Page 89 of Stupid Dirty

I don’t know what I’m expecting to find when I get to the pin that Silas dropped for me. I assumed he must have had an insane fight with his dad to leave him literally on the side of the highway, so when I finally see him and he’s not bloody or bruised, relief flows through me. Throwing the truck onto the shoulder, my first instinct is to dive out of it and run towards him.

Something stops me. I climb out of the cab slowly, watching Silas as he stands up and waits for me to move closer. He seems so small out here by himself with just a couple of bags, surrounded by endless, stretching nothingness. His eyes arewarm as he takes me in, but he doesn’t say anything or move closer.

It’s not too late for the rug to be pulled out from under me again. Life has taught me that, and it makes me cautious as I approach.

“Are you okay? Where’s Travis?”

Silas sniffs. When I come to a stop a few feet away from him, he leans back, wrapping his arms around himself like he’s cold, despite the midday heat.

“He’s gone,” Silas says. “I told him to go. You were right; I didn’t want to leave. Cade, I’m so sor—”

He takes a step towards me with his hand outstretched, but I move out of reach. Now it’s my turn to wrap my arms around myself, until we look like two little kids, huddled into ourselves, staring across the three feet of air between us that feels like it’s as wide as the Grand Canyon.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I try to figure out what it is that I want to say to him.

“You’re staying? For real?”

He nods. “For real. Even if you can’t forgive me for running away, I’ll still be here.”

My heart breaks a little, watching him stand there all alone, apologizing to me for something that he should never have had to deal with in the first place. It’s enough to shut down the last of my defenses and make me close the distance between us.

“Fuck, baby, I’m not mad,” I say, wrapping my arms around him. He stays rigid for a few seconds and then melts into my chest with a tremor as I talk. “It’s not your fault. I was never mad; I was just hurt and scared for you.”

He nods, his face smushed into my chest, as his arms snake around my waist and squeeze. “I’m sorry anyway,” he says, although it’s muffled by my shirt.

Pulling back enough to look him in the eye, I take his face in my hands and hold him steady. I try to pour the sensation of how much I love him into his skin, whether he feels it or not. I want to say the words as well, but they stick in my throat. Everything feels too raw and open, standing here on the side of the road.

“Let’s go home,” I say.

He nods, looking exhausted, and follows me like a shadow as I lead him to the truck.

We head for Possum Hollow, and I keep Silas’ fingers laced with mine in between us for the entire drive. I want to ask him more about what happened, but I don’t know where to start. I keep expecting him to speak, but he never does. Instead, he leans against the window and stares at the countryside, slowly retreating into himself in the way that I’ve come to fear so much.

My mind spins through every possibility. I don’t really care what happened between him and Travis, as long as Travis is gone. What I care about is where his head is at, and whether the blankness I’ve seen consume him over the past few days is about to get better or worse.

Worst-case scenarios present themselves in vivid technicolor in my head, no matter what I try to focus on. Letting Travis take Silas away from me was hard enough. The thought of actually having Silas—getting to love him the way I want and still watching him slip through my fingers because of something in his own mind—is fucking terrifying.

I don’t know if it’s something I could come back from.

With one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Silas’, the only part of me that’s free to fidget is my brain. And it goes wild. When we hit the edge of town, my lungs feel heavy and there’s a steady panic creeping through my veins.

I take us to his house instead of the trailer. Whatever this conversation is about to turn into, we don’t need an audience for it.

By the time I pull into the driveway and kill the engine, Silas looks half-asleep. I feel like I’m about to tear into little pieces and scatter myself over the driveway like anxiety confetti. He reaches to open the passenger door, but I pull him towards me.

“Silas, I meant it when I said you are the best thing in my life. I…” My tongue struggles to get the words out as I feel raw and vulnerable, but I push through. “I love you so much it scares me. You scare me sometimes. I’m all in, but you have to tell me what we’re up against. This thing…” I cast around for the right word while Silas stares at me. “This depression. Did you get it from your mom? Is it because of how your dad treats you? I’m here, no matter what, but right now I’m so fucking scared imagining the worst possible things. I need you to tell me anything you can so I know what to watch out for.”

I’m panting, because all the pent-up anxiety from the last hour has just poured into the space between us like a poison fog. Silas didn’t flinch or react to the words, though. Maybe he was expecting it.

Eventually, he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze and answers.

“Before I got out of the truck today, Dad was rambling. He’s been kind of a mess since he stopped drinking so suddenly, and he was saying so much shit, it was hard to pick out what he meant by all of it. You were right, by the way, he was trying to cheat when they found the fuel additives that caused my suspension.”

I’m too distracted to gloat, but I definitely knew it.

“He said, ‘I refuse to pull you out of a blood-filled bathtub’. It was part of the twisted justification for all his bullshit, but it stood out to me. So much of what he was saying came back to his obsession with the idea that I was just like Mom, and unless he kept me constantly distracted with work, I would end up killing myself. I never really thought about it before, but that’s a lot ofparanoia to carry around for twenty years. I always figured he brushed it off so easily because he didn’t care, but maybe I didn’t look hard enough. Everything he saw must have stuck with him.”

Silas looks unnaturally calm as he says it, but all he’s doing is making me more anxious. I have tried so hard not to pry, but if this is really going to beourlife from now on, I have to know.

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