Chapter 22
OAKLEY
I drove my car to Wimberley, so I have to follow Silas home. He’s treating the speed limit like it’s a cute suggestion, so I can only hope he’s as desperate for my touch as I am to touch him.
By the time I park, he’s already made his way past the elevator vestibule to the hidden entrance to his condo. He leaves the door open, and I catch up with him and Cupcake in the living room.
He’s standing stock-still in the middle of the room, facing away from me. He sways when Cupcake nudges his calf.
“Silas…”
“You really trust me?” he asks, his voice small.
“Implicitly,” I say with as much feeling as I can muster, taking a step closer.
“And…” He turns his head slightly. “You really wanna be with me?”
Oh, Sy.
“I’m falling in love with you so fast…” I move a half step closer, needing to touch him again. “I can’t imagine not being with you.”
He stops swaying. Gives me another barely there glance over his shoulder, still not making eye contact.
“You are?” He shakes his head like maybe he misheard me. “You’re falling in love with me?”
I take another step forward, so close I can smell the shampoo he used this morning. “I couldn’t stop it if I tried.”
He begins swaying again.
“Silas…please. May I touch you?”
He nods.
Letting out a relieved breath, I drag him back against my chest and wrap my arms around him. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since he had asked me to leave, but that is still far too long.
“Do you think your parents will really be able to accept me?” he asks, and God, that question breaks my fucking heart.
“I don’t know, but they promised to try. And they’ve never lied to me.”
“But what if they don’t come around?” Silas leans against my arms, as if testing whether or not I’ll hold him. “What if your dad can’t come around?”
I tighten my grip.
“That doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love my parents, and they will always be in my life, but so will you.”
He’s strung tight like a bow, his anxiety buffeting us in this dark living room. I realize, belatedly, that he’s afraid.
I place a soft kiss on the top of his head. “What scares you the most right now?” I whisper into his hair.
He presses back against my lips. Just enough that I know it’s intentional. Just enough to detect the delicate tremor running the length of his body.
“It’s a tie,” he finally admits. “I’m terrified I’ll hurt you, and I’m terrified you’ll leave me.”
I hate how he’s internalized this notion that he is evil. Or even remotely leaveable.
“You will never hurt me. And you’ll just have to believe me when I say I have no intention of leaving you.
” I pause and think through my words. “I can’t make promises yet about a romantic relationship, but you will always be family.
And in that way, I will always love you.
But I do want more. And I am prepared to work and fight for more. ”
That much was true.
I rub my nose against his ear. “Please let me show you how I feel.”
Silas pulls away, turning to look into my eyes. He reaches across himself, grabbing his elbow, as if tensing for a blow.
I let him see the truth of everything I’m feeling inside. I swallow thickly, waiting for his answer.
“Okay.”
I nearly drop from relief. Instead, I take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. Turning on a lamp, I adjust it to the lowest setting, then pull him face-to-face with me.
“May I kiss you? Touch you?”
His expression turns shy, and he nods.
I touch my lips to his, and he leans into the kiss, his hands coming to my shoulders, dragging me in a little closer. I kiss his mouth, his jaw, up and down his neck as my hands explore his back. His ass.
I thumb the button on his jeans, a silent question. He nods.
Slowly, I undress him, placing more kisses on the exposed areas of his body. Care and relief and desire ping around my insides.
We lie in bed, and I grab the lube. Gently, carefully, I open him for me. I’m tempted to check in with him, but I know he prefers it when I’m simply in charge, showing him how I feel. So that’s what I do.
Once we’re both naked and prepped, I turn off the dim lamp and push him back against the pillows. I position myself between his legs in the dark, kissing him more deeply. Pressing gently at his entrance, I slip inside him. He gasps.
“Sore?” I ask, unable to see his face.
“Yes. You’re perfect.”
I smile and kiss him as I carefully work my way in to the hilt.
We kiss and make love in the pitch black.
I say nothing, using only my body to show him that I mean it.
He likes the heaviness, the way it feels to be pushed into the mattress.
So today I let him feel my full mass, and he relaxes beneath me. Totally, completely.
Wrapping his legs around my hips, he deepens our kisses, thrusting up as I roll down on him, his cock hard against my belly.
Finally, he cries out, spilling between us.
I follow quickly after, filling him just like he likes.
I stay inside him, trapping him under my bulk for several more minutes.
Waiting until his cock is hard again. I don’t have to wait long.
With a smile, I pull out and enjoy his complaining whine.
Kissing down his body, I plug him with two fingers to keep my cum inside him.
