Page 48 of Ugly Truths
His accusation is filled with such disgust that I should probably take offense, but it’s hard to when you’ve known someone for so long. Silas is many things: a great leader, a good brother, and a loyal friend. He’ll absorb someone else’s emotions and turn them into action, walk you through hell with logic and understanding. When it comes to himself, he’s never been able to do the same.
“You think I stayed in that basement for two days interrogating her for my own health?” I ask. “Sure, it was for Wells, but it was also foryou.I needed to know everything I could because if you were going to keep destroying yourself over this woman, I had to at least see if she was worth it.”
Silas doesn’t say anything, but I can see the tension roll through him.
“I understand her now,” I go on. “Maybe too much, to be honest. She told me things I didn’t even ask for that make a hell of a lot more sense now that I’ve had time to think about them. That’s why I let Natalie move her in.”
The muscle in his jaw flutters at the mention of the sore subject.
“I didn’t like it at first either, but Nat was probably onto something. Elena’s done everything right; answered every question without hesitation or attitude, kept her head down, shown remorse, and hasn’t stepped a toe out of line yet.”
I push off the desk, standing slowly. “I’m not saying I trust her, but I’m leaning toward believing her.”
Silas looks at me like I’ve just punched a hole through his chest.
I could leave with just that. Maybe I should. But he always does better when I give him one last shove off the proverbial cliff and force him to figure out how the hell he’s going to land.
My movements to button my suit jacket are intentionally slow. “There’s no reason you can’t let yourself be happy. For whatever reason, she makes you happy, so why torture yourself when you just have it? She’d let you.”
I’m already turning toward the door. “It’s okay to change your mind,” I say over my shoulder and let him sit with it. Silas never lets something go once it gets under his skin.
And I just gave himplentyto think about.
Chapter 21
Elena
It’s been five days since Silas stormed into the guest room and took me on the bed like it was the only thing keeping him alive. He didn’t linger, and as much as I wanted to beg him to stay, I didn’t have that right. So when he messily dressed and walked out with barely a goodbye, I had to just let him go.
Every minute since he closed that door feels like tearing open an old wound, exposing something raw and vulnerable. It almost hurts more than the first time.
But I suppose I got the best of what he could offer me, didn’t I? Just one more chance to feel him, even if most of it was buried under all that rage.
The look on his face when he admitted that he still wanted me makes my teeth ache. So, I gave him what he demanded; partially for myself, but mostly because he was right. He deserved to take what he wanted, and he delivered.
I absorbed as much of his anger as I could, even if it broke something in me. Now I’m left to exist in the aftermath, doing everything I can to push it from my mind.
Most of my days have been consumed troubleshooting program issues with Ben, Corey, Luis, and Davey over the phone. The logic bombs have made the entire process delicate, but they’re close to making it work.Soon, we might finally have answers, though I’m not sure I’m ready for them.
In the spaces between, I’ve tried to fill them with distractions. I spend time with Natalie when she isn't charity event planning or committed to other obligations. She’s been kind enough not to ask questions about the day Silas showed up and left without a word.
Hell, I’ve even been trying to get to know Cora, who must’ve drawn the short straw because she’s stuck keeping an eye on me. She mostly stays in the kitchen, perched on one of the barstools, scrolling through her phone while ignoring me. She’s here before I wake up and only leaves when Davey gets home at the end of the day and locks up the house like Fort Knox.
When I slip in for coffee, I talk her ear off. Anything to keep my mind from spiraling. Her responses are clipped, but sometimes, I catch the smallest hint of amusement when I ramble on about something. Entering the kitchen today is no different. Before I even see her, I'm picking up where I left off yesterday.
“Also, it drives me nuts when someone accuses you of ‘spoiling’ the plot of a movie that came out twenty years ago. If you have watched it yet—”
I expect Cora to be rolling her eyes at me, phone in one hand and coffee in the other. Instead, Silas is leaning against the counter near the coffee maker, arms and ankles crossed in that effortless way he always manages to carry himself.
His head jerks toward me, a dark curl slipping over the frames of his glasses, and my entire body locks up under his stare.
“Oh.”
The word escapes before I can catch it, and my cheeks heat. Folding into the nearest corner feels preferable to this, but I force my hands behind my back, gripping them together so hard it hurts.
He’s dressed for the office—dark blue suit, black tie, polished black shoes, and his signature subtle accessories. Immaculate and self-assured.
Those deep brown eyes sweep over me in a slow drag from my face to my toes and back again. The way he takes his time makes my skin prickle. His expression is blank. No appreciation. No disdain. Nothing.
