And yet the mere thought of not hearing her each night as he lay in his bed was more than he could bear. Even thinking of running, escaping, being somewhere else instilled something remarkably like panic deep within him, and he was not a man who ever panicked. He was cold, ruthless and had no emotion, good or bad, when performing his duties. Emotion had no place in his dealings. Emotion made people rash, hasty. It made people make mistakes, second-guess, or hesitate. And any of those possibilities meant the difference between living and dying, killing or being killed, protecting those he was sworn to protect or failing them. He could never live knowing he had failed the people he had vowed no harm would ever come to.
For how long Silas sat there, transfixed and soothed by the notes Hayley wove together, he didn’t know. She was a magician, able to tame the beast when nothing or no one else could. Did she realize the extent of her gift? He was so lost in his thoughts and the oddity offeeling, just for a brief moment, of being at complete peace, something he couldn’t remember ever experiencing, that he didn’t realize the music had stopped until silence blanketed his bedroom, taking with it his ability to feel... joy,contentmentand the brief respite from the rage that always simmered so close to the surface.
He bowed his head, feeling the loss as keenly as if his heart had been cut from his body. He curled his fingers into tight fists, angry that heallowedher this control over him. Her music. Even as he realized the futility in blaming her for what she had no knowledge of. Then the realization that he had no power overallowingornotallowing her anything instilled a feeling of helplessness and of being powerless, two things he’d vowed never to be again. No matter his fury or the vicious war he waged within himself, he was forced to acknowledge that he had no ability whatsoever to break the power she had over his emotions, thoughts and mood. And that made him feel more helpless and vulnerable—defenseless—than he’d felt since he was just a child.
He stood abruptly and stalked back to the living room, livid at himself for not completing his security sweep of the perimeter. It was a practice heneverdeviated from. Every time he left and then returned to his apartment, he always went over every single area his cameras kept a steady eye on. He had traps set inside his apartment, ways of knowing if anyone had been within, and yet he’d forgotten everything the moment he’d heard Hayley’s violin.
He swore viciously, enraged with himself for being so easily distracted. Distractions were what got a person killed. He was the man Drake was depending on to keep him and Evangeline safe, and yet Silaswasn’t even able to maintain his own security and see to his own safety thanks to his new neighbor, a woman he should have never softened toward. He should have never offered her the apartment adjoining his. To this day he was still bewildered by the sudden urge that had come over him when he saw the anguish and desperation in her face. It was so unlike him to ever give in to impulse and yet not only had he demanded that his manager offer her the apartment, but he’d also ordered him to have his driver see her home and then he’d paid the contractor an obscene amount of money to reconstruct the walls and make what had been one huge apartment spanning the entire top floor into two apartments so Hayley would have a place to live.
Stupid. Impulsive. Irrational.
And all three were a recipe for disaster and actions a man like him should never succumb to—had never succumbed to. Until now.
The only plausible explanation for his uncharacteristic behavior was that Hayley had reminded him far too much of Evangeline in that dark time when Drake had believed she had betrayed him, had betrayed them all, and had thrown her out of his life. Perhaps the incident wasn’t as far removed from his memory as he’d thought. Yes, that had to be the only reason he’d acted on such impulse and refused to turn away a young woman who looked so vulnerable and desperate.
He meticulously checked the indicators that would let him know if anyone had entered his apartment during his absence. When he’d studied each one, three times in succession, he then went back to the monitors, disturbed and uneasy by the deviation in his routine. He always locked up first. Then he reviewed footage from each of the monitors, rewinding and watching until he was satisfied that there had been no intruders. Then and only then did he check his traps. After strict adherence to the routine that had become automatic—until now—then and only then would he see to his personal needs, but even those werecarried out in exact order. Until fucking now. He cursed savagely, venting his frustration for the disruption, becauseanydeviation from his routine greatly unsettled him and threatened his fragile hold on his sanity.
As a result of the change in the order of his tasks, and because his anxiety was so great he could barely breathe much less pull himself back together, he rewound the security footage once, twice and then a third time until he was finally satisfied that no one had trespassed on his private domain. Still tense, he went to his liquor cabinet and poured a drink in an effort to calm his rioting thoughts. He sank into the leather chair facing the monitors and ran a hand raggedly through his hair.
He had to do something about her. She couldn’t remain so close. She was driving him to the brink of insanity. She was a huge distraction. One he couldn’t afford. And yet the thought of making her leave and denying himself the healing balm of her music made him feel bereft. Lonely when he’d been alone his entire life, and before now it hadneverbothered him. He embraced solitude and isolation. He was far more uncomfortable in the presence of people than when he was alone. Heknewhow to be alone. He didn’t know how tonotbe alone.
To his utter astonishment, shame and guilt suddenly plagued him. Shame he was well acquainted with, having lived it for the first eleven years of his life. Since then he’d refused to feel shame for any of his actions. But guilt? He was flabbergasted that for even a brief moment he had felt an emotion that wasn’t just foreign to him. It was, quite simply, something he had never even imagined he was capable of.
