Page 132 of Crave
He was home.
And if I thought the cartel was the biggest problem we had?
I was about to be very fucking wrong.
Chapter Thirty-Two
ANGELICA
Headlights cutthrough the dark like a knife. Dark shadows splashed across Theo’s bedroom walls, but it was the haunted expression on Gabe’s face that held me transfixed.
The second the engine was killed, the room fell into silence.
A thick, expectant kind of silence.
Silas was home.
And he knew.
The rear door of the house slammed open, the sound like a gunshot cracking through the air, rattling against the frame, shaking the walls, sending a ripple of tension through the house. Footsteps—heavy, deliberate, dragging.
Not slow, not cautious.
Angry.
The kind of rage that could level cities.
Theo exhaled sharply beside me, dragging a hand through his hair. Jude rocked back on his heels, rolling his shoulders like he was preparing for a fight.
And Gabe?—
Gabe just looked at me like he’d already put something together that he wasn’t ready to say out loud.
I turned away before I could see what was written on his face. Theo was the first to move, pushing past the rest of us and headed out of his room.
The others followed, leaving me behind. Panic set in, and that need to run surfaced once more. But I knew where that road led—right back to them.
Reluctantly I followed, my bare feet skimming the hardwood floors as I followed the sound of the others to the kitchen. The moment I stepped inside I felt him—even before I saw him.
But then I did and I couldn’t move.
Silas stood beyond the doorframe, one shoulder braced against the wall, blood streaked down his arms and splattered across the base of his neck.
His breathing was shallow, controlled. Too controlled.
He looked at Theo first.
Not me.
Theo tensed. “Silas?—”
But before he could finish, Silas was moving.
Too fast. Too unsteady.
He lunged, slamming Theo back against the wall, his forearm pining him in place.
“Where thefuckwere you?” His voice was raw, torn open by something deeper than anger.
