This is why I keep extra clothes down here.
That settled, I hit the code for the incinerator, taking care of what’s left of the man in the polo. Edison had it installed once he realized that I truly enjoy taking someone down to the atoms.
And this monster? He deserved everything I gave him. I love it when they die terrified.
It makes me feel a little more human.
I wonder what Oakley would think of that.
That reminds me. This one took a little longer than I had anticipated, and now I’m late for Oakley’s test.
I curse as I exit the room.
That fucking test.
As soon as I take it, he’ll know.
He’ll know.
7
OAKLEY
I’ve been staringat a blank wall for over an hour.
My new office is blissfully sterile. All shiny surfaces, meant to reflect and disappear into the Hill Country. I’m normally a plant guy. Art too. But right now, I appreciate the emptiness. It’s easier than acknowledging the files that are still open on my laptop.
The second I got to my computer, I pulled Silas’s file. I was so eager to get the answers to the questions I’ve always had. I was in no way prepared for what I found.
I read the reports. Including the report my father wrote about how he killed a human trafficker named Silas Wayne Blake.
Our Silas’s sperm donor.
I saw the videos. Specifically, the one where they found little Sy with animal blood running down his chin. Underfed. Looking like a creepy miniversion of Blake.
I close my eyes, but it doesn’t help.
I register, vaguely, a knock at the door.
“You want me to come back?”
Mav fills the doorway, hesitant.
I shake my head. “Come on in.”
He sits. We stare at each other for a solid minute.
“So…we’re, like, trauma bonded now, right?” he asks.
I laugh, and honestly, I feel better for it. “Basically.”
“Are you okay?”
I snort. “Yeah, maybe. I can’t stop thinking about Silas.”
“Me too. Like, how is he such a good dude with all of that?”
“I don’t know.”
