10. Sam
Chapter 10
Sam
B ecause I want you there, and I trust you.
I trust you.
I trust you.
Sam was in so deep he couldn’t see the surface anymore.
He had to leave. It was the only option.
He had to go far, far away because Silas was beautifully whole, warm, and kind, and wouldn’t deserve any of the turmoil Sam inevitably brought upon him.
He wouldn’t want any of what Sam brought upon him.
He wouldn’t want Sam.
He had to go because every day he spent with Silas, every minute in his presence, every casual-not-so-casual brush of their hands felt like Sam’s heart was leaking out through the cracks in his chest. He was certain if their almost-kiss had gone any further, he would’ve burst at the seams, spilling every bit of his wretched soul out on the pavement for Silas to see.
Sam had to go because Silas trusted him and wanted him to meet his family so much he’d shared a precious secret. He’d been trusted with a secret before, and he’d fucked that up so thoroughly he’d given nearly everything to try and fix it.
Jaime had deserved better. Silas deserved better, too.
Sam was so caught up in his distraught thoughts he nearly missed it—the magic magic Silas spoke of.
While the drive from Silver Rapids had been short, they’d climbed in elevation quite significantly, and the dirt road they traveled down was thick with snow. The path was barely accessible, even with snow tires, and when they reached a point where they couldn’t go any further, they came to a stop.
Finn and Jaime pulled in close behind.
“Come on, love,” Silas said, grinning. He motioned for Sam to exit the truck with him, his face already flushed from the cold and excitement. “I can’t wait to show you this.”
By the time Sam was unbuckled and opened the door, Silas was already on his side of the truck, reaching up to help him down. Wrapping his gloved hand around Sam’s, Silas pulled him across the road and pointed out toward the nearby mountain range.
“There,” he said, “on the far side of the valley near the bend in the river, at the base of those foothills. Can you see it?”
Sam squinted, scanning for something that disrupted the tree-studded plain. “I can’t see anything,” he said, shaking his head.
Silas stepped up behind him, wrapping an arm around his middle while he pressed his body flush to Sam’s. He pointed his other arm out over Sam’s shoulder, guiding his gaze just slightly to the left.
Right in his ear, Silas said, “It’s just there, past where those trees have fallen in the river. Look for the smoke coming from the chimney.”
Sam couldn’t focus on anything except the hard press of Silas all along his back. The way his arm banded around his middle had all sorts of visions of Silas holding him like this while he drove his cock up into Sam from behind.
Would Silas fuck slow and deep, drawing out every bit of pleasure he possibly could before finally tipping Sam over the edge? Or would he drive into him hard and fast, over and over, until Sam was screaming?
He felt like he was burning up from the contact, even through all the layers Silas had bundled them into before they’d left the house. But… yes. Blinking the haze of lust away, Sam caught sight of the barest hint of smoke curling toward the sky.
Following it down, he squinted at the slight shimmer in the air, almost like sunlight reflecting off water. “I think I see something…”
“That’s where they live,” Silas whispered in his ear.
Sam gasped as the shimmer dissipated, revealing the most picturesque cottage he’d ever seen. “Wow,” he said, breathless. “They live all the way out there? That’s amazing! How do we get there? How did you get to school every day? How do they get groceries? Where does their water come from?”
Silas laughed and released him, stepping back. Sam felt suddenly naked in the cold without the warm weight of him. “When the snow’s gone, there’s a small road you can take up to the house, but otherwise, we shift and run, which only takes a few minutes. If we can’t run in the winter, we take the snowmobiles.”
Sam looked back over his shoulder to see Finn had already parked one truck inside a shed he’d missed when they first arrived and was pulling the second in next to it. Two snowmobiles were sitting next to the shed, and Silas began helping Jaime stack their bags onto the covered sled attached to the back of one.
“They shop for groceries in bulk and haul it all to the house using the sleds, and they get water from a private well. They heat the house with gas, plus the wood-burning stoves.”
Sam was fascinated by all of it. He’d love to live this way someday; completely removed from people, alone out in the middle of the Alaskan taiga where he and Silas could?—
Stop.
