Page 121 of The Addict

He saw right through me.

And what did I expect really? I’d known this guy my whole life. I’d now been seen by him in almost every way. Of course he could tell that I was hiding something.

“Hey,” Silas murmured, reaching a hand out to touch my face. “Why aren’t you looking at me?”

I jerked my head back before Silas could touch me, but in doing so, tilted my bad side towards the light, and into his line of vision.

Silas’s hand halted. His eyebrows furrowed.

“What—”

And then he saw it.

His eyes widened and I tried to hide my face in shame. Too late. His hand flew back out, taking my cheeks forcefully, and turning my head back upwards.

I flinched from the contact.

“What happened to your eye, Noah?” Silas asked softly, turning my chin a bit each way to analyze the imperfection. “It looks terrible.”

Moments like these was when our age gap became apparent to me. Silas had entered incessant worrier mode.

Even through my annoyance, I couldn’t meet his gaze. “I got into a fight.” It was partly the truth. “Let go,” I added weakly.

“With who?” Silas demanded, ignoring my request. “Who did this?” he repeated, his thin fingers lightly outlined the soon to be scar.

I shoved his hands away, finally tired of being prodded. “No one, okay? This is nothing.”

“The fuck it is,” Silas growled, his jaw clenching. “Who fucking touched you?”

I was taken aback at his ferocity. “There is nothing you can do, so just drop it,” I hissed, standing and tossing the book to the other side of the room.

I shouldn’t have even let him in. He wasn’t going to let it go. “I’m not talking about this,” I insisted.

“You better,” he threatened, following me. “Or I’m staying here much longer than you’d like me to.”

I huffed impatiently. What was I supposed to tell him?

“You wouldn’t understand, Silas. I can’t–”

“What do you mean, I don’t understand?” he interrupted, placing his hand on his chest. “How am I supposed to understand, when you never tell me anything, Noah?”

“It was David,” I mumbled before I had the chance to stop myself. “He threw me down, and I hit the desk corner.”

Silas took a moment to ingest my words. His stoic features faltered and he cleared his throat before confirming, “Your father?”

I nodded sharply, even though that word felt like poison being injected into me. “Yes, my father. Are you happy with the information now? Just drop it.”

Silas spat out a laugh. “No, I won’t. Have you seen your eye? What did Damian say? Your father can’t be hurting you like that.”

My eyes began to water. The truth was brewing within me, about to surface. I couldn’t keep it down much longer. I was cracking.

Silas shook his head, and I could see his evaluation skills at work, attempting to find the logic behind this madness. He needed to label it, to classify it in order to understand it, and nothing was going to stop him from getting the information he desired. “Why would he even put hands on you?”

“He tends to get a little rough before he takes advantage of people.” The tear crawled down my cheek and past my nose after the words flew out. I didn’t even bother to try and hold back. It was sort of a relief, saying it outloud.

“He touched you?” Silas’s voice rose, and his hands curled into fists.

I snorted, wiping at my face, unable to believe I actually spoke the truth into existence. My laughter came out in nervous bursts.