Page 198 of Chaos

Something akin to a laugh escapes me. Wood creaks as I take a seat too, feet propped on the back of the pew in front of me, hands curled around my knee caps.

Three hands. Both of mine, and another resting on top of one, pale against my tan.

“Right,” Silas grunts roughly, shifting in that ever-failing quest for comfort, slouching as if he’s settling in for a long night. “Spill it.”

“What?”

“Anything. Everything. Get it all out.”

“I don’t think I’m allowed to scream in a church.”

“I don’t think this is really a church.”

“I’m sure it counts.”

“Well, I hear the good Lord is real forgiving.”

“I think I used up all my forgiveness.”

Silas sighs. Shifts an inch closer. Promises, “He’ll be okay.”

Another knot adds itself to the ever-growing tangle of them sitting heavy in my gut. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“You can’t.”

“I can. I’m old. That makes me wise.”

“Yeah, you’re a regular oracle.”

Patting my hand, he repeats his useless assurance.

I shake my head. He wasn’t there. He didn’t see him. He can’t still feel blood rushing from a gaping wound, he can’t still see the literal life fade from a face, he—

Surprisingly strong fingers tighten around mine. “Enough, girl. God himself would have to haul his ass down here and drag that man away from you.”

My eyes burn, so I close them. “I don’t think you’re supposed to talk about God’s ass.”

“I’m old,” Silas repeats. “Not worth smiting.”

“Can you move over, just in case? I don’t wanna get second-hand smited.”

“Smote.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Hm.”

“Wow. Youarewise.”

Silas huffs a laugh, a small smile quirking his thin lips, and I find myself smiling back until I realize what I’m doing. Until I realize that I’m smiling, joking, fucking around, while my boyfriend…

I press hand to the base of my throat, wishing my fingers could sink beneath my skin and pluck out the lump making it so very hard to breathe.

“Talk,” Silas requests again—commands, really.

For once, “I don’t have anything to say.”

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