Chapter 17
SILAS
“Sy?”
I can’t breathe.
“Silas?”
Breathe, dammit.
Everything is going black around the edges as Edison swims in front of me, puts his hands on my shoulders. We snarl at one another, reflexive.
It’s been years since we’ve interacted physically.
“Silas, can you hear me?” He shakes me, hard. “Breathe, Sy.”
I startle and suck in air. Sharp. As if I’ve just surfaced from a great depth.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I growl and pull away from him, the energy shift instantaneous.
Edison releases me, keeping his hands up in the surrender position, stepping backward. I gulp another lungful of air.
Mav and Odd appear at Edison’s shoulders. Odd cocks his head at me, curious. Maverick. Sweet Maverick looks…concerned. Afraid.
H and H come in from the sides.
Holmes, an interesting kind of predator, takes his spot in front of me.
“You okay?”
I look around him. Everything that appeared dark isn’t. We’re under fluorescent lights. It’s a small warehouse full of cribs. Bassinets. Incubators.
Dozens.
Filled with babies.
I’m standing right next to one. I look down. A baby with black eyes grins as drool makes its way down its chin.
I blink. Its grin turns evil.
The world starts going dark at the edges again.
“Silas?” A familiar voice in my ear.
“Silas, it’s me. Oakley.”
I gasp, still searching for oxygen. “Oakley.”
“Silas, are you going to do as I say?” he asks in that comfortingly dark tone.
Thank God.
“Yes. I’ll do anything you tell me to.”
“Good. I want you to breathe.”
I inhale.
I exhale.
“Again.”
I obey.
“One more.”
I take another deep breath and release a long exhale. “I’m breathing now,” I say, too afraid to look at the crib next to me. “The babies, Oak. They’re like me.”
Edison, still uncomfortably close, touches his fingers to his ear. He looks down at the crib.
“Scratch that.” Edison’s voice echoes in two places. Here and crackling over the comms. “There are zero babies in these cribs. Silas might be…” He lets out a controlled breath. “Hallucinating.”
I shake my head, gesturing to the crib. “How can I be hal—”
Oh.
It’s empty.
They’re all empty.
“Get him the fuck out of there,” Oakley says. His voice is calm. Steady. But he’s put that authority in his voice, and the others snap to attention.
Honoré shifts on his feet.
“Can you come with us? We want to get you out of this room,” he says, his Afro-French accent familiar. He’s a Wildling. I can trust him.
I nod. He and Holmes flank me, each winding an arm around my elbow. It feels supportive, but if I struggled, they’d be able to control me.
Not really, but I won’t harm them.
“Can you double-check?” I ask, not trusting myself. “No babies, right?”
“I looked,” Holmes says. “No babies. Your mind took you back to that place you were rescued from. But you are here. With us.”
He’s using his steady voice that he puts on, the one no one else has clocked. Maybe Honoré. I don’t think Holmes cares much about anyone outside of our family.
I’m lucky. I guess.
Honoré touches his ear, then says to me, “Oakley’s gonna walk you through this on a secure channel.”
“Okay.”
“Darling?” Oakley’s voice crackles in my ear. “I’m in my office now. Can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
My lungs release a little more, and I breathe easier.
“Sweetheart, you’re safe. You’re with family.”
“There aren’t any babies?” I shake my head. “We’re sure?”
“We’re sure.”
“Am I…?” My cheeks are wet. Tears, I realize. “Am I going crazy?”
“No, sweetheart. You had a flashback.”
“I’ve never had one of those before.” I sniffle. “The baby looked so real.”
“I know it did. We’re gonna get you back here, and we’re gonna make sure you’re okay.”
“I need you to take over, Oak. No lights. Just make me stop thinking.”
H and H share a look. I grimace. They might not be able to hear Oakley, but they can definitely hear me. That cat might be out of the bag.
Honoré sends me a wink. “You’re okay, Sy.”
