Текст книги "Back To Back"

Автор книги: Chelsea M. Cameron

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

 

Nineteen

 

The next three days are the same. I go to class and come home and Sylas is on the couch. He’s always wearing sweats and he’s always watching television. We talk, but it’s not the same as it once was. I try to ask him about what he’s going to do, but he just brushes me off, or starts taking my clothes off. He’s very good at using sex to distract me.

I haven’t heard from Dad, and I’m too afraid to call him. I know he’ll contact me when he’s gotten the job done. I’m not looking forward to sharing that particular bit of information with Sylas.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask for the thousandth time on Friday as I’m getting ready for drinks with Lo. Sylas is currently on the couch and eating popcorn out of a bowl that’s balanced on his stomach. I get a glimpse of the man he might be in twenty years if he continues the same pattern he’s currently in. Except he’d probably be more overweight and have a bald patch on his head. He’d still be sexy as hell and I’d still want to fuck him every single second of every single day.

“Yes, I can be alone in the apartment without you, Saige. I’ll be fine. Leo and I are going to watch the game.” I have no idea what sport he’s even talking about and I’m running late so I just give him a quick kiss that’s buttery and salty before I head out the door.

I take a cab to the bar so I don’t have to worry about driving home. Lo is already there and has a drink in her hand when I rush in. She’s got a dress on that makes her legs look like they’re longer than I am tall.

“Hey, sorry, sorry,” I say as she glares. Lo hates being late. Hates. It.

“What’s the excuse?” she asks.

“Boy stuff,” I say. It’s not a total lie. Sylas and I had a little session when I got home and I had to rush to shower and dry my hair afterwards.

“Details,” she says, motioning to the bartender to bring another dirty martini for me. It’s nice having a tall friend since she never gets ignored and always gets served right away.

I roll my eyes.

“Well, he sort of lost his job, so he’s… directionless.” That’s a good way to put it. “He’s just sort of moping around the house and I wish I could do something to fix it, but he’s got to want to fix it. It’s just so frustrating.” The drink arrives and I have to fight the urge to down the entire thing in one go.

“Ugh, that’s the worst. Men aren’t good at being useless. I think it goes back to the caveman days when they had to go out and hunt and be providers. Only now they go out and trade stocks or fix cars or whatever.” She’s absolutely right. One of the things I love about Lo is how smart she is, and how she’s not afraid to show it.

“I know, I know. He’ll get through it, things are just a little weird right now. But how are you?” I’d rather focus on someone else’s life for a while. Lo takes me on a long trip through the Saga of Tadd. She’s had this thing going with a guy she met at a bar a year ago and I’ve been privy to all the most intimate details. Whether I wanted to know them or not. My opinion, that no one named Tadd is worth her time, is lost because apparently Tadd is gifted in the dick department and knows how to use it.

“If he didn’t make me come, like, ten times in one night I’d be able to ditch him,” she says, the volume of her voice much too loud for the subject matter. She gets a look from a guy sitting at the next table and just gives him her patented glare that would freeze boiling water. He quickly becomes interested in his beer bottle.

“So anyway, he calls me and I think he’s going to ask me out, but it turned out it was just a booty call. And then I find out that he’s been dating this other girl and called me to bang right after he dropped her off.” She drains her martini glass and pouts.

“Why are the worst guys for you always the best at getting you off?”

“No idea,” I say, nursing my own drink. The temptation to go wild and get blasted is totally there, but I’d rather not show up back at home stumbling drunk. Not that Sylas would care.

“I’m getting another, you want?” I shake my head and she goes off to get another drink. In addition to the long legs, she also has a high alcohol tolerance and can still walk straight even if she’s blitzed.

My phone rings and I cringe when I see that it’s Dad. There’s only one reason he’s calling. Lo arrives back with her drink and I say that I’m going outside to take a call. I move away from the front of the door so I can hear him and have a little privacy.

“Dad?” I say.

“It’s done,” he says, his voice totally cold. The martinis start churning in my stomach and I think I’m going to throw up.

“Did it go well?” I ask, my voice sounding like it doesn’t belong to me.

“Yes, fine. I’ll be home tomorrow and we can discuss details in person. Goodbye, Saige.” He hangs up and I nearly collapse on the ground. Now I know what happens to Sylas when he has his episodes. My chest feels like it has something pressed on it and I can’t seem to take a deep breath. I tell myself the same things I tell Sylas and start breathing slow and even. The horrible feeling passes and I’m able to unstick my feet from the sidewalk and go back into the bar.