His chest ached in wanting that fantasy to be a reality. Thankfully, the loud whir of the engines rumbling to life cut off Sam’s thoughts. He helped gather the last of their things from the truck, securing everything onto the sled.
“The terrain getting down into the valley is a bit rough,” Silas hollered over the sound of the engines. “Wear this.”
He passed Sam a helmet with a snow visor.
“You aren’t wearing one,” Sam accused.
Silas grinned, flashing his teeth. “Thinking of shoving me off? Can’t get rid of me that easily, love. Super healing noggin, remember?”
Sam was glad for the excuse to push the helmet down over his head so the visor covered his blush. He fumbled with the strap for a few seconds before Silas stepped close, reaching to take over.
“Let me.” Silas’ fingers gently brushed the delicately soft skin on the underside of Sam’s chin, lightly scratching against the stubble of his beard as he made sure not to pinch when he secured the clasp.
“There,” he said, hooking his palm around Sam’s nape. His hand was so large his thumb brushed along the front of Sam’s throat, over his Adam’s apple. “All secure.”
Sam had never once considered it a turn-on to have his neck held during sex, had never trusted anyone with his safety that much, and certainly had never allowed anyone close enough for that level of intimacy. And yet, Silas had once again broken through Sam’s defenses—not with force, but with gentle strength.
At that moment, Sam would do anything Silas asked of him with his giant hand wrapped around his throat and those eyes that peered down like he was something to be treasured and protected.
“We should go, we’ll lose the light,” Finn shouted from where he and Jaime were mounted on their snowmobile, ready to depart.
Silas released him, and again, Sam felt unfinished without his touch. Throwing a leg over their snowmobile, Silas held his hand out to help Sam on behind him. “Hold on to me,” he shouted.
Sam locked his arms around Silas’ middle as they took off, happy for the excuse to cling on to his sturdy warmth while Sam scrambled to sort through his overwhelmingly big feelings.
It was both wonderfully profound and horrible to realize that holding on to Silas was all he’d ever really needed.
“You made it!” a stunningly beautiful woman exclaimed, jogging down the porch steps and throwing her arms around Silas the second he dismounted the snowmobile.
As Sam pulled off his helmet, Silas lifted her in one of those giant bear hugs that were as much a part of him as the furry ears on top of his head. “Of course we made it. Sorry we were a few days delayed,” Silas rumbled.
A man who Sam supposed was Silas’ father pulled Finn into a similarly all-encompassing hug.
Sam blinked. He’d never seen Finn look so soft, like a boy who just needed to be held. Was that the Finn Jaime had fallen for so completely?
The beautiful dark-haired woman with Silas’ deep brown eyes stepped over to him. “Hello Sam, I’m Meera,” she said, smiling. Her canines were proportionally smaller than Silas and Finn’s, and her dark, furry ears were more pointed—not quite as blunt as Silas’.
But what Sam noticed most, what stole his breath like a fast-pitched baseball right to the chest, was the way her eyes crinkled in the corners when she smiled, exactly the way his mom had.
The wave of familiarity-driven grief was sudden and entirely unexpected. “Nice to meet you.” He coughed to clear the crack in his voice, blinking rapidly. “Thank you for having me, or I mean, inviting me. I’ve never seen a house more beautiful than this,” he said lamely, his words tripping over each other while he collected himself.
It was true, though; the house really was the most gorgeous he’d ever seen.
Tucked into a small clearing, the cottage looked like it’d been pulled straight from a fairytale. A steeply pitched roof sat atop two stories, with warm light pouring out of each pitched dormer window and smoke curling from the large center chimney. It looked cozy and welcoming, beckoning him inside from the cold.
Silas wrapped an arm around his waist, and Sam had never been more grateful for the shared strength.
“We’re so glad you came, we’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Silas talks about you all the time,” she said, beaming again.
“Uh yeah, hey, come meet my dad,” Silas said, palming the back of his neck. Sam had the overwhelming urge to kiss the blush off his cheeks.