Oakley lets out a breath. “I’ll take care of you. But for now, Uncle Anders is going to give you a short-acting sedative. The team has to complete the op before they can fly you home.”
“Okay.”
H and H escort me through the front office. The piles of ash are a welcome sight. Anders comes in from the side, patting his pocket. “I’ve got something for you.”
I nod.
He follows us out to the SUV, has me sit in the back, then makes quick work of the injection.
That’s nice.
The familiar bump of a helicopter landing pulls me out of twilight sleep.
“There you are,” Uncle Anders says, crouched in front of me. “How’re ya feelin’?”
I yawn. “Okay. I think.”
He nods. “You’ll be a little groggy for the next twenty minutes or so, but you’ll be just fine. Let me know if you develop a headache or confusion, okay?”
I bob my head and notice Oakley waiting by the helipad, Cupcake by his side.
“Cupcake!” I wave both hands. “Myyy Oakleeeey.”
“Hey, bud,” Uncle Anders says, patting my arm. “Oak can’t hear you, but everyone in here can. He’s been trying to keep this thing between you two hush-hush. So, you know, be cool.”
“Does everybody know?” I ask, too happy to be worried.
“Pretty much.”
“Ooops.”
Everyone chuckles, but Anders goes a little serious. “I don’t think his dads know though.”
“Thank God.” I shrug. “I love him. I’ll make them see that.”
Everyone goes quiet.
I may be a little high on whatever it is Anders gave me, but I can tell when people don’t quite believe me. They don’t get it. I do love Oakley, and I will make them see.
Anders and Odd help me to my feet, then out of the helicopter. Oakley is careful as he approaches us, but Cupcake barrels forward and nudges my leg.
I lower my hand, and she licks it a few times.
“Good girl. I’m okay.”
She whines and gives me a few more licks, then leans against my leg. I pet her head and scratch behind her ears, my signal that I’m truly okay. Oakley is standing off to the side, but I’m not waiting for privacy.
I walk up to him and throw my arms around his thick waist.
“That sucked,” I say to his broad chest.
“Yeah, it did.”
I finally release him and lean against his side. The entire team is there, shuffling their feet, avoiding our eyes.
“Anders says everyone knows already.”
“Yeah, I picked up on that too. Are you okay?”
“I could use some coffee.”
I perk up after two cups of Miss Odeal’s New Orleans blend. Cupcake and I follow Oakley into the situation room, where he and Hedy lead the debrief.
Oakley listens carefully as we talk through the operation, then asks a few follow-up questions, just to check in. The guys seem to appreciate being able to talk things over with him, even though we’re still new to interacting with him in a professional capacity.
He also offers to explain to the team what happened to me and what to do if it ever happens again. I give him permission, and he asks me to leave briefly so he can show them the operational footage from my rescue.
I’ve seen it. I don’t need to see it again.
I sit in the hallway with Cupcake’s head in my lap while they watch the video. Hedy’s friend Indaja walks by.
“I heard you had a tough time on this one.”
I nod and stroke Cupcake’s head. “Team had my back.”
“Want a little energetic work?”
Indaja’s a Reiki master or something. I don’t know about all of that, but I always feel better after. I stand and close my eyes while she does her thing.
By the time Oakley’s ready for me, Indaja has once again reset my chi or whatever. I feel more balanced than I have in a while.
“Thanks, Daj.”
She pats my cheek. “You’re welcome, doll.”
Oak brings me back in and, with my go-ahead, explains that I have PTSD, and that he believes, based on the operational notes from my rescue that what I experienced was a flashback. An actual memory, not a hallucination.
“Is the PTSD new?” I ask.
“No…” Oakley answers, looking to Hedy.
She shrugs. “We’ve all got PTSD.”
Everyone kinda snorts like it’s no big deal, but Oakley’s mouth tightens.
He won’t contradict Hedy in front of the others, but over the last month, he’s admitted that he’s navigating a tricky situation with her.
She’s got decades of operational experience that he respects, and he’s got the clinical chops that she respects.
Next gen problems, I guess.