“What’s wrong?” I couldn’t hide what’s going on from Lo if I tried.

“I have to go. Something came up and I have to go take care of it. I’m fine, I promise. I’ll call you later.”  I try to walk away from her, but she snags my arm and I’d have to really hurt her to get her to let go.

“No. You are you going to tell me what’s up. Something has you spooked. What’s wrong?” I know she’s only doing it because she loves me, but I don’t need this right now. I need to get home to Sylas. I need to figure out some way to tell him that his father is dead once and for all.

“Look, it’s something with my dad, okay? I can’t talk about it right now,” I pull against her and her eyes widen. I may be small, but I’m a lot stronger than I look. I like to think if myself as compact, and not short.

“I swear to God, Lo. This is not time for you to be a nosy friend. Drop. It.” I don’t really care if she’s pissed at me. There have been many other times that I’ve had instances where I had to lie to her. But I was a lot better at it.

“Come on,” she says, and I shake my head. She looks around and then tows me outside. The only way to get free would be to make a scene and I don’t want to do that.

Lo pulls me out of the bar and down into an alley. What is it with me and alleys? She finally lets go.

“Look, I know you have a secret life, Saige. I’m not an idiot. I know you have things you can tell me, but something has you upset and it has me scared. I really do worry about you. You’re my best friend and I love you.” I’ve never seen Lo this way. So serious.

“I’m not going to ask you to tell me because if you could, you would have.” That’s true. And it’s not even that I can’t tell her. My secret life isn’t mine to tell. If I told her about me, I’d have to tell her about Dad and that’s definitely not going to happen.

“I need to go, Lo. I’m not in danger, I promise. It’s not me.” She searches my eyes and I can tell she’s searching for the lies. “I’ll call you later, I promise.”

“You’d better. Let me get you a cab.” She steps out and back onto the sidewalk and raises her arm. Yet another reason Lo is a good friend to have is that she can get a cab faster than you can say “taxi”.

Before I get in, she leans down and gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“I worry about you.”

“I know,” I say, hugging her back. “I know. I love you.”

“Love you too. Be safe.” I get in the cab and wave goodbye.

The ride back to my apartment takes forever and no time at all. I want to get there and I don’t because the minute I get there, I’m going to have to tell Sylas. He’s going to know that something is up the minute I walk in.

I open the door and find him on the couch again.

“You’re back early,” he says, sitting up. He looks a little concerned, but then he sees my face.

“What is it?” The color drains from his cheeks and I know he knows without me having to say it. I put my bag down and go to him. I pray for a steady voice and the strength to do this.

“Dad called,” I say and he freezes.

“He’s dead,” he says in a robotic voice. He’s detached and I worry about him having another episode.

“Yes,” I say, confirming it. “I don’t have any other details, but he’s going to be coming back tomorrow and if you want, we can go to the house and get all the details. All I know is that it’s done.”

He’s not crying. He’s barely breathing. He’s not moving.

“Talk to me. You need to talk to me, Sylas.” I put both hands on his shoulders.

“It’s done,” he says.

“Yes. It’s done. He’s dead and you never have to think of him again. It’s over.” I want this to be happy news for him. Freeing news.

“It’s over,” he repeats.

“That’s right.”

He breathes for a little bit longer and I wait.

“Okay then,” he says and then gets to his feet. “How was drinks with Lo?”

What? That’s it?

“It was fine,” I say, warily as he goes to the kitchen and comes back with a glass of water. “Are you okay?”

He grips the glass and I’m afraid it’s going to shatter.

“Saige, if you ask me that one more time, I’m going to break something.” He glares at me and sits back down. There are stains on his sweatpants and they’re definitely the same ones he was wearing yesterday.

“Come on,” I say, holding my hand out. “Come with me.”

He looks up at me as if I’ve lost my mind.

“No.”

“Yes. Come with me Sylas,” I say, making my voice a little softer.

He looks up at me and I can see he’s on the verge of breaking again. But he puts his hand in mine and gets to his feet again.

“Let’s go.”

I should probably have let him change out of his nasty sweats, but I want to get him out of the apartment. He needs to get out of this cave he’s locked himself in. We both need to get out.

Sylas gets in the car and buckles his seatbelt without me having to ask him to do it.

“Where are we going?” he asks.

