“Thanks, Maura,” I say, continuing on to put Silva over my shoulder. “Let’s go, baby. We need a time out.”
“Syrus,” Silva growls. “I’m working!”
“Maura’s got the bar,” I reply, turning to walk back out the way I came.
“Take a right down that hallway. There’s an exit there that’ll give you some privacy. Silva always keeps her keys on her,” Maura suggests.
“Traitor,” Silva complains.
I can hear the keys tinkling from a belt loop on her cargo pants, and all I can do is chuckle. Raising my hand to Shep, I find that several people raise their glasses to me in amusement. Fuck do I love living in Widows Peak.
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, walking down the hallway toward the exit. The sounds of the club get quieter the farther away I get from the main room, and Silva wiggles in annoyance.
“If I fart in your face, I won’t be sorry!” she yells.
I throw my head back and laugh, unable to handle how ridiculous she is.
“Come on, Silva. Are you really going to be so mean to me?” I croon, pushing open the back door. “You have keys for this?”
“Yes,” she pouts sullenly as I grin.
“Alright,” I say, exiting the building and setting her upright. “I punched an alpha on your behalf, so I suggest you tell me what happened.”
“You…what?” she asks, gaping at me. Her feet move her back slightly so that she’s not craning her head back to look at me. She’s so tiny and cute.
No, I will never say that because I value my balls, thank you.
“The dark headed one. I’m pretty sure he had it coming,” I say. “I ran into them as I was parking to drop off your keys. Care to tell me why you’re so spooked?”
“No one spooks me,” Silva denies, crossing her arms over her chest.
“So how come you’re so out of it tending bar?” I ask stubbornly. “Also, Harlan has to have done something huge to make you zap him like a bug.”
“Ugh!” Silva screams, stomping her feet.
“Please, continue,” I say, turning my palm up and gliding it through the air. At her frown, I shake my head. “I mean it. There’s no one here to judge you. It’s just you and me, Spitfire.”
“You see too much,” she complains, beginning to pace.
“I see you,” I reframe instead. “I care aboutyou.I need to know what has you so spooked. You’re not sleeping, you’re wearing war paint more regularly to hide it, and it’s done very well… But I still see it. So, what’s the deal? Are they blackmailing you? Do we need to hide some bodies, baby?”
Her watery laugh makes my chest tighten, and I’m very serious about committing all kinds of atrocities in her name as tears begin to streak her face.
“I don’t know yet,” Silva sniffles. “Harlan came up to get a drink and then asked me if I was born on January nineteenth. Who just randomly asks that? I don’t know him. He shouldn’t know anything about me.”
“Isidro told me that he was working on a cold case that involves sex trafficking,” I offer. “I didn’t tell you earlier. I’m sorry for that.”
“Why would you tell me?” she asks, waving away my words as she paces. “I shouldn’t have anything to do with sex traffickers.”
The way she phrases that makes my heart begin to pound. I desperately want to touch her, hold her, anything to change how upset she is. Since I can’t do that, I shove my hands deep inside my pockets instead.
“No, but are you?” I ask slowly.
Silva is several paces away from me when she whirls around to face me. It’s freezing out, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s breathing too hard, and her green eyes are fierce. She reminds me of a wild animal, where any sudden movements will cause her to run.
“When Lexi and I were eighteen, we ran away from our foster home,” Silva says. “The cliff notes version is that the people who found us were much worse, and trained us to be every alpha’s perfect omega. They were still sex traffickers with pretty wrapping.”
“How did you get out?” I ask.
