Page 9 of Ugly Truths
Silas doesn’t answer right away. His head hangs for a moment before he forces himself to look at me again. The man staring back at me is a stranger.
“I’d rather die,” he spits, hoarse but venomous, “than be saved by this bitch.”
I flinch, the tears streaming down my face blurring my vision even more. “Silas,” I whisper. “Please.”
Peter laughs.
“You heard the man,” Peter bellows happily, just as he drags the blade across Silas’s throat.
Even as I scream, Silas’s dark eyes remain on mine until they lose focus, blood spilling out of his jugular and splattering onto the floor. The life drains from his glare, body slumping forward to join Natalie’s in the growing pile of crimson.
My sobs echo as Peter’s laughter rings in my ears, louder than anything else.
The sheets cling to me like a second skin, damp with sweat and tangled around my legs as if the ropes in my nightmare have followed me into the waking world. I shove them away, gasping for air as I press my hands to my chest.
The early morning light filters through the thin curtains, casting muted purples and grays over the room. The aftershocks hum through my body. No matter how many times I try to count my breaths, my lungs refuse to fillenough for relief.
I hug my knees to my chest, curling into myself as the tremors in my hands subside.
These nightmares are a plague I can’t escape. I deserve them as a punishment for everything I’ve done, but that knowledge doesn’t make them any easier to endure.
Natalie’s lifeless body flashes in my mind again, her rings catching the fluorescent light. I press my forehead to my knees, trying to block it out. Nausea climbs in my throat.
Peter managed to escape the warehouse district alive. That much was evident when he began his relentless hunt for Luis.
Luis expected it. He was already careful to keep his personal life hidden from Peter before all of this. He led Peter on a wild goose chase across the country, leaving only dead ends and fake trails.
Not only did Luis cover his own tracks, but he also covered mine.
Somewhere along the way, he pulled the right strings and altered the official police report to include an unidentified female body found in the ashes. The body didn’t exist, of course, but Peter didn’t know that, and through his network, Luis all but confirmed that Peter believed I was dead.
So while he looked for Luis, Peter believed the explosion had erased me from the equation entirely. Eventually, Peter called his dogs off the chase. At least for now.
As for Silas and Natalie, I suppose they think I’m dead, too. Or a coward.
If they had tried to call me since then, I wouldn’t know. I cut off my old phone provider the night I left and ditched it on the street just a few blocks from Silas’s home. If Silas’s team managed to salvage even a fragment of the footage Luis scrubbed, then they saw me trying to destroy something of theirs and killing myself in the fallout. Either way, they won’t mourn me, and rightfully so.
My hand trembles as I reach for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lights up, its glow harsh against the darkness. My fingers hover over the search bar of a new browser, hesitating before typing his name.It’s a ritual I despise, but one I’m powerless to break. Those dreams always leave me needing to make sure they’re still alive and breathing.
The first result is an article about a charity golf tournament.
My heart tightens as I tap the link, waiting for the page to load. It’s a glowing piece about the event Natalie and Leslie planned before I left. The photos are polished and bright. Players holding trophies, group shots of attendees, including Natalie and Davey.
And him.
He looks the same with his sharp features and confident posture. His hair is a little shorter, and he’s wearing a tailored polo and fitted golf pants that sit too perfectly on him. He looks… God. He looks incredible.
My stomach twists as I scroll to the next photo. He’s in the center of a group, arm draped easily around the waist of a striking redhead with sharp cheekbones and a smile that practically leaps off the screen. I’ve seen her before in recent headlines.
In the next image, she’s leaning toward him and laughing. Silas is looking down at her, his expression warm and open. The ache in my chest deepens. I swipe to another photo, this one of the two of them standing closer together on the green.
The captions discuss the established rumors that Silas has taken an interest in this Alice woman, but I don’t even have to read it to know. I can see it. He looks happy, and she’s beautiful.
“This is what you wanted,” I whisper to myself.
The words feel like ash on my tongue. It’s true, isn’t it? I didn’t want him dragged down by me. I wanted him free. But now that I’m seeing it, watching himbefree of me...
My hand moves almost unconsciously, exiting the article and pulling up the hidden folder on my phone. There are only a handful of photos of us in it, all saved from local gossip sites.
