19. Silas
CHAPTER NINETEEN
T he third text sat there, glaring back at me.
Sent.
Delivered.
Unread.
My thumb tapped against the edge of my phone as I checked the time again.
3:42am.
My jaw locked. I hadn’t slept all night. I’d upset her, or I’d made her angry. Either way, she wasn’t okay, and it was ripping my organs out one by one.
When the notification had chimed at 3:07am, I’d reached for my phone.
She hadn’t been lingering on her porch, or picking up a late-night delivery. She was walking away. No hesitation or looking back, just disappearing into the dark, swallowed up by empty streets.
And I didn’t like it. Something was wrong.
I’d shot off a text to see if she was okay, but she was still ignoring me.
I pushed upright, sheets pooling at my waist. The air in my bedroom felt colder, pressing against my skin, sharpening at the edges.
There were reasons. Rational explanations. Maybe she’d forgotten something at work. Maybe she couldn’t sleep and decided to take a walk. Maybe she—
No .
Silas
What are you doing?
Nothing. No dots. No response.
Silas
Lilith?
My stomach twisted, grip tightening around the phone, fingers pressing too hard against the edges like I could will it to light up.
The pressure in my chest pulled tight. Too tight. My ribs were caving in, like there wasn’t enough air in the room, in the entire fucking city.
I stood up quickly. Sheets tangled around my legs, nearly tripping me as I shoved them away and started pacing.
Breathe.
Calm down.
But my brain was on its own track, spinning too fast, snapping from one conclusion to the next.
Where was she?
Why was she still not answering?
A sharp, uneven breath punched out of me, and I flexed my hands, curling them into fists at my side. My whole body was restless, wired, like it needed to do something. But what?
What the hell was I supposed to do?
I scraped my fingers through my hair, gripping the back of my neck, trying to ground myself, trying to focus on something other than the blood roaring through my ears.
It’s happening again.
No.
No. No. No.
I moved fast—hoodie, scarf, keys, gone.
It’s happening again.
No.
The tyres screeched as I tore out of the garage. I didn’t even remember taking the elevator down, my mind was whirling at a thousand miles an hour.
My focus was razor sharp, locked on the road, on the darkened sidewalks, every flicker of movement at the edges of my vision.
I turned onto the next road, cutting the corner too fast, tyres skidding against the pavement.
Every single street. Every single side street. Every single place she could have gone.
Nothing.
This wasn’t happening again. I would find her.
My vision blurred for a split second—just a flicker, just long enough for my stomach to lurch, for panic to shove its way up my spine. I blinked hard, forcing the salty water back.
My chest was caving in, fingers flexing and curling against the wheel to anchor me, because I couldn’t damn well breathe.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t—
There.
I slammed on the brakes, tyres screeching as the car came to an abrupt stop. My hands shook as I rolled the passenger side window down, cold, sharp air slamming into my face.
She twisted around fast, head snapping toward me.
And just like that, relief punched through my chest, so sudden and sharp it made me dizzy.
It was her. She was okay.
My arms flew up, cutting through the air in a silent, exasperated gesture. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing on me as she raised her brows. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
Unbelievable.
No. I wasn’t doing this. She wasn’t sitting out here in the cold, on her own. It was my job to keep her safe, and she wasn’t freezing to death on my watch.
I leaned over the driver’s seat, one hand still gripping the wheel, and popped the passenger door open.
Then I waited. Didn’t say anything. Didn’t move.
She just watched me, like she was debating whether or not she actually wanted to get in. Then, with a slow exhale, she stood, tossed her coffee cup into the trash, and pulled the door open the rest of the way before sliding into the passenger seat.
I pulled away from the curb.
She was in my car.
Lilith.
In my car.
I swallowed hard, eyes locked on the road ahead, refusing to so much as glance in her direction. But I could feel her looking at me. Not speaking. Just watching. Like she could see how much I was unravelling, even when I was doing everything in my power to keep it together.
I needed to get her home. That was it. That was all that mattered. Didn’t matter why she was out here. Didn’t matter why she hadn’t answered me. Didn’t matter that she was so damn close I could hear the shift of fabric when she moved.
“So… are you going to explain to me what the fuck you’re doing?” she asked.