“It’s a surprise,” I say, turning the radio on. “You can pick the station if you want.” He flips around and finally lands on the classic rock station that was on when I turned on the radio. Figures. We’re both creatures of habit when it comes to music.

“Why are we at my apartment?” he asks as I pull into an empty space just down the street from his old apartment. I think of it as his old apartment, because he’s been staying with me. We never officially declared that we were moving in together, but we basically have been.

I turn the car off and then get out. I meet him on the other side of the car and take his hand.

“Let’s go for a walk.” I tug him away from the front of the building and toward the private garden down the street. I know he comes here when he needs to think. It’s like his sanctuary and it seems like the place where he’d be the most calm.

We stop in front of the gate and he realizes what we’re doing. The tiniest of smiles makes his lips twitch.

“How did you know?” he says in a voice so quiet, it’s almost carried away by the breeze.

“Because I love you,” I say, and start pulling myself up. The people who designed the fence made it easy as hell to climb. There are foothold and places to grip everywhere in the form of decorative leaves and vines. I get to the top and look down. He’s watching me.

“You coming?”

“Right behind you,” he says and I drop down to the other side. Moments later he drops and then stands up.

The sun is just setting, bathing the garden in fiery light. The leaves on the trees are lit up and sparkling as the wind moves them.

“Take your shoes off,” he says, leaning down to take off the sneakers he slipped on before we left the house. I’ve still got my heels on from going out with Lo, and I’m more than happy to slip them off. Like at the beach, we stash them near the gate and continue walking barefoot. The grass is cool and makes me shiver.

“You need to talk to someone, Sylas. You really do. You haven’t been living lately,” I say. He sighs and looks up at the sky that’s painted with so many different colors.

“I know. I don’t know what to do with my life anymore. I feel like I’m starting over and that scares me. I’m so fucking scared, Saige.” His words break my heart, but I’m so glad he’s talking to me. So glad he’s not hiding anymore. That he trusts me enough to share these things.

“You can do whatever you want, Sylas. Whatever you want and I’ll support you. If you want to sit around and paint clouds, if you want to flip burgers, if you want to restore vintage bicycles. I don’t care. The world is your oyster, to use a cliché.” He’s got an opportunity, but it’s a terrifying one.

He chuckles a little at my suggestions.

“It’s not that simple. I have the guys. I can’t abandon them, not now especially. Your father has something on all of us that he’s using to keep them working for him.” I know that and it doesn’t make me happy.

“I know. I would love to say I could talk to him and convince him to let it go, but that’s not going to happen. My father is a determined man, and he gets what he wants.” I love him, more than anything, but I don’t always like the things he does.

“I know.”

“What does he have on you?” I ask. I assume it’s something he’s already told me, but I’m not sure what.

“He says he’ll take Lizzy away from me,” he says after a pause.

“No, he wouldn’t do that.” In all the times my father and I talked about Lizzy, it had always been with the assumption of Sylas being involved. He just wanted the chance to get to know her. Not take her from the only family she’s ever known. He never said that. Ever.

“Yes, Saige. He would. I know you love him, but he’s done a lot of things that you don’t know about.” I stop walking and stare at him.

“What are you talking about?” I know there are things Dad hasn’t told me about, but I didn’t know he’d shared them with Sylas. Or that Sylas knew about them.

“Nothing,” he says, closing his eyes. “Nothing.”

“No way. You don’t tease me with information like that and then back off. That’s not fair, Sylas.” He tugs me toward a bench and we sit down. I’ve never seen anyone else in this garden and I wonder how many of the residents of the surrounding buildings actually utilize it.

“I just know some things, Saige. Some of the people he’s killed.” This is not news to me. I know Dad has killed people. He turns to face me, taking both of my hands. It seems like one of us is always holding the other up.

“They weren’t all bad. But some were innocents that had information that he needed. He… he tortured some of them, Saige. He did bad things to get what he wanted.” A block of ice enters my stomach and I want to ask if this is a joke. Or a dream. Or some figment of my imagination. My dad wouldn’t kill innocent people.

And then I want to smack myself for being so incredibly naïve. Of course I think the best of my father. That’s why he hasn’t told me about the people he’s killed. It lets me make up my own conclusions and paint him in the best light in my mind. Make him a hero. He let me do it.

“I wish I wasn’t the one to shatter your vision of him. I hate that I’m hurting you right now.” I swallow and look down at our linked hands. His, rough and big, with thick knuckles and short nails. Mine, thin and short with chipped black polish on my nails and little bits of charcoal left over from my class.

