He drives slowly, taking every turn with care in the growing darkness. When we get to the motel, it's small and run down, but clean enough. Bev, the woman at the front desk, recognizes me and gives me a sad smile.
"Back again, honey?" she asks.
"Yeah. Just for tonight. We don't want to risk driving back to Seattle."
"Very sensible." Bev eyes Silas and winks at me. "Iwouldn't mind staying the night with a big hunk of a man, either."
As she rings up the room, Silas's jaw tightens. He leans down to whisper in my ear. "You stay here often?"
"Sometimes. When I visit Dad." I sign the register with numb fingers. "Like I said, he doesn't like overnight guests disturbing his routine."
He arches an eyebrow. "His house was a complete disaster when we got there."
"Can we please just leave it alone?" My voice cracks dangerously.
"That'll be $125, please." Bev taps a sign taped to the glass. "Charge only."
Silas growls at me when I try to pay. I put my wallet away as Bev grins.
"You two are cute. You're in room twelve."
Taking the room key, Silas guides me outside with a hand on my lower back.
Our room is extremely basic. One bed, thin walls, questionable carpet. The works. But it's warm and dry and blessedly far from my dad's house.
I stand in the middle of the room dripping rain, shaking. Not so much from cold as from everything. Today was a lot. Silas locks the door and puts on the deadbolt, then strips off his jacket and tosses it on the single, spindly chair.
"Strip," he says.
My fingers are partway through my insane nest of curls and I pause, looking at him. "What?"
"You're soaked through. Strip down and get under the covers." His voice is gentle but commanding. "Now, Scout."
"Bossy," I admonish. But even as I teasingly complain, I start to strip. I peel off my wet clothes with fingers that barely work and climb into bed in just my damp bra and underwear.
Silas strips too. As I watch, he pulls off his t-shirt, revealing those swoon-worthy biceps and miles of yummy-looking abs. Then he kicks off his shoes, shucks his pants, and slides in beside me. He pulls me against his chest with arms that feel like safety and makes this deeply comforting groan, like he's been waiting very patiently for me for years and he's just now getting his wish.
I’ve never felt that wanted, that special, to anyone before. It’s not a desire for how useful I can be or how I can practically fade into the background. He genuinely wants to be close to me.
The answer isn't dry-humping his leg, I'm pretty sure.
"You take care of everyone," Si murmurs into my hair, nuzzling. "Every single person around you. Now it's my turn to take care of you."
I try to protest, I swear. Just say that I’m fine and don’t need anything. But... the words won't come. Instead, a sob breaks free from somewhere deep. I’m consumed, frazzled, turned on, and a million other conflicting, confusing things. Another sob works its way out of my throat. Then suddenly I’m crying so hard I can't catch my breath.
He holds me through it. One hand stroking my back in steady circles, the other tangled in my hair. He's solid and steady and safe as he helps me ride out the storm.
"It's like my dad doesn't even see me," I choke out between sobs. "I clean his house. I make his food. I try so hard to matter. And he doesn't even look at me."
Silas sounds pained. "I know, sweetheart. I know."
"My whole life has been like this. If I'm useful, if I'm helping, maybe he'll love me. Maybe he'll actually see me as his daughter instead of just another person doing tasks." The words pour out now, unstoppable. "But he never does. He never has."
He makes quiet soothing sounds, but doesn't try to shush me or stop my tears.
I hiccup uncontrollably. "Now I do it with everyone. I can't stop myself. I smother people until they leave. They can't s-stand me anymore. They have to get a-a-away." Shaking so hard my teeth chatter happens. "Enzo was right about me. I'm too much. I drive people away by h-hovering."
"That isn't true." Silas's voice is fierce. He tilts my chin up with gentle fingers and forces me to look at him through my tears. "Enzo was a fucking idiot. Your dad is depressed and broken and trapped in his own grief. He can't see past his own pain. But that's not on you. None of that's your fault."
