Page 92 of Runaways

"He's…you're…"

"Noah, he's not here. He's not here, baby. Calm down."

"You came back to kill me."

"No, I didn't. I could never hurt you; I know better now."

"Tate's going to kill me."

"I don't think so," he says.

"How'd you get in here?"

"I'm going to need you to repeat that," he says, staring deep into my eyes. "I was distracted; I can't stop looking at you. Are you sure you're real, baby? You look like an angel."

"How are you getting into my locked apartment, Silas?"

"Mmm, I went through the back door of the restaurant, took your keys from your locker, and copied them.Six-nineteen-four. Your combination is your birthday."

"Why? What do you want?"

"I just wanted to touch you." I hold my breath as he runs his fingertips up my arm, across my collarbone, and then trails them downward between my cleavage. "I want to know you again. I miss knowing you. It feels wrong not to."

"I'm the same."

"Are you happy?"

It's the same question he asked that night at the carnival. How could I be?

"No," I tell him, "I'm not happy. I miss…home."

"It's not home anymore, Noah. Nothing about it is home."

"Don't you ever miss it? Do you wish it still was?"

"I don't think about things like that, and you shouldn't either. I don't have time for any more regrets—not when I have so many around you."

"What does he want?" I ask. "Because I know he doesn't just want to see me and know me."

"We just want to play a game, Noah. Like we used to. You help us, and then maybe I can help you, too."

"Help me what?"

"Disappear. Your life here won't last much longer now—you know that, right, baby?"

I nod. "Yeah, I know, but…I don't have anywhere else to go. I kind of like it here; it reminds me of home, you know?"

"I do, but that's just how it is now."

"Because I'm a fugitive."

"Mmhmm," he says, trailing his fingers up my neck again. "But you're a really pretty one."

"I didn't do anything."

"That doesn't really matter now, does it? You need to stop running from us, though. You have nowhere to go—just like you said."

"Don't let him hurt me," I plead. "Silas, please don't let Tate hurt me."

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