“It’s okay. It’s my own fault. I should have known. I should have known.” I want to smack myself. How could I let myself be so stupid?

“I don’t want to know anything else,” I say. “I don’t want to know anything else about him.” I’ll deal with my father on my own terms. Or not. I have to admit, there’s an allure to just forgetting what Sylas just said and going forward. Not mentioning it again. Just pretending.

I don’t know.

“We are so fucked up, you and I,” I say and he laughs.

“But together, we’re somehow not.”

 

Twenty

 

We sit on the bench for what feels like hours. Until night drapes over us like a blanket and the stars come out. We’re in the city, so you can barely see them with all the light pollution, but still. You know they’re there in the sky.

“I thought I was going to feel different, but maybe it’s because I thought he was dead all those years,” he says after a long silence.

“How do you feel?” I ask.

“I feel like this is happening to someone else. That I’m an actor in my own life. I’m used to playing someone else. Being myself isn’t easy.” I know how he feels. I think it’s one of the reasons we work so well together as a couple. If I was just a regular girl, with a regular past, he’d always be hiding his other life and eventually it would break the relationship apart.

“I know what you mean,” I say and I lean toward him. He puts his arm around me and I bring my feet up on the bench.

“I told Lo I was going to call her. She saw my face after I talked to Dad. She didn’t ask me for the details, but she definitely knows I have things that I don’t tell her.” Things that I can’t tell her.

“She’s smart, that Lo,” he says, his fingers playing with my hair.

“I know. I should have known she’d figure it out. I’m a good liar, but Lo is good at spotting lies.” Whenever there’s a celebrity scandal, she always says she knew all along. I ask her how she knows and she just says she gets a feeling. That always makes me roll my eyes at her.

“But she didn’t demand that I tell her and I hope she won’t. I think she was worried I was involved in criminal activity and my body was going to show up in a ditch somewhere or something.” I’m sure she went to the worst-case scenario first.

“You could tell her. At least some of it.” I shake my head.

“No, I really can’t. Because then I’d have to tell her about Dad and that’s not going to happen.” There’s no way out of it without hurting someone.

“Are you going to come with me to talk to my dad tomorrow?” I ask. I hate to bring him up. He’s always going to be a hard subject for us. Especially now that I know he wants to take Lizzy away from Sylas. We are definitely going to have a chat about that. I’m not going to let that slide. No fucking way.

The storm seems to have passed for the moment.

“Your pants are disgusting,” I say, pointing to a spot of grease on them.

“I know. I just didn’t have the energy to put new ones on or do any laundry,” he says.

“I’ll do a wash when we get back, but not until after you’ve taken a shower.” I sniff him and plug my nose. Sylas never smells bad, even when he’s covered in sweat. He always smells good to me.

“Sure, I’ll take a shower, as long as you join me.” Fair enough. That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.

We have fun getting clean and I force Sylas to put on another thin white t-shirt and a clean pair of sweats. I’ve been neglecting my own laundry, so I do three loads in the little washer hidden inside a closet right outside my bedroom.

“I like the way you look in that shirt, yes I do,” I say as he hands me the bowl of popcorn. It’s another movie night. We’re putting quite a dent in our digital movie queue. I don’t mind staying at home and watching movies with him. I like doing everything with Sylas. But I think we need to start getting out more. Tonight was definitely proof of that.

“You want to come to the gym with me this weekend? I really need to start working out again.” I used to just go to my parents’ house and use theirs, but I don’t want to be in that house as much anymore.

“Sure. There’s a gym in the building where my other apartment is, if you want to use that one. It’s private and quiet and top of the line.”

“Sounds good,” I say as he settles back on the couch and I lay out lengthwise on top of him.

I pictured this going completely differently than it has, but at least it’s been a pleasant surprise.

My phone rings and I realize I never called Lo. Shit. She’s probably going to read me the riot act.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. Things are fine. I was just… tired and I forgot to call you back,” I say in a rush. She sighs.

“I swear, you’re giving me grey hairs over here, Saige. Grey fucking hairs that I’m going to have to dye.” She’s being melodramatic, as usual, but at least I know she wasn’t worrying too much.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Things turned out fine, actually. False alarm. All is well.” I sit up and smile at Sylas. He brushes my hair over my shoulder and I can barely stand the way he looks at me. I’ve always wanted someone to look at me like he does, and sometimes, it’s too much. Too much to handle, too much responsibility, too much love, if that’s possible.

