I smile, pulling the sweater tighter around me as I make my way down. Yesterday had been exhausting, spending most of it deflecting his mother’s endless questions. I had to repeatedly explain that Silas and I weren’t together, which only led to more prying,
“Are you single, then? What do your parents do? Why didn’t you visit them for the holidays?”
Fun times.
Silas hands me a cup as I sit beside him on the deck, crossing my legs and settling into the chair. “Freshly brewed coffee,” he says with a wink, sinking into his own seat.
I wrap my hands around the warm mug and take a sip, the heat cutting through the morning chill. Silas is wearing a black-colored sweater, though he has a turtleneck, paired with moss-green pants that fit him perfectly. He’s always had a way of looking effortlessly put together and elegant, but never flashy. His brothers, on the other hand, couldn’t be more different. Luca always dresses in black, even back in school. Now that he lives in Miami, I have no idea how he manages to stick to that color. Oliver showed up yesterday in jeansand a fitted white shirt, and Killian immediately started teasing him, saying he looked like a cowboy. Funny, since Killian wasn’t dressed all that differently.
The Walker brothers have a peculiar dynamic—equal parts brotherhood and rivalry. When they’re together, it’s like watching strangers at a poker table, each one hiding their cards and trying to outwit the other.
“Thanks,” I say, taking another sip of the coffee. The warmth spreads through me, easing the cold that’s biting at my skin.
“Did you sleep well?” Silas asks, his gaze fixed on the sea.
I glance over at him, studying the slight puffiness under his eyes, the dark circles that seem more prominent this morning. He looks like he hasn’t rested much at all. “Better than you, I bet,” I joke lightly.
He rubs the back of his neck, wincing. “That chair might be expensive, but it’s definitely not made for sleeping all night.”
“Chair?” I raise an eyebrow, setting my cup on my lap. “I thought you were sharing a room with your brothers.”
He scoffs. “Pfff, they all slammed the door in my face. I ended up on the living room couch.”
I frown, guilt washing over me. “Silas” I scold softly. “Why didn’t you come to the room?”
His sky-blue eyes meet mine, a flicker of something playful in them before he hides behind his coffee cup. “Didn’t want to intrude. My mom’s already doing that for me.” He laughs, and I can’t help but join in.
Our laughter fades into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves filling the space between us.
“I’m ready to ask you some questions.”
Back Then- Silas’s House.
The sensation of water enveloping every inch of my body as I’m dragged under triggers every survival instinct I have. Panic surges through me like a live wire. A hand—massive and unyielding—forces my head to stay submerged, and no matter how hard I thrash, I can’t break free. The surface feels miles away, unreachable. The pressure on my skull is unbearable. Someone grabbed me, covered my face, and dragged me from the hallway to the pool. I didn’t see who it was or how many were involved. All I know is that if I don’t surface soon, my lungs will collapse.
When I think I can’t hold my breath any longer, the hand releases me just long enough for a shallow gasp before plunging me back into the water. The briefest mercy—then back into the nightmare.
Through the garbled, distant sound of underwater screams, I can hear the voices are female. My hands claw at the massive fingers knotted in my hair, but they don’t give. It’s a man—strong and merciless. Silas? No, it couldn’t be. He’s a lot of things, but I’ve never seen him use physical violence with me.
And this is brutality.
The cold water burns my eyes, and my chest tightens like it’s about to implode. The hand tightens, and my vision begins to blur, darkness encroaching on the edges. The screaming from above the water becomes frantic. More desperate. Something else is happening—something that terrifies them more than whatever’s happening to me.
Then, the hand loosens its grip and shoves me toward the surface. I break through, gasping, the air scorching my lungs. My hair is plastered to my face, my ears ringing as the bubble of isolation bursts. Suddenly, the screaming and chaos around me flood in all at once.
I hear people running, their shouts indistinct, but then a familiar voice cuts through the haze.“Come on, come on!”And then someone dives into the water beside me. Arms wrap around me, pulling me to the edge.
“Are you okay?!” Silas’s voice. Urgent, panicked. He drags metoward the pool’s ledge, but I shove him away, fury rising with the salt of my tears.
“Howcouldyou!?” I scream, choking on my own sobs, the trauma of the moment and years of pent-up anger spilling out at once. I can’t make sense of my thoughts, can’t process the terror of nearly drowning, but I latch onto the only thing I know for certain—he created the culture of cruelty at school.
He made this possible.
Silas stares at me, bewildered. “I didn’t do it! Lauren?—”
I try to haul myself out of the pool, but my body is too weak, too exhausted. Silas lifts me from the hips, pushing me up until I collapse on the concrete, coughing and trembling. His wet hair clings to his forehead, his clothes soaked, clinging to every muscle as his chest heaves with labored breaths.
“Silas, what do you want us to do with him?” a voice calls from behind me. I glance over to see his brothers—Killian, Oliver, and Luca—restraining Matt. His hands are tied behind his back, and Luca has his foot pressed against Matt’s head, pinning him to the ground.
