Page 78 of Whispers of Helena
“Still not going to make nice?” he asks before tipping his beer back in a long gulp.
“Time for that is long gone. We’re two different people now, Marcel.”
His head bobs. “Got it.”
He stands from his chair and follows Eli, while the rest of the men splinter off into their own conversations. I stay seated, watching, listening, letting it all sink in. Not like I could join in, even if I wanted to.
I never really noticed it before, the way they overlooked me. I used to think it was out of respect, maybe even fear. But now I see it for what it is. I wasn’t part of their world.
It doesn’t take long before Ruth and Caroline make their way toward us. The men greet Ruth warmly, but Caroline keeps hereyes anywhere but on me, fingers wrapped tightly around her beer like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.
“Hello, Silas,” Ruth says as she stops in front of me.
“Ruth.” I drain the last of my drink, the burn in my throat easier to face than the woman standing just feet away.
“I’m glad you’re here tonight. Good to get out for a bit.” She offers me a smile, but it does nothing to loosen the tightness in my chest.
“I’m here for Eli. He deserves a good night.”
She nods, glancing between Caroline and me like she’s measuring the distance neither of us will close. “He does. Well, speaking of, I’m going to go say hello to that rascal brother of mine. Have a good night, Silas.”
“You too, Ruth.” She walks away.
A slow, hesitant beat passes before Caroline finally speaks. “I hope you’ve been well, Silas.”
I don’t look at her. “Just fine, thank you.” My eyes stay locked on the dance floor.
“And Kiran? I miss him.” Her voice is steady, but there’s a quiet plea beneath it, something fragile she won’t let me see.
“He’s good.”
Eli steps in, setting another drink in front of me before disappearing again. I welcome the distraction, wrapping my fingers around the glass; something solid, something real.
Caroline exhales softly, and I catch the way her breasts rise and fall from the corner of my eye. “Guess I’ll get back to Ruth,” she says, but she lingers for a breath longer. “It is good to see you out, Silas.”
She glances around the bar, the apparition of old memories hanging in the air between us. “We had some good times here. Hope you can remember that.”
She turns on the heel of her boot and walks away, leaving nothing but a trail of her perfume.
The bar grows louderwith each passing hour. The dance floor fills, boots scuffing against the worn wood, couples swaying and spinning in the hazy glow of the overhead lights. At some point, Ruth brought out a cake, cutting thick slices for all the men as they sang a boisterous, off-key rendition ofHappy Birthdayto Eli. I clapped along, forced a small smile, but the moment felt distant. Like I was watching through a window instead of being a part of it.
I wish I had driven myself. At least then I’d have the freedom to slip away when I wanted.
Settling onto a barstool near the pool tables, I let the shadows swallow me whole, nursing a drink I barely taste. That’s when the door swings open, the night air sweeping in behind a group of men. Something about them pulls at the edges of my awareness, forcing my attention.
The Everly boys.
Bennett leads them in, his stride easy, confident, an off-duty sheriff at his side. But it’s the men trailing behind him that make my blood turn to ice.
I know them.
Ikilledthem.
His brothers, his ranch manager, his nephew. Six men who should be buried six feet under.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I sink deeper into the shadows, heart hammering as I watch the spirits move through the room like they belong. They don’t drift or flicker like ghosts in some storybook. Theywalk. Theyexist. AndI’mthe one who put them in this state.
Eli appears in front of me, his face tense. “Do you see them, Silas?”