I nuzzle against his cock with my beard, slipping my tongue between his foreskin and cockhead, licking him clean before taking him into my mouth.
I suck and finger-fuck him until he’s arching up again, filling my mouth, whispering my name like a chant. A prayer.
“I love you so much,” he whispers on a sob.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I need to see his face when I say them. I want him to understand they don’t come from the emotion of the moment, but because I can’t imagine saying those words to anyone else.
I would love to say that the meeting at Wimberley fixed everything, but that was never a realistic expectation.
It did, however, start a dialogue. First between Erik and Papa.
Papa has always loved horses but was always told he was too large to ride.
Erik, who isn’t as heavy as Papa but certainly as tall, scoffed at the notion.
“We just need to find you a big enough horse.”
Sparrow, our horse whisperer friend, has a nose for rescues.
He was working with a Clydesdale rescue, and when he found out that there was a potential rider, he couldn’t wait to introduce them.
I wasn’t there, but Papa sent me a picture.
That may be the first time I’ve ever seen Papa look small.
The Clydesdale—Jane—is massive. Despite missing an ear and her tail, she hasn’t lost her sweetness.
Sparrow took a video of Papa riding her around the paddock, and he looked like a little kid, laughing and happy.
My favorite picture is at the end of the ride, when Papa dismounted and pressed his forehead to Jane’s forehead, clearly touched by the experience.
Dad texts me separately, just a few minutes after we receive the picture.
Dad: I think we should all have dinner together.
Me: Yeah?
Dad: Yeah. Maybe on your rooftop?
Dad: Just you, Silas, and the dads? I can make my lasagna.
The fact that Dad used Silas’s name makes my chest contract. Also, his lasagna could be used to broker peace between warring nations. It’s that good.
I talk it over with Silas, and he agrees. He reaches out to his fathers, who readily accept our invitation.
The evening starts out tense, but a little wine and some small talk loosen everyone’s tongues. Dad still can’t quite look Sy in the eye, but he’s trying.
“Where did you get this recipe from?” Ant asks, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He may be tiny, but he had two humongous helpings.
Dad flushes. “You’re going to laugh.”
“But will I laugh while getting a copy of said recipe?” Ant asks, rubbing his belly.
“Okay, fine.” I love that I know what he’s going to say next. “Do you remember TikTok?”
Erik laughs and points at Ant. “He used to make the dorkiest horse videos on that thing. Got, like, fifty views. Total.”
Ant elbows his husband. “Shut up.”
Dad laughs. “That makes me feel like less of a nerd.” He swirls his fork in the leftover pasta sauce. “I…I saved a video from an Italian nonna on my phone and put a backup copy on the cloud.”
“That’s kind of adorable,” Ant says, leaning forward. “Wait. Didn’t you write it down?”
“Yes, but…”
Papa grins. “Tell them why you won’t use the written recipe, Ro.”
Dad glares, then smooths out his napkin. “It doesn’t come out the same when I use the written recipe.”
“And why else?” Papa asks, kissing Dad’s shoulder.
Dad lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. Nonna Sofia is very soothing to listen to.”
Ant’s hearty laugh echoes over the rooftop.
“You’ll see,” Dad insists. “I’ll send it to you.”
“Actually, make sure to send a copy to Sy. He’s the cook in our family.”
Dad looks over at Silas, stretches his neck.
“I didn’t realize you cook.”
Silas scrunches his nose. “Ant always acts like I’m some kind of whiz in the kitchen. I’m just really good at following recipes.”
“Maybe send him both the video and the text of the recipe,” I suggest. “Silas likes clear instructions.”
Silas flames red and sends me the cut-it gesture. Papa catches the subtext right away and rolls forward, laughing so hard he nearly knocks over his wineglass.
Dad and Erik look confused, but Ant joins Papa in laughing.
Dad’s the one who goes red next. “Oakley Heath Ashford.”
Silas turns to me. “Your middle name is Heath?”
“Yeah, like my uncle. You know him. He’s married to Roly.”
Silas nods sagely. “Ah yes. The original Bear Killer,” he says, patting my belly.
Realizing what he’s just said, Silas’s eyes go round and he turns to Dad. “I mean that sexually, not literally.”
Dad’s hands go to his face, and his laugh… My dad has a really good laugh. Loud. Boisterous. Something I never thought I’d hear in this context.
Silas looks like he wants to disappear into a hole.
Dad, still laughing, reaches over and grabs Silas’s shoulder. “I understood you perfectly. And you’d realize how funny it is if you knew that Roly and Thane have…history.”
“Wait, what?” I say, staring at my Papa like he’s got a second head. “You and Roly…?”