“Are you absolutely sure?” she says.

“Yes. I'm fine. I’m really sorry I freaked you out. I can’t really give you details and I’m sorry. My life… it’s a long story and my secrets don’t just belong to me. If I told you everything, I’d be hurting other people.” Sylas just watches me as I talk to Lo and I know he understands. It’s why he hadn’t made any deep connections with people before me. And I guess we sort of tricked each other into love.

“What’s so funny?” Lo says.

“Nothing. My mind was just wandering. Listen, I want to have a redo on tonight. I have tests all next week, but I’m free on Friday afternoon and I’ll be all yours. We could go shoe shopping and have dinner. How does that sound?”

“Good deal. Just as long as there are no crises that come up.”

“No promises, but I’ll see what I can do.” I can tell she’s smiling and I’m forgiven.

“I’d really love to know what your secrets are, Saige, but I’m not going to force you to tell me. I’ll love you even if you have to hide things from me.” There aren’t a lot of people who would be willing to do that, and I’m lucky we decided to be friends.

“Thank you, Lo. That means so much. You have no idea.”

“I know. I’m a wonderful friend. You’re very lucky to have me.” I laugh.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I end the call and shake my head.

“Everything good?” Sylas asks.

“Yeah. I’m lucky she’s so cool with everything.” I set the phone on the coffee table and lay back down across him.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have friends on the outside. I never thought it could work. You’d always have that guilt for not telling them.”

“I do have guilt, but I can live with it. If I was hiding my life from you, that would be something else entirely. I don’t think I could do it.” I definitely know I couldn’t do it in that case.

“I know. In a way I’m glad you’re not who I thought you were. Things turned out good, in the end.” I smile and kiss the spot right where his heart beats beneath skin and bone and muscle.

“Fate,” I say.

He scoffs.

“Luck.”

We’re going to have to agree to disagree on that.

I’m ripped awake by Sylas shaking my shoulder.

“Saige! Saige! Wake up, it’s okay.” My eyes fly open. I’m gasping for air and my cheeks are wet with tears. Another nightmare.

“I’m okay,” I say, putting my hand on my chest where my heart is racing so fast, it’s like I’ve been running for my life.

“Do you remember anything?” Sylas says, pulling my sweaty body into his warm one. It helps ground me and suck me out of the terror of the nightmare.

I’m about to say no, but then there’s a quick flash. Something… I reach for it and pull out of the back of my head. It’s like trying to hold onto a wiggling, slippery thing. The harder I hold onto it, the more it struggles to get away. Just a little… there. THERE.

“Dark. It’s… dark. The trunk of a car?” I only see a dark enclosed space, but somehow I know it’s the trunk of a car.

“Were you trapped in the trunk of a car?” he asks but the nightmare skitters apart and is gone. But it’s more than I’ve remembered, ever. It’s a start. If I got that, maybe I can get more.

“I don’t… know. Maybe? I just know I was in one.” I feel like I should write this down so I don’t forget it.

Sylas brushes my sweaty hair out of my face. I need to change my clothes since my shirt and shorts are soaked with sweat.

“I’ll be right back,” I say and grab some clothes before going to the bathroom and using a washcloth to wipe myself down before I get dressed again. I wash my face and wince at the blotchiness in my cheeks. I hate crying. After I splash some cold water on my face, I go and get back into bed with Sylas. He holds me tight, as if to protect me from diving into the nightmare again. As if he has the power to do that.

“I’m okay,” I say as I close my eyes and attempt to sleep again.

I don’t know what time Dad is getting home from Texas, but I figure if I’m there when he gets back, he can’t avoid talking to me. Sylas and I are silent and grim when we get ready to head over in the morning.

I put in my septum ring and flip it down, just in case I see my mother. Riling her up will make me feel better.

“If you’re trying to distract me, then it’s working,” Sylas says, reaching out a finger and tapping my septum ring gently. For some reason I always feel more myself when I have this bit of metal in my nose.

“That wasn’t my intention, but I guess it’s a side benefit,” I say. “I’m hoping I see my mother and she sees it. I know it’s juvenile to bait her like this, but I can’t seem to stop.” If I didn’t rile her up, she might not even notice me. In some deep part of my brain, I know even negative attention from my mother is good. Maybe I should sign myself up for therapy too.

Sylas hasn’t talked about it further, but I’m definitely going to push him to do it. I know it will be good for him. Maybe if I offer to go with him that will make him more inclined to go. Hell, I’d trade sexual favors for therapy sessions. I’m not above doing that.

