Page 17 of Ugly Truths
“Don’t be a coward,Elena.”
A hand clamps around my jaw, thumb and middle fingers pressing into the hinge, an ache already settling deep in the muscle and forcing my mouth open. With a quick jerk, my gaze is forced upward. His eyes—hell’s own inferno—burn into mine.
“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
For a split second, I hoped my many nightmares would dull this pain, but Silas’s hatred cuts through me as sharp and effective as any torture.
Just as I part my mouth further to speak, his grip digs into my skin to keep me still. Pain laces through the joint and I gasp.
“Don’t say a fucking word until I tell you to,” he seethes, face only inches from mine.
Tears well behind my eyes, and I blink them away furiously. There has to be something so deeply wrong with me because, despite everything, feeling his calloused fingers against my skin—to have him standing directly in front of me—feels like taking my first real breath in months.
And almost instantly, it’s replaced with a weight so heavy that I could swear I’m drowning.
“Already starting with the theatrics?” He bares his teeth, lips curling into something that’s almost a smile.
Cillian. Cillian was the one who grabbed me.
“How did you find me?” I whisper, forcing my mouth to move against his hold.
His laugh is low and mirthless, twisting the sharp pain already embedded deep in my chest. “Your bank account in Arizona.” My stomach plummets.How could I be so stupid?“You held out longer than I expected.” His eyes narrow, poison lacing his words. “Did your little boyfriend run out of money?”
Holy fuck. Luis.
Whatever they drugged me with must melt brain cells because it hadn’t even crossed my mind that they’d take him, too.
“Where’s Luis?” My voice somehow remains even, despite my hammering pulse.
Silas's grip intensifies before he shoves me back, releasing my face like a filthy rodent. He recovers quickly as he turns, shifting to lean against the wall a few feet away, composed once more.
“Is that his name?” His voice is almost bored. “He’s been… uncooperative.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push past the roaring static in my mind. God only knows how long I’ve been out and how long they’ve been trying to get answers out of Luis. Of course, he’s still holding out to protect me.
Damnit, Luis. You stupid, stubborn asshole.
“Silas,” my voice teeters on desperate despite my best efforts, “all he did was help me leave Chicago. This is all on me.”
“How noble of him,” Silas sneers, tilting his head. “If he involved himself in your mess,Elena, then he’s as guilty as you are.”
He says my name like a curse, and I wince. The slight reaction fuels him; his lips curling until a diabolical smile settles onto his perfect face.
“You hate it, don’t you?” His voice dips. “That I figured out who you really are. I know more about you than you ever thought possible, Ms. Cross.”
A bitter laugh bubbles up before I can stop it. I can practically see Davey at his computer, Cillian hovering nearby, the others not far behind. Each of them pulling apart the pieces of my life like they’re solving some puzzle. Every police report from a neighbor calling about my parents screaming through the walls. Every address tied to a building that should’ve been condemned. The few ER visits that only happened because the school nurse threatened to call someone if they didn’t. The media coverage of Drew’s death.
My eyes burn as I drop my gaze, my head hanging under the crushing weight of shame.
“You’re the most capable person I’ve ever known,” I murmur barely above a whisper. “I have no doubt you figured it all out.”
Silence settles while I stare at my lap, and I start to wonder what he’s thinking about before he breaks it.
“Why?”
I turn my head toward him, my voice worn and heavy. “Why what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” he snaps, pushing off the wall and stepping in front of me again. “You owe me more than that.”
