“We go to Santino’s hotel. See if there’s any footage we can pull from the cloud from before the system went offline. And more importantly, where that signal originated from.”
We sat silently, my eyes glued to the countryside landscape rushing by. Silas reached over, hand gently squeezing my thigh, and without thinking, I cupped it with mine.
“Are you okay, love?”
“No, but I will be. I always am.” I shifted my gaze toward him and admired his handsome profile. “Nothing a little bloodlust won’t cure. They won’t get away with this. I won’t stop until they’re all dead.”
Thirty
SILAS
Santino waited for us in the parking lot. I’d briefed him on the phone on the drive over. He dashed to the passenger side and opened the door for Leni, who ran for a grassy area beneath a light pole and dropped to her knees, violently retching the contents of her stomach.
“Leni,” I called, walking toward her until her hand shot out, warning me to stay back. She was on all fours now, crying between dry heaves, her fingers fisting the blades of grass and digging into the soil.
Fuck.
I felt every bit of her anguish as if it were my own. Watching her break caused a painful knot to form in my throat. I couldn’t help feeling like everything she’d gone through in the past month had happened because of me. Our relationship had somehow brought all this misfortune to her life. Parts of me wondered if she felt the same. In the moments after her father’s death, when she’d come looking for me to put a buckshot through my chest, she’d said as much. The destruction of her parents’ home could be the last tether binding us together.
The thought of losing her was a crippling one. Even after our relatively short time together, I’d grown to care about her.
I wouldn’t let her walk out of my life so easily.
“Santino ran to get you some water. Are you okay?”
She shook her head. “No.” Her voice was shaky and weak. “Go away.”
“Please, don’t do this. Let me help you. Don’t push me away because—”
Her head whipped in my direction, and red-rimmed eyes narrowed. “Silas, I’m fucking puking over here. Do you really think I want you to see me like this?”
Relief washed over me, a smile creeping over my face at the realization that Helena wasn’t ordering me away for good.
“That’s too bad.” I knelt beside her, taking her hair in my hand. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care.”
I thought I saw the glint of a smile cross her features before she turned away.
“You’re gross.”
I couldn’t help the soft laugh that bubbled out of my throat. “I’ve held your hair like this before, love.”
Another wave of dinner hit the ground, and she cursed on her next breath and punched the dirt.
“Breathe, baby. It’s okay. I got you.”
Her eyes slid over to me, but she said nothing. At that moment, Santino had returned, cracking open a bottle of water and setting it down at her side before tossing me a small, dampened towel.
“How is she doing?” he asked with genuine concern. I nodded and huffed a heavy breath. “I’m in suite 405.” He tossed me a key card. “You, 310.” With one last sympathetic glance at Leni, he left us alone in the car lot.
“I must look disgusting.”
“You think a little throw-up is going to scare me away?”
“No. I stabbed you twice and tried to shoot you, and yet here you are, holding my hair as I vomit my life out.”
I handed her the towel. “We’ve both seen and done worse things. This—you—doesn’t faze me in the least.”
She inhaled sharply and fixed her vulnerable gaze on me, her mouth parted slightly as though readying herself to speak but deciding against it.
