Page 12 of Runaways

Now, it happens unceremoniously; it barely registers. I even forget to pull up on the handle so the door latches. When it slowly creaks open again, I don't bother correcting my mistake.

Silas throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him, kissing the top of my head. "It's going to be okay, Noah."

I laugh a little as we descend the staircase. "Silas, this is so not okay. If I'm being honest, it was never fuckingokay."

"Noah…"

I hear shouting and turn toward the direction of the voices. My mom is standing in front of the building, fighting with Mia and Tate's mom.

"Fuck…" I tear open the door of my mom's old green Saturn and throw my bag in the back before slamming it shut. "That's just…awesome. I wonder what they're talking about. Nothing humiliating, I'm sure."

"Don't worry about my feelings or anything."

I lean back against the vehicle with my arms crossed in front of me.

"You were happy," Silas says. "You had fun."

"Well, I'm not having any fucking fun right now. Andhe—" I bite my lip.He said we were in love. No one made him do that.I can't get the words out, so instead, I say, "He tricked me."

Silas shakes his head. "He loves you."

I scoff. "You can stop now—whatever you're doing. I'm not playing anymore."

He closes the space between us, tilting my chin until I meet his eyes. "Well, I love you. What about that?"

Before I can reply, Paul jumps out of the moving truck, muttering profanities as he storms across the parking lot toward my mom. Silas wraps an arm around me, his posture shifting from comforting to protective as we both watch him over my shoulder.

"Hey!" he shouts when he gets to my mother. He grabs her by her arm and jerks her backward, stepping between the two women as she stumbles. Mia's mom turns and heads back up the staircase as Paul lectures my mom, his face twisted withanger. I can't make out what they're saying, but he's pointing to our car, inches away from her face.

"Hey, Noah?" I look back at Silas. "You remember what I said about him?" he asks, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Yes, but that didn't really look like—"

"The first time he hits her—the first time he touches you—you better fucking tell me."

"And you'll cut his hands off?" I ask, attempting a laugh.

Silas's expression remains tight, unamused. "Yes."

I think of how easily he'd slit the animal's throat last night—of how carelessly Tate threw its corpse onto our fire. Maybe he does mean it; maybe I should be worried.

"Okay," I whisper as Paul stomps back to the moving truck, and my mom heads for the vehicle, her gaze lowered.

"Text me your address when you can. I can come and get you tomorrow."

"With your boyfriend?"

"Yes."

Tears sting my eyes. "No, thanks."

"You'll feel better if you just talk to him."

"No," I say more forcefully. "I don't want to do that."

"We're a part of each other—always have been. You don't get to just leave and forget about that. It won't work."

"Let's go," my mom says as she rips open the car door. Her lip turns up as she takes in Silas's body wrapped around mine; it makes me wonder what Mia's mom said to her. "Now. We're already behind schedule because of you."

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