“Ready?” I say as he fiddles with the sleeves on his t-shirt. I’m not going to point out that he’s exposing his tattoos today. I’m not sure if he’s even aware anymore he’s doing it.

“Sure,” he says, taking a deep breath and then smiling at me.

“If you need to leave, or feel yourself getting panicky, let me know and I’ll get you out of there, okay?” I say, putting my arms around his waist and looking up at him.

“Will do,” he says, and I tilt my face up for a kiss.

Dad isn’t back when we get to the house, but my mother is lazing in the den when I walk in the door.

“Saige, I didn’t know you were coming over. You should have called,” she says, not getting up or putting down her wineglass. She’s probably going to be passed out in less than an hour.

I give Sylas a face and walk into the room.

“I’m here to see Dad. Well, both of us are,” I say and she looks up and sees Sylas. Her eyes zero in on his tattoos and then on my nose, going back and forth and back and forth, her eyes getting wider and wider. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying the change in expression.

She sputters and then turns away and back to her wine.

“I’m not going to talk to you with that thing in your face. Go take it out and then we can chat.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to do that,” I say, smirking. “Nice try, though.” I turn on my heel and leave the room, Sylas trailing after me. He doesn’t look embarrassed at all, which I absolutely love.

“You really know how to push her buttons,” he says.

“Hey, you’re the one who wore short sleeves,” I say, pointing it out. He looks down.

“I guess I just forgot,” he says and I can tell he’s being truthful. He’s getting more and more comfortable being himself. That makes me so happy.

“Come on, let’s hang out in the office and wait.” I can bring up the surveillance cameras and we can watch for when he pulls in the driveway. Sylas nods and follows me.

It’s a quick job to get the footage up and running.

“Do you have this all over the house?” he asks, looking over my shoulder.

“Yes. Well, except for the bedrooms. I do not need to see any video of my parents in bed.” Not that they do anything. I’m pretty sure they only had sex once, and that was to produce me.

“That’s probably wise,” he says as I flick through the other cameras in the house. Mom’s still sipping her wine and staring off into space.

Now we wait.

An hour later, I’m up and pacing the room. Sylas is sitting in Dad’s chair, flipping through the surveillance cameras.

“He’s here,” he says. I take a breath.

“Are you ready?”

He shakes his head.

“No, but I don’t think I’ll ever be. I just want this to be done.” I want that for him too, but I don’t think it will ever be done. You don’t get over something like this. You just learn how to live with it.

We’re out of the office and heading for the front door when Dad walks in.

I nearly gasp.

It hasn’t been that long since I saw him last and he looks like he’s aged ten years. He’s thin and haggard and stooped, like his back is hurting.

“Dad?” I say and he looks up. Dark circles are carved under his eyes, so blue against his skin.

“Saige,” he says, blinking at me. He drops his suitcase and Mom comes out to give him a cold kiss on the cheek and pretend she gives a shit that he’s home. They share a whispered conversation and she takes his bag and starts going upstairs. I know it’s a dummy bag. The real stuff he brought with him, weapons and so forth, are still in the car and will be put back in their hidden places within the house my mother doesn’t know about.

Martha bustles out, asking him he needs tea or food or anything.

“No, thank you. I just need to go to my office,” he says, giving her a weak smile.

Sylas is rigid beside me. His eyes haven’t left Dad’s face, but Dad can’t seem to look at Sylas. Martha heads back to the kitchen to make a tray of food and drinks anyway. Dad sighs.

“Let’s go to my office and I’ll debrief you,” he says wearily. I let him lead the way and every step he takes looks like it hurts him. What has he been through?

He crashes into his office chair and then rests his head in his hands as if his neck is too tired to hold it up anymore.

I lock the door and sit down on one of the leather chairs. Sylas takes the other and we wait for him to start. Silence is thick in the room, clogging my lungs. Sylas is breathing heavily next to me.

“Is he dead,” he says, and it’s not a question. It’s a demand.

Dad lifts his head.

“Yes. He’s dead.” He pulls something out of his pocket and tosses it at Sylas. It’s a tiny flash drive. “That has pictures. We got him with the long-range and then went in and got the body. It’s been disposed of.” He doesn’t elaborate on the method of disposal, but I know he’s got people working for him who know how to hide a body and make sure it’s never found. They’ve done it before and they can do it again without blinking.