He shrugs. “I wasn’t bear enough for him.”
Erik, half a bottle deep, dissolves into giggles. “This is the best dinner, ever.”
We all break, laughter echoing off the water and the surrounding buildings. We’ll probably end up with a noise complaint, but it’ll be worth it.
Dad rubs his chest. “It really is.” He blinks rapidly. “I… Thank you for hosting tonight.”
He turns to Silas, taking his hand. “And thank you for loving my son.”
Sy ducks his chin. “I couldn’t help it.”
I kiss Silas’s temple, releasing whatever leftover anxiety I was holding on to.
It’s been awful, knowing my dad was struggling so hard, knowing that the man he is was being obscured by everything that happened to him. That our friends and my Silas now get to see him as he truly is makes me so fucking happy I could burst.
I kiss Silas’s hand, and he kisses mine. His eyes widen. “Oh! I forgot! I made cookies.”
“Cookies?” I send him a disgruntled look. “Why have you never made me cookies before?”
“I wanted to perfect the recipe first,” he says, charming everyone with his shy smile.
Dad shakes his head. “I still can’t get over the fact that Silas is a blusher. I mean…that’s adorable.”
Silas goes even redder and then gets up from the table and walks to the stairs.
“Look at what you did to him, Dad. He’s gonna hafta jog up and down the stairs at least two or three times before he comes back with the cookies.”
“Sorry, Sy!”
Silas ducks his chin and waves at us, then disappears into the stairwell. Erik and Ant are staring at each other. A tear rolls down Ant’s face.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Uh…” Ant sniffs, then laughs. “We didn’t know he could blush either.”
The table goes quiet, but this time it’s a thoughtful silence. We enjoy the cool evening breeze, the sounds of downtown Austin filtering up from the street level, and the hope of a future.
About thirty seconds later, Silas opens the door and lets himself onto the rooftop. No cookies. Did he change his shirt?
“Did you forget something?” I call out.
Silas stills, then moves toward us. Dad shivers.
“Oak…”
My split-second instinct is to be annoyed, but then I see the terror on my dad’s face.
Cupcake growls
Something is…off.
Capital O. Off.
“Sy, baby? Are you okay?”
He doesn’t say anything, speeding up as he nears us. Cupcake gives three sharp barks.
That’s her warning bark.
She’s going to attack.
“Cup, no,” I say, then turn to Sy, confused.
Huh.
He seems to be vibrating. I follow his line of sight, and he’s staring at Dad.
“You,” he growls.
“What the fuck, Sy?” I ask, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. It’s Silas, but he looks weirdly young.
Only then do I see the flash of gunmetal. A pistol. With a suppressor.
Cupcake flies at Silas, aiming right for his throat. Sy turns and aims.
He pulls the trigger, catching Cupcake in the shoulder with a quiet sound that fractures something in my psyche. The shot spins her midair. Cupcake yelps, then crumples to the ground.
Still on the move, Silas takes aim at Dad. He pulls the trigger with a grin, no hesitation.
I’ve been working with Wimberley’s advanced weaponry for a while now, and I don’t recognize this gun.
Or this man.
“Ronan!” Papa screams, racing to his side.
“No tattoos,” Dad chokes out, blood pouring from the side of his head.
Papa fumbles for his phone and hits a button. Silas scratches his temple with the suppressor, a slight upward tilt on cruel lips.
“This is Thane Ashford on the Wildlings’ rooftop,” Papa says, his voice shaking. “Shots fired. Silas has gone rogue. Send help.”
“Help is on the way.”
That’s Uncle Jake’s voice. I don’t…
“Silas?” I ask, blinking.
He winks. Then tsks as he shakes his head.
His eyes. His eyes don’t make sense. They’ve gone white.
Dad’s words finally filter through. I look at the man’s hands.
No tattoos.
This isn’t my Silas.
There’s only one word pinballing through my mind right now.
Clone.
“I see you’ve got it now,” he says, shooting off to the side.
A heavy thump shakes the ground. I know it’s Papa without looking.
“Son, listen to my voice,” Erik says, his voice preternaturally calm. “This isn’t you. Don’t do this. Talk to me.”
Not-Silas grins and turns to Erik. “You’re right. It isn’t me.”
He shoots, and a spot of blood appears in the middle of Erik’s chest. Erik’s mouth falls open, blood staining his lips. He falls, and so does Ant, who was standing behind him. Through and through.
Not-Silas points his gun at me. His eyes shine like opals.
“Hey there, big boy. Seems like my brother and I have a type.”