Chapter 21 #2
She turns back to Ronan. “And what do you think a five-year-old could do to a two-thousand-pound horse?”
“He could bite her. He’d clearly been eating animals. He could have snuck in a knife.”
Indaja turns her attention to Erik. “Talk to me about some of the people Blueberry worked with before she worked with Silas.”
Erik nods.
“We saved her for the trafficked kids.” His eyes track to his husband. “Some were quietly devastated. Others were furious at what the world had allowed to become of them. All of them had endured unimaginable trauma.” He takes Ant’s hand. “Actually, some don’t have to imagine it. They lived it.”
Indaja lets that hang in the air for a moment.
“Had any of those children ever gotten violent with Blueberry?”
Erik grimaces. “Yes. We have a protocol designed to keep both the horse and the child safe, but sometimes a child will surprise you. Blueberry sometimes got bit, kicked, and one time a child got a pen and stabbed her in the flank.”
“Did Blueberry have to be taken out of service after these incidents of violence?”
“No. No. We used those incidents to tighten precautions, but Blue loved working with the kids. And…” He tips his head, letting his beautiful long hair spill forward. He smiles. “I think the most troubled ones were her favorites.”
“What happened to the child who stabbed Blueberry with the pen?”
“He continued to get the help he needed, including sessions with Blueberry.”
“How did you make that happen?”
Ant and Erik exchange a look, amused by the thought that they’d ever had any control over any of it.
“That was all Blue. When we introduced them again, she stayed calm and nuzzled his shoulder, her way of saying she’d forgiven him for losing control.” Erik shakes his head. “He immediately broke down and apologized to her.”
“And where is that little boy now?”
Erik looks to his son, who joins him in a fond smile. “He works at Wild Heart with us. He’s our foreman, in fact. In charge of all the animals.”
Silas drums the table, broadening his smile. “Johnny.”
Indaja focuses on Ant. “How did this compare to Silas’s first meeting with Blueberry?”
Ant, still angry at Ronan’s words, reminds himself why they’re here. He takes a breath.
“I don’t think Sy had ever seen such a large animal before.”
A grin twitches near the corner of his mouth. Erik, too, has the same amused grin.
Ant continues, “You have to understand that we don’t actually know Sy’s age.
We’re guessing five, but he may have been six or seven or eight.
He was severely malnourished when they found him.
Tiny. Short for his age group. Blue was enormous in comparison.
” He pauses, losing himself in the memory.
“You’ll have to ask my son, but I think her size made him feel calm. ”
“Safe,” Silas provides, his voice rough. “Blue was the first soul who ever made me feel safe.”
Ant and Erik take each other’s hands.
“So,” Indaja continues, her voice gentle, “with a highly trained horse, who had a unique understanding of traumatized children, you two demonstrated your trust in Silas in the safest way you could think of.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
Indaja turns to Ronan. “Sy’s early childhood history with animals is disturbing, and it’s not unreasonable to assume he could still be a danger to them. But,” she says, turning back to Ant and Erik, “in all the years you’ve cared for and loved Silas, have you ever seen him harm an animal?”
Erik and Ant shake their heads, resolute.
Indaja raises her brows, making a small gesture toward Cupcake, who is practically wrapped around Silas’s ankles. “Animals know.”
Ronan curses softly under his breath, then nods. The room goes quiet.
“He doesn’t just care for them. He mourns them when they die,” Ant says softly. “Blueberry was already an older horse when Silas became part of our family. When she died, I’m not sure who cried harder, Silas or Johnny.”
“How did you help them process that grief?”
Erik takes this answer. “Johnny had already transferred to a different therapy horse, so we booked extra time for them. But for Sy… We did what we always do.”
Ant looks to the man sitting next to Indaja.
“We called Edison.”
Edison shifts in his seat.
Erik explains, “We knew puberty would be dangerous, and it was. But Edison always showed up for us. Mentoring, instructing. He was there for Silas, but really, he was there for us.”
Ant nods. “And Edison did this knowing that, eventually, their combined modifications would make it difficult to be in the same space at the same time. He made so many sacrifices, knowing this would be the result.”
Erik sniffs loudly. “We could not have done this without him.”
Edison, ever stoic, dips his chin.
Indaja turns to Edison. “How is it working with Silas now?”
“We have to maintain a minimum distance in an operation, but we’ve learned to make it work.”
“What happens if you don’t maintain that minimum distance?”
“It sets off a sort of hormonal cascade that neither of us has control over.” He gestures to the room. “Though the emotion of the day seems to have put a damper on that.”
He checks in with Silas, who nods.
“And what are your thoughts on Silas now? Do you view him as a dangerous person? In your experience, does Silas struggle to control his impulses?”
Edison has never been one to take offense easily. It’s amusing, despite the circumstances, to see him shake off the annoyance and square his shoulders.
“Apologies, Edison,” Indaja says, looking mildly amused. “I didn’t mean to impugn your training.”
Slightly mollified, Edison says, “Thank you. And to answer your question, Silas has proven himself again and again. His control is impeccable.” He taps the table. “I’d have to look at his files, but I don’t believe Silas has experienced a loss of control since he was…seventeen? Maybe eighteen?”
Silas ducks his chin.
“In those moments where Sy did lose control, was anyone ever harmed or killed as a result?”
Edison grimaces, but before anyone can jump to the wrong conclusion, he’s quick to clarify, “Understand that, from the beginning of puberty, killing people was a critical part of his training.”
Even the small, ambient sounds in the room go quiet on those words. Everyone sits with this heavy, immutable fact.
“But even when things went sideways, he never took an unsanctioned life.” Edison huffs out a short laugh. “The only person he ever really took a swipe at was me, and as everyone in this room knows, I can take it.”