They turned in time to see Silas’ dad release Jaime from the bear hug he’d wrapped him in, and Sam thought he’d start crying all over again.
Fucking hell, he’d expected Silas’ family to be nice , but he hadn’t been prepared for just how wretchedly wonderful they were.
“Call me Cal. It’s so nice to finally meet you, I feel like we know all about you already from Silas,” his dad said, squeezing Sam in his large embrace.
Yeah, definitely where Silas learned to hug.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Sam responded when he could take a breath.
“Alright,” Meera said, clapping once. “Everyone inside, out of the cold. Boots off, don’t you dare track snow onto my rug.”
They unloaded the sled and filed in through the front door one by one, removing their snow-covered outer layers and boots as requested.
Piling their bags by the stairs, Meera herded everyone in, where she had coffee and tea waiting. The kitchen was open to the living area, and while it was small with all of them crowded in close, it wasn’t cramped.
“Welcome to the family, Jaime,” Meera said, her eyes glistening as she held up her coffee. “We were overjoyed to hear Finn had found you. It’s lovely to have another son to embarrass and ply with too much hot chocolate. And we’re so glad we finally get the chance to know you better, Sam,” she finished, softly smiling at him.
Everyone held their cups up and drank to Meera’s loving toast.
Sam couldn’t make eye contact with any of them afterward, moving through the motions of sipping his coffee as they all settled into the living room to relax before dinner.
His skin lit up when Silas leaned in close, brushing their arms together. “Are you alright?” he asked, voice low.
“Yeah,” Sam said, still not looking at him. “I think I just need to use the bathroom.”
Silas’ brows knit together, but he pointed Sam down a hallway off the living room.
Excusing himself, Sam hurried down the quiet corridor and shut himself in the small half-bathroom, immediately feeling better with the door between him and the overwhelming feelings that waited on the other side.
He heaved a deep breath.
Cal and Meera were warm, wonderful people. They clearly loved Silas and Finn very much, and in a gesture Sam still hadn’t fully wrapped his mind around, they’d opened their home to him and Jaime. They’d welcomed Jaime into their family as another son.
So why am I about to cry?
Because that may be the first motherly love Jaime could remember, and that was so fucking unfair, Sam wanted to scream.
He remembered their mom. He remembered how much she’d loved them, how she’d looked at them like they were her whole world. She’d been theirs, and she was taken slowly and cruelly, the way cancer stole so many.
He wanted to cry because no matter how hard he’d tried to be enough for Jaime after she died, he never had been. Because that burden should’ve never been his in the first place.
Because their father should’ve been stronger. Should’ve loved them more. Should’ve loved them enough to climb out of his own grief and help them through theirs.
Sam wanted to cry because Silas’ dad would have been strong enough. He’d risked everything to save his family from Cain’s power and influence. Sam’s dad hadn’t even been strong enough to remember to go to the goddamn grocery store.
And that’s why none of this can be yours.
Yes. That.
That was why Sam wanted to cry, most of all.
Because Jaime had found a lovely, wonderful family, and Sam couldn’t be a part of it. Because Silas was a part of that family, and he was everything Sam could’ve ever wanted, but he couldn’t keep him.
Sam’s mother hadn’t been strong enough to live, and his father hadn’t been strong enough to love them. Sam had already failed Jaime once; this time, he had to be strong enough to walk away, or else he’d be just another failure. He had to leave, or else he’d drag the one thing every single lovely person in the other room had been running from right back into their lives.
Sam could never bring Cain down on this family.
Splashing water on his face, he took several deep breaths and prepared to do what he’d done so many times—lie.
He’d tell Silas he was sick and needed to leave. He’d ask to be brought back to the house, where he’d gather his things and drive to Anchorage. He’d find a cheap motel to stay in until he had his security deposit back, and then he’d do his best to close up the jagged rift left in his heart from knowing Silas, from feeling what could have been with him and his family.
Sam took one last look in the mirror, his hollow gaze staring back. “At least I look terrible enough to pull this off.”
He turned and opened the door, ready to shore up his walls all over again, only to come face-to-face—or really, face-to-chest—with Silas’ dad.