I’m not sure it’s working.
Outside the window, mountains blur past. We’re driving fast, taking curves too sharp, but I don’t care where we’re going. Don’t care about anything except the image burned into my brain.
Silas on the floor. Blood everywhere. Looking at me with those grey eyes that I’ve loved since I was old enough to understand what love was.
Telling me to go.
My phone rings. Charles answers it, puts it on speaker.
“Parker?” Sienna’s voice. “Honey, are you okay?”
I can’t look away from the window long enough to answer. Can barely process that she’s talking to me.
“The boys are fine,” Sienna continues, her voice gentle. “They’re playing with Jimmy and Lottie. They don’t know anything’s wrong. I told them you had to team up with the guys for a work thing. They bought it completely.”
That breaks through the fog slightly. My boys. Noah and Liam. They’re safe. They don’t know.
Some of the weight on my chest lifts. Not much. But enough that I can breathe slightly easier.
“Parker, sweetheart, talk to me.” That’s my mother’s voice now. “Please say something so I know you’re okay.”
I press myself harder into Jace’s side. His arm tightens around me.
“She’s here, Mom,” Charles says. “She’s just...processing.”
“Processing,” I repeat, and my voice sounds hollow even to my own ears. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Parker—” our mom starts.
“The boys are safe,” I interrupt. “That’s all that matters.”
It’s a lie. The boys being safe matters, but it’s notallthat matters. Silas matters. Getting him back matters.
But I can’t say that with my mother on the phone. Can’t fall apart again when I’ve barely pulled myself back together.
“We’ll call you back,” Charles says, ending the call before Mom can respond.
Silence fills the SUV. Just the sound of tires on asphalt, the engine, breathing.
“Where are we going?” I finally ask.
“Safe house,” Charles says from the front seat. “About forty minutes outside the city. Secure location. We can regroup, figure out our next move.”
Next move. Like Silas is a chess piece that we can strategize around instead of a person. A man who just sacrificed himself.
For us.
For me.
The numbness is starting to wear off. I can feel it. The edges of panic are creeping back in, and the grief is trying to claw its way up my throat.
Cal’s hand tightens on my neck. “Breathe, angel. Just breathe.”
I breathe. In. Out. In. Out.
It doesn’t help.
The safe house is a cabin. Isolated. Surrounded by trees. The kind of place you could scream and no one would hear you.