My grip on the wheel tightened. I didn’t answer, because I didn’t have a legible one. Not one that would make sense. Not one that wouldn’t make this worse.
She let out a sharp huff. “Hello?”
Still nothing, every muscle was coiled to the point of bursting, but I kept my eyes fixed on the asphalt.
“Can you answer my question? ”
I took a slow, steady inhale. “No.”
Her breath caught, a little uneven, a little unsteady, like she was catching herself before she said something else. But when she did, her voice was edged with something sharp. “Oh, so you do speak? Fantastic.”
I swallowed hard, throat tight. Still said nothing.
“How did you know where I was?”
Fuck.
“Hello? Are you going to explain yourself or are we just gonna sit here in creepy silence?”
If I opened my mouth, I wasn’t sure whether I’d speak or throw up. Neither felt like a great option right now.
“Are you serious right now? Can you at least pretend to be a normal person for five seconds and answer the damn question? How the hell did you know where I was?”
I exhaled hard, fingers curling tighter against the wheel.
“Were you already watching me?”
I snapped my head toward her. “No.”
The glow of the streetlights flickered through the windshield onto her face. She looked sunken in. Pale and drained.
“Let me out.”
“No .”
“Right. Cool. Can you actually say anything else other than ‘no,’ or are we gonna keep this one-word mystery act going all night?”
My lips parted, the word already waiting. “No.”
A sharp sound left her—not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. “Oh my God.”
I needed to say something, needed to fix this, needed to know what was wrong, but my tongue was heavy in my mouth, words catching somewhere in my throat before I could push them out. But I tried. “You didn’t respond to my texts.”
There was a beat of silence, then movement, the shift of fabric and the soft glow of a screen.
“That’s irrelevant right now. How did you even know I’d left?”
For the life of me, I had no idea what I was supposed to say.
“Do you have a tracker on my phone?”
Say something.
“Do you have cameras in my house?”
Gesù Cristo.
“ No.” The word came out too fast.
“Oh God. Please tell me you haven’t got cameras in my house.”
A muscle in my jaw ticked. “I— ”
“How do you know that I…” I could practically hear the gears turning in her head. The moment the pieces clicked. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” She let out a sharp breath, shifting in her seat to face me fully. “My fucking doorbell?”
I stayed staring at the road. Mouth clamped shut under the scarf.
She threw her hands in the air, her laughter half-hysterical, half ‘are you actually serious right now?’
“That’s how you’ve been making it cut off too? That’s why it never shows you? The doorbell?! Of all things?! Oh, for God’s sake, that explains so much! Are you a hacker or something?” She let out another laugh. “I don’t know if I should be impressed or ready to start swinging.”
Bile crept up my throat. She wasn’t supposed to find out like this. Hell, she wasn’t supposed to find out at all.
Her palm hit the dash so hard it vibrated through my car. “Pull the fuck over. Now!”
Shame coiled itself around my bones as I eased the car to the side of the road.
She was angry. Rightfully so.
“No more ‘ no’s,’” she said. “No more cryptic bullshit. What do you think you’re doing?”
The lump in my throat was too thick, and my fingers curled tighter around the steering wheel, nails digging into the leather. “I don’t know.”
She let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Oh, you don’t know?
That’s rich. It’s one thing pulling your lurker act.
It’s one thing sending me gifts and lunches.
It’s another thing keeping up this whole masked mystery man charade in our texts.
But watching me through a damn doorbell?
Like some messed up personal guard dog? What the actual fuck? ”
The words hit. Hard. She didn’t even know the half of what I’d done.
Didn’t know why Clark hadn’t bothered her again.
Didn’t know what I’d done to him. Didn’t know why I had to hide myself away from her.
Didn’t know a damn thing. She had no idea how deep this went.
And if she did? She’d jump out of this car and run for the hills.
“Look at me.” Her voice was softer now, but it wasn’t a request, it was an order.
I hesitated, but I did it. Slowly, reluctantly, I turned, forcing my eyes to meet hers. “I just wanted to keep you safe. Make sure you were okay.” My voice felt foreign in my throat, low and small. Shit, I was pathetic.
“Jesus. You can’t do that—you can’t—” she gestured vaguely, as if she was trying to grasp the right words. “Do you know what. Fine. You want to make sure I’m safe? Then take me home.”