His hands circle my ankles. Holding on to them, as if for support.
“I’m sorry we never came for you,” he says raggedly. “When we should have found you years ago. You should never have been alone for a single second, Stasi. And finally, I’m sorry that we didn’t speak up when we should have. I have no excuse for that, but one.”
He looks up at me. At my damp cheeks.
“I wanted you,” he says softly. “Wanted you here. And when we found out that it was you…I saw an opportunity to bring you home, and I took it without a second thought.”
I swipe my hands over my face. My voice shakes when I speak. “Silas…,”
“I’m going to fix this,” he promises. His eyes are steady on my face. “We are going to fix this, Stasi. And when this is done… you still have a home here. Always. But it will be your choice, from now on.”
I can’t look at him. So I look down at my hands instead, twisting my fingers together. “My choice?”
He nods. “No more lists. No more cleaning. No more demands.”
I glance up incredulously. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
He tilts his head back, a low, broken laugh slipping out. “I will try to tone down the demands.”
I nod. “Much more achievable.”
He looks up at me, more vulnerable than I have ever seen him.
“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he says abruptly. “But I’m going to work to earn it, Stasi. I promise you.”
Slowly, so carefully, I reach forward, and run my fingers through his hair. His eyes close.
“You missed an apology,” I say, tugging lightly. His eyes fly open, and I catch the panic there. “For tonight. You overbearing ass. You should have told me they were coming. And then you ignored me. All night.”
He presses his lips together. “If I had looked at you, then they would have known. Better to ignore you than to put you at risk. Although I will apologize for not telling you why they were here.”
I eye him, but he looks unrepentant. I suppose I’ll have to take it.
And I feel a little warmer now.
“Okay,” I breathe. “But do not fuck this up again, Silas.”
He groans, pressing his head into my leg. “I wish that I could promise that. But… I probably will fuck up again. Never intentionally.”
Good enough. “Then you’re on a test run.”
“A test run?” He pulls his head back, staring at me in slight disbelief as he gets to his feet.
I cross my arms. “Take it or leave it.”
“Then I guess I’m taking it,” he murmurs. I suck in a breath as he grazes my lip. “She hurt you.”
“Not for the first time,” Rafe says. His knuckles are white as he holds his elbows. “But it will be the last.”
I open my mouth, but he’s already turning away, stalking out of the kitchen.
37 – Kit
“Rafe?”
He lifts his head up. His eyes are bloodshot as hell, and he holds up the glass in his hand. “Brother. Nice to see you. Both of you.”
“How much have you had?” It’s been barely an hour since we were in the kitchen, listening to Silas strip himself bare for Stasi. And Rafe is… absolutely trashed.
