Chapter 9 Silver #2
“You want to know the worst part?” she asks with a dark laugh. “I can’t remember, Silver. Not the whole night. I know I was dancing with Kel in the club. Then I was falling outside. Then… then I was in his bed. I still don’t know what else happened. What else I did… he did… that we…”
The pain is evident in her voice as she takes in a shuddering breath and blinks back more tears.
“I still feel like there’s so much more I’m missing,” she mumbles. “But the way I felt in that bed—I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even see clearly. I remember having two shots of tequila. How could I blackout that badly?”
Her question is met with tense, uncomfortable silence.
I don’t want to plant more ideas in her head, but everything she’s told me doesn’t sound right. It sounds like there’s a lot more being kept from her.
I’m gonna get to the bottom of it. One way or another, using whatever means necessary.
But for the time being, it’s my goal to assuage her. Make her feel safe and heard and like things aren’t all bleak and hopeless.
Most importantly, make sure she stops beating herself up the way she is.
“This isn’t your fault,” I repeat firmly. “You didn’t ask for this. You hear me? No matter what happened that night, you didn’t deserve it.”
“I chose to drink—”
“Doesn’t matter. Being drunk isn’t a green light to take advantage of somebody. What happened to you was wrong, Solana. Bottom line.”
She goes quiet for a moment, thinking as she stares out the window. “The nurse said I should file a police report.”
“You should.”
“I can’t. I won’t.”
“Solana—”
“It would make everything worse. Everyone at school would hate me. They’d say I was trying to ruin his life. That I’m just some girl who got drunk and had sex and regretted it. Shay and Yvette told me I asked to go back to his place.”
“Did you?”
“I… I can’t remember.”
“Exactly,” I say. “You can’t remember. Do you think you’d do that? I’m sure they’re about to tell you you asked for all sorts of shit. Whatever covers their ass.”
“I can’t prove that!” she snaps. “Even if that’s true, I don’t know! It’s been over a week. All I have are bits and pieces. That’s not enough.”
I pull up outside her house, searching for the right words. “You have other options then. Support groups, counseling—”
“Just forget it, okay?” she asks, fumbling with the door handle. “Forget everything. Please don’t tell anyone. Not Uncle Eddie, not Moses, nobody.”
“Wait, you need to—”
But she’s already hopping out of the truck, running toward her front door. “Just leave it alone, Silver! I shouldn’t have called you!”
The door slams behind her, and I’m left sitting in my truck, engine idling, hands gripping the steering wheel. I can’t blame her for lashing out, as frustrating as it is. She’s in shock, still processing everything.
But this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
I know she doesn’t want me to tell Eddie, and I’ll respect that for now. But this Kel bastard? He’s got a reckoning coming. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but soon.
Some things can’t go unanswered.
I spend the rest of the drive with rage burning inside my chest. My knuckles are white on the steering wheel, jaw clenched tight enough to make my molars ache.
More questions have formed in my mind, like how Solana could get blackout drunk off what she says were two shots of tequila. She’s no doubt probably a lightweight, but that level of intoxication is more than pushing it.
She’d let it slip one of her so-called friends got her the fake ID. It sounds like some of them are closer with each other than they are to her. Like they’re covering for each other and she’s the collateral damage.
Realistically, how long can I keep this from Eddie? From Moses? They’re her family and my brothers in steel—they have a right to know.
But she begged me not to tell, and breaking that trust might destroy whatever fragile support system she’s let me become.
I pull into my driveway, twisting off the engine. The street’s dark and quiet like always this time of night. Most of my neighbors are elderly, in bed by nine. But as I step out of the truck, something catches my eye.
Bright, piercing headlights from a car parked three houses down, the engine running.
I stop at my front door, keys in hand, and stare at the car. The headlights don’t waver. They’re watching me. Even possibly want me to know they are.
The Penas are known for these kind of intimidation tactics.
They’re probably still pissed about the deal going sour. It could always be the Road Rebels or Hellrazors testing boundaries, especially with Wheels being on the run and so quiet in recent months, but if I were a betting man, my money’s on the former.
The Penas have decided to move forward with this escalating feud.
I turn fully toward the car, shoulders squared, making it clear I see them. Just so they know I know about them and I’m ready for whatever they’ve got.
The car sits where it is, the engine still purring. The mystery person behind the wheel keeps watching, but they see me like I see them.
After a long moment, I turn and walk inside, slamming the door.
Let them watch.
When they’re ready to make a move, they’ll find out what happens when you come for a Steel King.