Page 26 of Silent as Sin
I lifted one hand, fingers brushing the loose strands from her cheek, tucking them gently behind her ear. Her skin was warm, sun-flushed. Softer than I’d expected.
Her breath caught.
For a moment, we stood frozen, my hand lingering a second too long, her eyes wide, uncertain, but not afraid.
The tension between us stretched taut, humming in the air like the desert heat itself. One wrong move, and it would snap.
Her lips parted again, the faintest sound scraping her throat before she swallowed it back down. Frustration flashed across her face, her lashes dropping to shield her eyes.
I let my hand fall, curling it into a fist at my side to keep from reaching again.
“Someday,” I murmured, barely audible over the wind. “No rush.”
Her head lifted, eyes finding mine again, and this time she didn’t look away. She didn’t nod, didn’t move, but the silence between us said enough.
For a long moment, the desert held us both, two broken things standing at the edge of something neither of us had the words for.
Then, I stepped back, giving her space. “We should head back before they send someone looking.”
She drew in a shaky breath, turned toward the bike. And when she climbed on behind me again, her arms slid around my waist without hesitation.
Progress was progress no matter how small the step.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE CLUBHOUSE BUZZEDaround me, a storm ofsound I couldn’t outrun. Laughter cracked sharp across the air, voices tangled together in a hundred conversations, the scrape of boots grinding into the floorboards. Cards slapped against wood, a speaker crooned some old country song about heartbreak, and somewhere in the back, a bottle shattered, followed by more laughter.
I curled into the couch, blanket wrapped around me, I couldn’t seem to get warm enough since coming out of that crawlspace. And every time I sat out here, I kept wishing I couldvanish into the dark corners. Every sound pressed close until it felt like I was breathing through someone else’s hands.
Ashen’s voice had drifted down the hall earlier, low, commanding. He’d gone into the back with Warden and the others, leaving me out here in the noise, alone but not alone.
Not unprotected.
I’d seen him stop at the card table before he disappeared, leaning down between Jewel and Dusty. His words had been quiet, meant only for them, but I caught the way Dusty’s gray brows lifted, the way Jewel’s sharp eyes narrowed. Watching me. Guarding me. Guard dogs disguised as a grandmother and an old soldier.
Still, my hands tightened on the blanket until my knuckles ached.
The door slammed open, the clap of wood against the wall jolting me upright.
Perfume hit first. Heavy, sweet, cloying. It threaded the air like smoke, impossible to ignore. Then came the heels—loud strikes against the floor, each one claiming space, pulling every gaze in the room.
She walked in like she owned the place.
Dark hair spilling in waves, lips painted red as blood, a half-zipped leather jacket framing curves meant to be seen. The sweet butts squealed her name—“Roxy!”—their voices high and eager as they rushed to her, hugging her, clinging to her like a queen returned to her throne.
Her laugh rang out, big and bright, drowning everything else. It seemed she hadn’t been gone for long, but she made it feel like a homecoming worth a crown. And when the greetings softened, her next words cut through the air.
“Where’s Ashen?”
The question snapped something tight inside me, wire pulled jagged. My chest ached, my fingers digging deeper into the blanket, but my eyes couldn’t leave her.
The women leaned close, whispering loud enough for her to hear. “He’s been with her,” one of them said, chin tilted toward me. “Practically glued to her side.”
Heat shot up my neck, into my face, hot enough I thought they must all see it.
Roxy’s head turned. Her gaze cut through the room, found me instantly. She looked me over slow, deliberate, from my messy hair to the blanket clutched like a shield, all the way down to my bare feet pressed into the rug. Her silence cut deeper than words.
Her mouth curved into a smile, sweet on the surface, but her eyes—cold. Calculating.
