Page 49 of Closer Than You Think
“No.” I answer quickly because I didn’t need to think about it. His eyebrows quirk up and I can tell he doubts me. “I’m heartbroken you went through such a trauma. And I’m scared of you getting hurt. I can’t say I agree with what you do. But I’m not scared of you.”
“Really?”
“We’re connected, you and me. I’m yours now, remember?”
“Oh angel, I will never forget that.” He kisses my nose.
“You’re intense and dark and probably my exact opposite,” I say with a chuckle. “But,” I grab his face in my hands, “I could never be scared of you.”
He watches me, considering that. And then kisses me again.
“Good. You don’t ever have to be scared of me. You know I’d never hurt you. Not really,” he says, sliding his finger along the cut he made on my neck. “You’re my angel. I’d give my life for you. I’d burn the world down for you. You’re my other half, the missing part of my soul. The innocence and light that never existed in me.”
A tear falls down my cheek as I listen to him. Every word he says is wrapped in truth. Silas doesn’t talk just to talk. He means what he says, and my heart skips a beat at the intensity of his love for me.
I nuzzle into his chest and feel his chin rest on my head.
“I love you, Si.”
“I love you, angel.”
Twenty-Three
Silas
The next night, I’m wrapped around a sleeping Hallie, lost in the feel of her and half awake from a hazy sleep when I hear it. My eyelids snap open, synchronized with the incessant buzzing that claws at the edge of my consciousness. I reach blindly for the phone, veins pumping adrenaline, heart hammering like it knows trouble before my brain registers it.
“Thatcher,” I growl into the receiver, voice thick with sleep and annoyance.
“Si, it's Cain. Get to Ares. Now.” His tone is a blade—sharp, urgent.
“Talk to me.” The words come out terse as my feet hit the cold concrete floor. I'm already moving, the need to act threading through my muscles.
“Face-to-face. It's critical,” he insists, and I can almost feel the weight of his stare through the line.
“Understood.” I end the call, feeling the gravity of the situation settle on my shoulders. Cain doesn't rattle easily. If he's calling me at this ungodly hour, it's more than just critical—it's potentially catastrophic.
I shove my arms through the sleeves of my shirt, senses heightening with each passing second. Something in the airtastes like danger, or maybe that's just the remnants of gun oil clinging to my skin.
I look at Hallie, my angel, sleeping peacefully in my bed. She’s everything I thought I could never have, and now that I actually have her, I’ll destroy the world before I let anything happen to her. I leave a kiss on her head, taking a moment to inhale the scent of flowers from her hair.
“Back soon,” I whisper, both an oath and a hope, then step into the shadows that always await me.
The city stretches below, a sprawling network of shadows and secrets, and I'm about to dive headfirst into its darkest depths once more.
The drive to Ares is a blur of streetlights and sharp turns. My mind's already there, dissecting scenarios, preparing for whatever hellfire Cain's about to lay at my feet. Each red light is an unwanted pause, every green one, a silent blessing urging me on through the sleeping chaos of Alcott.
When I pull up to our nondescript fortress, the sky is just beginning to bruise with the first hints of dawn. This building, with its fortified walls and veiled threats, stands as a testament to the life I've chosen—or perhaps the life that chose me. I take the elevator, cursing its slow pace, but knowing it would be faster than climbing thirty flights of stairs.
Cain's waiting when the doors slide open, his blue eyes sharp like ice chips, hair tousled from running hands through it too many times. He's a storm personified, calm before the inevitable devastation.
“Let's hear it,” I say, steeling myself for the impact of his words.
“Inside,” he replies, turning on his heel. And I follow, because when the war comes to your doorstep, you don't turn away—you stand and fight.
Once we get to his station, he sits and presses a key, making his laptop, and the big screens on the wall, come to life.
“What’s going on?