“If the black-eyed baby thing was a flashback, does that mean we need to be on the lookout for an army of little Silases?” Mav asks.
Hedy turns to Mav. “The operation you just came from was strictly about human trafficking, specifically setting up a baby mill,” she answers.
I have a similar question. “To Mav’s point, if that was a flashback, have I seen a baby like me at some point?”
Oakley shakes his head. “The flashback was probably a memory of your experience of being approached by adults who were terrified of you.”
Hedy addresses the rest of the team. “As for the genetics lab Silas came from, we could find no evidence that any other baby survived the experimentation on them. Our Silas is one of a kind.”
She never mentions the fact that there were other labs. I can’t ever tell if that’s on purpose, if she forgot, or if those labs simply failed at their missions and aren’t worth mentioning.
Still, I flush at Hedy’s description of me. “One of a kind” is often a recipe for a lonely existence. I’m pretty lucky with the people in my life.
Point in fact, as I look around the room, I’m expecting fear. Instead, I see sadness. I hate that my history makes them sad. I’ve worked with some of these guys for years, and they’ve always had my back.
“It’s okay, y’all. Edison and Ant and Erik really took care of me and helped me become who I was always meant to be. I’ll be all right.”
The team gets up—even Holmes—and engulfs me in a group hug.
Score. Cupcake also gets in on the action.
Oakley grabs my hand. “Time to go home.”
In the car, I cover Cupcake’s ears as Oakley tells me that he’s going to need me to clean myself out extra good for what he’s got planned.
Oakley’s fingered me, sounded me, filled me with his cum. Now I’m draped over a sex wedge, my ass in the air while my wrists and ankles are tied to the four corners of the bed.
My balls ache from coming so hard, but my cock is ready to go again.
He spreads my cheeks. I’m leaking, and he reaches for the lube.
Why more lube? I’m already so full of his cum and stretched and—
Oh.
Fuck.
A fat fake cockhead is pushed past the ring of muscle. Slick, irregular. Pretty sure that’s the big teal-and-blue one. The dragon dildo he bought me from that fantasy sex shop.
Ungh. That’s a thick swell.
Fuck, another.
Definitely the dragon one. It stretches me, so perfectly painful. He plays at first, slowly pulling it out and pushing it back in. The bumpy, rubbery, wet sounds are deliciously dirty.
The fucker is taking his sweet time.
Each time he pushes the cock back inside, he goes a little deeper, working me up to its full progressive girth.
“Fuck,” he mutters appreciatively.
I’ve kept my eyes closed, but I wish I could see what he sees.
He slips his slick hand between my body and the wedge, tracing the position of the dildo through my belly.
He grips the dildo’s balls, maybe, and starts fucking me with it again. He whistles through his teeth as he presses into my belly.
“I can feel it move.”
No shit. “So can I.”
“I need to see it,” he says, his voice ragged.
In seconds, my wrists and ankles are freed and I’ve been flipped to my back, the sex wedge tossed to the side.
He adjusts the angle, somehow going that much farther inside me. I groan, and his eyes greedily take in my belly as he gently, carefully slides the dildo out, then pushes it back in.
“How are you taking this? It looks like it could burst through your abdomen.” He brings his brows together. “Is this still feeling good to you?”
Yes. I’m so full.
Used.
His.
I gesture to my stiff cock. “As you can—”
His hand goes to my throat, cutting off my words.
“How about now?”
I nod, gripping his thick arm as I let my head loll back. Another orgasm thunders through me, and he chuckles.
“I love making you dry-fire,” he growls, releasing my neck and leaning in to gently suck my poor, overworked cock.
“Bastard,” I hiss, my throat raw from screaming and being choked.
He slowly, painfully, removes the dildo. Jesus. I can’t believe I fit all that inside me.
“Genius,” I whisper.
He’s gentle as he walks me to the bathroom and cleans up me and our toys.
We get under the covers and he lies on his back, tugging me to his side.
I sleep like the dead.