He recognized his selfishness, though, and shame and guilt both accompanied that realization. He’d thought to get rid of Hayley, remove her from close proximity so he could go back to his well-ordered and disciplined existence, yet he couldn’t deprive himself of those precious few stolen moments when her music gave him beauty and peace such as he’d never known. Were it not for that one thing, he likely would havehis manager move her somewhere else, citing repairs that must be made. Having already been witness to the desperation and sorrow in her eyes, how could he be a complete bastard and turn her out when she’d unknowingly given so much to him? He knew damn well how much she needed the apartment he’d given her. He’d seen—hell, he’dfelt—her joy and gratitude over his renting it to her. And yet, were it not for what she gavehim, he’d put her out on the streets without anywhere to go and no way to protect herself from the evil he was only too well aware existed there. He trulywasthe monster he’d been deemed.
He slammed his empty whiskey glass down in frustration. She was driving him insane and they hadn’t even met. In the two weeks she’d lived here, he’d felt all manner of things he’d never allowed into his mind before. Selfishness, shame and, worst of all, fucking guilt. He had to dosomethingor she’d make him weak, defenseless and ineffective as the enforcer for the people he protected. Because how could he focus on his primary objective when his thoughts were consumed with a woman who didn’t even know he existed?
He was so absorbed in self-loathing that at first he didn’t register the knock at his door. When it sounded again, his head came up, nostrils flaring as anger seized him. Too much of his routine had already been destroyed today. And now some idiot was knocking on his door? If it was his manager again, he’d have his fucking head. The man knew not to ever disturb Silas and, above all,nevercome up unannounced to his apartment.
Never one to chance anything, he stood and slipped his gun into the shoulder holster he always wore. Then he secured his knives in their rightful places on his body. When he was fully armed, he threw on a light jacket but kept the front open so he could easily access his weapons. Then he went to the door, uneasiness gripping him. But when he glanced through the peephole, he nearly stumbled back in shock.
Hayley?
What the hell was she doing here? How had she even known he lived here?
He forced himself to calm his rapid breathing and still his racing pulse. Perhaps she didn’t at all know who lived here. Perhaps she was merely being neighborly. Or maybe she had a problem or needed something—help.
His mind sorted through the various possibilities at the speed of a computer. She seemed to be every bit as much of a loner as he was. He never saw anyone at her apartment. She never entertained. Didn’t seem to have friends, or at least no one she invited over. But then she was rarely at home. For that matter, what was she doing home so early today?
It was the thought of her needing help or having a problem that made Silas go against his every instinct and begin unlocking the series of deadbolts. If it had been anyone else, he would have simply ignored the knock and left whoever it was to conclude no one was home.
When he got to the last lock, he realized, to his consternation, that his hands were trembling. He took a step back, sucking in a deep breath to compose himself, and then he slowly rolled the doorknob in his palm and eased the door open.
9
Hayley swallowed her nervousness as she knocked a second time, deciding that if no one answered she would simply leave the pie on his doorstep with the thank-you card, and she’d simply write the instructions to promptly refrigerate the pie at the bottom of her note.
She was about to squat to set the pie to the side when she heard fumbling with the locks from the inside. She quickly rose, her mouth going dry. She wiped her free hand down the leg of her jeans to rid it of the clammy moisture and waited as she heard more locks being undone.
She frowned. How many locks did the owner have on his door? Was he aware of danger to the apartment building that she wasn’t? Perhaps he was simply paranoid. She suspected he was an elderly man, perhaps even retired, and renting out the apartments to supplement his pension. She could hardly fault him for wanting to feel safe.
But when the door finally opened, Hayley’s mouth fell open as she stared into the face of a man who wasn’t remotely elderly or even middle-aged. She shivered at the cold flatness to his eyes and the fact that his expression portrayed irritation and surprise and was definitely not welcoming. In that moment, she knew she’d made a huge mistake by encroaching on his privacy. His irritation over the intrusion wasplain to see on his face. If her feet had not been rooted to the floor in fear, she would have fled.
He was young. Or at least far younger than she’d imagined, having already conjured an elderly retired gentleman. Yet older than she was by at least ten years. Maybe more. It was hard to tell. He had a timeless look but upon closer examination, there were lines in his face that told of pain and a man aged beyond his years. He was also devastatingly handsome. Tall, very broad shouldered, his chest massive. Even his thighs, encased as they were in faded denim, bulged like tree trunks. There didn’t appear to be an inch of spare flesh anywhere on him, and his thin T-shirt would certainly have betrayed such if there were.
His hair, perhaps the darkest black she could ever remember seeing, was a brilliant foil for the dark green eyes assessing her until she squirmed beneath his scrutiny. She couldfeelhis gaze, an electric current, as it swept over her, and then when he finally met her gaze, she was thunderstruck. A full-body shiver rolled through her and chill bumps prickled and danced over every inch of her skin.
It was obvious she was intruding and equally obvious the intrusion wasn’t welcome. Acute embarrassment seized her, and to her mortification, heat invaded her cheeks at the realization he could surely see the betraying flush.