“So he never harmed a child? An animal?”
“No. As soon as he understood there was a better way, he did everything he could to be…” Edison sighs. “Good.”
His voice breaks on that last word. Ronan shifts in his seat.
“Edison, you are not somebody I know to be particularly emotional. What about Silas is making you emotional now?”
“He tries to be good even though he doesn’t believe he can be good.”
“Oh?”
Edison takes a long look at Silas, whose chin is to his chest. Edison’s expression creases, but he holds himself together.
“Silas believes he is evil. To his core. Yet he still tries to be good.” Edison lets out a frustrated breath. “If I failed at anything, it is that I could never convince him that he has always been good.”
Oakley presses against Silas. He hesitates, then takes his hand. Silas turns, resting his forehead on Oakley’s shoulder, and Oakley looks relieved as he places a kiss on Sy’s head.
RONAN AND THANE
Indaja turns her attention to the other side of the room. Ronan and Thane have tears in their eyes.
She’s gentle as she says, “Ant, Erik, and Edison have worked more closely with Silas than anyone else, and they trust him implicitly.” She gives a small shrug.
“That doesn’t mean you have to immediately have that same level of trust. But if you were willing to try, what would you need to see from him?
Is there anything Silas could do to make you know he would never harm your son? ”
Ronan stays quiet. Processing.
After a moment, Thane speaks up. “We’ve already seen that Silas enjoys killing the bad guys. Which”—he laughs to himself—“is kind of on brand with the Wimberley operation.”
His small joke dismantles some of the tension in the room.
Thane continues, “But I’ve rewatched the footage from the first op Oakley went on. It was clear from the beginning that Silas wasn’t just having fun. He was never going to allow Oakley to be harmed.”
“I would rip the head off anyone who tried to harm Oakley,” Silas says, his quiet words echoing.
Indaja taps her forehead. “Silas, I know you’re trying to help here, but…”
Ronan shocks the room by speaking. “Actually, that is helpful.” He lets out a long, slow breath. “Our son is large and strong and fully capable of defending himself. But he’s a lover, not a fighter. Our very own Ferdinand the Bull.”
Ronan and Oakley share a smile.
“Ferdinand the Bull was Oakley’s favorite childhood story,” Thane explains softly. “For fairly obvious reasons.”
Ronan is breathing heavily, but he’s finding his words.
Still unable to make eye contact with Silas, he says, “We should not have broken in like that. And definitely not armed.” He squeezes his eyes shut, his struggle obvious. “Not only is my son intelligent. Not only is he an expert in the field of…”
“Fucked-up brains?” Oakley provides.
“Yeah, that.” Ronan looks at his son. Really looks at him. “But also, you have always had a good sense of people. You’ve always known before the rest of us whether a person had good intentions or bad. I should have trusted you. And this irrational fear I have of Silas—”
“It’s not so irrational,” Silas says.
Ant grumbles. “Don’t say that.”
Silas bites his lip. “You may have seen the same footage of me, but you were warned what you’d be looking at. Thane and Ronan saw it live. There’s no way it wouldn’t have triggered his PTSD.”
Ant nods. Ronan realizes Ant must have his own struggles with PTSD. He, of course, would know all about memories that stick around long after you thought you’d worked it all out.
“That is true,” Ronan admits to the table, the truth of what he’s done starting to finally land.
“I have been in therapy for years, as needed. But I’ve never allowed myself to examine how I feel about you.
” He shivers, then admits, “You look so much like him that it’s like he’s sitting right here in front of me. ”
Silas, more generous than Ronan feels he deserves, nods. “I get that.”
“But you’re not him. And you’ve never been him. And I’m so sorry I’ve never acknowledged that.”
It’s Silas’s turn to shift in his seat.
For the first time in this entire exchange, Ronan looks Ant and Erik in the eyes. “I don’t think I understood how much you gave up to raise Silas.” He holds up his hand. “Wait. That’s not exactly right. I…”
Ronan’s chest hitches, and Thane grips his hand.
“I’m the one who made it impossible for you to truly be a part of this family. I was afraid, yes. But I did that. I never thought to examine whether or not that level of fear warranted what it did to this family.”
Ronan rubs his forehead, grief marking his face. “Thane said that if Silas’s birthname had been Bash instead of Blake, I’d have accepted him, murderous tendencies and all.” He buries his face in his hands. “He’s right, of course, but Silas isn’t a Bash or a Blake. Silas is a Hernandez.”
Silas looks to his dads, tears in his eyes. “Yes, I am.”
Ant’s hand goes to his chest, and Ronan remembers a salient detail. Ant’s last name was taken from him when he was sold. It was the name he clawed his way back to, the name his husband took as his own.
For Silas to proudly accept it too… Well, that means something.
“Oh God.” Ronan’s hands go to his head. “Ant, Erik, I am so, so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”
Ant gets up and crosses the room, fast for such a small man. Ronan rises from his seat, and the two men hug. Seconds later, Erik and Thane also meet in the middle for a hug.
“We were friends once,” Ronan says, stepping back. “And maybe it’s too much to ask, but I would like to try again.”
Ant sniffs. “It’s not too much to ask. And not just for our sons.”
Hedy and Indaja get up and join the group hug.
“I should’ve intervened sooner,” Hedy says. “Certainly before Oakley started crossing ethical boundaries left and right.”
“Excuse me?” Oakley pulls Silas into his side. “You’re gonna talk to me about ethics?”
A dark chuckle fills the room. Everyone looks to Edison, who is still seated at the table. He laughs even louder and gets up, joining Hedy with an arm around her waist.
“He’s got you there.”
The entire room laughs, and the last of the tension breaks.
The work has just begun, but maybe it’s no longer mission impossible.