33. Silas
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
S he was awake.
But… what the hell was that?
Maybe it was shock ? From the attack? From being here?
Whatever it was, I didn’t get it. Not even a little bit.
Her body was curled into the blankets, breath shallow. I wanted to go to her, to lie beside her, to wrap myself around her, to press my lips to her hair and tell her she was safe here.
But I didn’t.
Because she wasn’t safe. Not really. Not when her skin was marked with his violence, not when it was all because of me.
I needed to call the nurse. She needed fluids, needed the IV put back in.
But the sharp, shrill ring of the service phone shattered my thoughts.
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw and pulled myself toward the kitchen.
The call button on the wall blinked red. I pressed it. “Mr. Graves, this is building security.”
“Go ahead.”
“There are two officers here to speak with you. Shall I send them up?”
I stared at the panel, fingers curling into my palm.
The police.
I didn’t want them here. I wanted to hunt that piece of shit down and end him. Break him apart, piece by piece, until he was nothing but a pulverised stain on the concrete. I wanted his screams in my ears, his blood soaked into my flesh, his last breath wheezing past his shattered teeth.
But I couldn’t do that. Not without risking everything. Not without risking her.
So I’d brought her here. Carried her through my door while she bled and shook in my arms, and called the damn cop s.
I pressed the button again. “Send them up.”
I stayed at the kitchen counter, hands flexing against the cool marble as I waited.
Keep it together.
The elevator doors opened, and two officers stepped inside. “Silas Graves?”
I nodded once, crossing the space to meet them, every inch of my body locked tight. “That’s me.”
The woman nodded. “I’m Officer Harris. This is Officer Barnes. We’re here regarding the report you filed last night. Would you be able to walk us through what happened?”
I hated how easily the words came out, so flat and clinical like this was just another call, another case. Technically, to them, it was. But to me? This was everything.
My jaw tensed as I gestured toward the kitchen island. “Come in. I’ll explain everything.”
Harris gave a curt nod, stepping further inside, glancing around like she was assessing the space, the situation, me.
Barnes flipped open his notebook. “Let’s start from the beginning.”
The officers sat across from me, their expressions unreadable as I recounted every single detail. From the moment I heard the alarm, to the way I found her—crumpled on the ground, trembling in pain.
The image of her like that was now seared into my mind. Permanently. And it gnawed at me with a rage I had no outlet for.
Officer Barnes glanced down, his gaze catching on my hands. His eyes narrowed slightly. “You are aware that we have video evidence of everything that happened last night?”
I flexed my fingers against the marble. The bruises were worse now, the skin torn, dried blood cracking at the knuckles. My jaw ticked as I met his gaze. “Yes.”
A slow nod. “I’m glad.”
At least those assholes with their phones out had been useful for one thing—providing proof of what he’d done.
I leaned back slightly. “I already have a lawyer if needed.”
That had been one of the first things I’d done after making sure Lilith was cared for—called my lawyer, just in case.
Most people hadn’t gotten a good look at me that night. The hood had helped with that, shadowing most of my face. Plus, no one cared about the guy doing the hitting, they cared about the guy who deserved to get hit.
Clark.
Barnes exchanged a glance with Harris before shaking his head. “There’s no need.”
His voice was even, but there was something in his eyes. A flicker of understanding. Like he knew. Like he’d seen enough cases like this before to know exactly what kind of man Clark was.
“And after the altercation, you brought Miss Whitlock here?”
“Yes.”
“Why not take her to the hospital?”
I expected that question.
“I have a private physician on retainer,” I replied, pulling open the kitchen drawer where the paperwork was already prepared.
I slid the crisp medical report across the countertop, the doctor’s name and signature neatly printed at the bottom.
“He examined her thoroughly and stitched the wound himself. No concussion. No fractures. There was no evidence of sexual assault, so a rape kit wasn’t needed. ”
My voice didn’t waver. My jaw didn’t tighten. But inside, I was seething.
Barnes flipped through the report while Harris studied me, pen tapping lightly against her notepad.
“This was faster,” I added. “More discreet. And it didn’t take up resources in a hospital ER.”
Barnes glanced up from the report. “And this doctor, he’s licensed?”
“Of course.” The snap in my voice was sharper than I meant it to be, so I forced myself to rein it in. “He’s one of the best. I can have him speak with you directly if needed.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he said, flipping to a fresh page in his notebook. “And what is your relationship to Miss Whitlock?”
Shit.
I couldn’t tell them the truth.
‘You see, the thing is officers, I’m her long-term stalker who watched her for months and then somehow wormed his way in and has now stupidly, irrevocably, fallen for her.’
Wait. What?
Nope. No time to process whatever the fuck that was.
I straightened, forcing my voice to remain even. “She’s my girlfriend.”
The words felt foreign, but… not wrong.
The officers both glanced at each other, then back to me. I kept my expression blank even as my heart threatened to punch its way out of my chest.
“And where is Miss Whitlock right now?”
“She’s in bed.”
“We’ll need a statement directly from her.”
I exhaled slowly. “You can’t.”
A beat of silence stretched before Harris narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”
The words stuck to my throat like tar. “She’s in a… strange state right now. ”
Harris’ pen clicked softly as she capped it. “A strange state?”
I dragged a hand through my hair, inhaling through my nose as I chose my words carefully. “I don’t think she knows where she is, or what’s happened.”
“That happens sometimes with victims of assault. Does she have a psychiatrist?”
I swallowed hard. “I… I don’t know.”
Barnes lifted a brow. “And you say she’s your girlfriend?”
“Yes.” The word came out too fast, too automatic. “Yes, she is. I—” Oh, I fucked up. “I’ll call their office immediately.”
Harris studied me for a long moment, then nodded. “Do that.”
They pushed their chairs back from the island, standing in unison. “We’ll be in touch if there are any updates,” Barnes said.
I rose to my feet. “Updates?”
He nodded. “Yes, when Mr. Thorn is in custody.”
My stomach turned to lead. “You haven’t got him yet?”
“Not yet. But we will.”
Not good enough. Not even close.
“But there’s video evidence.” My voice was sharp, edged with something dangerously close to rage. “You’ve seen it. You know exactly what he did. How the fuck is he not in custody?”
Barnes exhaled. “Unfortunately, video evidence doesn’t tell us where he is. It doesn’t help us with actually catching him.”
“Then fucking find him. You know his name, his job, his face. He shouldn’t be that hard to track down.”
Harris squared her shoulders. “We understand your frustration, Mr. Graves. We’re doing everything we can.”
I inhaled slowly, forcing my shoulders to drop, peeling my fists open finger by finger. Now wasn’t the time for fury.
Right now, Lilith needed something steady, something soft.
She needed me. Not my rage.
“Okay.” The word tasted like surrender, but I said it anyway. “Let me walk you out.”
I led them to the elevator, pressing the button. The doors opened with a soft chime, and they stepped inside.
“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” I asked, not bothering to hide the weight in my voice.
Harris turned to meet my eyes. “Look after her.”