn't I? I was always good to you."

I nod, slightly.

He takes my hand in his and turns it over, tracing the fingerprint bruises on my arm. "He's hurting you, isn't he?"

"Mostly, he just hurts my mom."

"I told you," he says. "You should have come to me. I would have taken care of it for you."

"How could I? After all this time, you—"

"I wouldn't have made it hard for you. And then, maybe none of us would be here. This is your fault."

I sob. "Are you going to kill me now?"

"No, I can't kill you, Noah," he says. "You're too pretty. Tate's going to kill you, baby. And I have to let him."

When I start to cry, he adds, "I'm not happy about it. You should know that. But you didn't have to be here, either."

"I won't tell anyone," I whisper.

"I believe you, but that's not the point."

I whimper, grabbing a fist full of his t-shirt, stained in blood, and curl my body into his. I know it's foolish—seeking comfort after watching three of my friends die from the person who killed them and said he'd let me die, too—but he'sSilas.

And hewasgood to me. We were a part of each other—that's what he said.

"Noah…" He sighs, wrapping his arms around me. "Why do you have to be so sweet?"

He kisses the top of my head, taking the time to smell my hair before trailing kisses down my blood-stained cheek and then my neck, using his tongue and grazing my throat with his teeth.

"Silas…" I say breathlessly.

"I love it when you say my name like that. You know what? I wish I'd put a baby in you so that you couldn't leave me." He lifts his head, his lips lightly brushing mine just before we hear a loud crash from inside. Silas tenses, then pulls away, heading for the house without another word.

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