33. Just Pretend #2
I held his gaze prisoner with my own. “Because I’m asking you not to,” I breathed.
I was wrong before. Silas hadn’t seen me at my worst until now. Sharing this secret, and worse, asking him to keep it with me, had me more vulnerable than when I laid bare beneath him, when he reduced me to nothing with his body. This was the real me, scars and all.
And God, I was so terrified of showing it.
Silas frowned and broke the connection of our eyes. Silence overcame us both once again.
“Please,” I whimpered, feeling sick. I was prepared to do anything to ensure his secrecy.
I would rewind time if I could, tell myself to shut the fuck up and suffer in silence.
My fingers worked their way to his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breathing.
He watched as I trailed my touch down his tie, tugging it slightly.
I brought him forward until our noses brushed.
The air shifted between us. Heat.
“I’ll do anything,” I whispered, and I meant it.
He knew.
Silas’s hands grasped my hips tightly. “Do you even understand how badly I crave you? You’re in my mind. Every fucking minute of every day. I hate that I need you.”
His words pierced me like knives.
“And you’re asking me,” his jaw tensed, “you’re begging me, to just pretend like I don’t know that someone has hurt you, so brutally? To return to life like normal while you stay under his roof?”
My lips quivered. “Yes.”
Silas let go of an unnatural sound, aiming to pull out of my grasp. “I can’t fucking do that, Noah! You can’t expect me to–”
My hands shot to his face, holding him steady. “You have to, Silas. Please. For me. If for no other reason, then do this for me.”
We were both frozen in that position for a long time, eyes dancing.
Pain or not, I decided, if he wanted me, he could have me.
He craved me? He could take his fill. I wanted to forget the whole conversation, to push the pain and the embarrassment of this moment away.
There was no better way to do that, then to submerge myself in pleasure.
All of a sudden, Silas shrugged my hands away with a shift of his torso.
“I’m going home,” he stated, unwilling to look at me anymore.
“What?” I uttered with a scoff, my hands lowering to my sides in slow motion. For the first time in my life, I felt what I assumed to be the sharp pang of rejection. I couldn’t even hide my emotions anymore. I was sure the scorn covered my face. “Can’t stand the sight of me, or something?”
Silas stopped mid stride to the window. He pressed his fingers into his temples. “Noah, that’s not it at all.”
“Then what is it?” I growled, retracting to my bed. “You don’t want anything to do with me now that you know my past?” I waited, receiving no answer.
I should have known, telling him would change his perception of me. Why wouldn’t it? I was revolting.
I sneered through fresh tears. “Does it sicken you?”
“Yes, your father sickens me,” Silas retorted. “Not you. You didn’t ask for this.”
My eyes met the ground. “Well, life’s a bitch like that, isn’t it?”
Silas did an about face, in one swift motion, and crossed the room back to where I sat.
He placed an arm on either side of me, pressing forward so that I was forced to bend back into the sheets.
His mouth found mine—a brief and delayed greeting.
He pulled away too quickly for my enjoyment, his eyebrows scrunching together in an emotion I couldn’t place.
“I’m not leaving because of you, Noah. I’m leaving because of me,” he explained.
I rolled my eyes, exhausted. “You don’t make any fucking sense.”
“Then allow me to clarify it for you,” Silas avowed, his voice was the low thunder rolling in before the storm.
My eyes drifted up to him from my position below his body. He bent his head down until his lips were grazing mine as he spoke.
“If I don’t leave now,” he mouthed each word with precision. “I am going to kill your father.”
I stared at him stupidly. I had no words.
“Then as he bleeds out, and takes his last breath, I’m going to fuck you. Here.” Silas patted the bed next to my thigh.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until a sharp exhale escaped my lips.
Silas watched me carefully, gauging my reactions, and waiting for my response.
I knew his eyes were looking into my soul, his pupils shrinking to the tiniest black dots amongst a sea of silvery madness.
I was lost there, caught somewhere between horror and excitement—a new high.
Was it really that easy?
He reached up, taking my chin between his fingers. His head cocked to the side, ever so slightly, as if considering something.
“Do you want me to kill him?” he asked huskily, eyebrows lifting in suggestion, never once breaking eye contact as he did so. His undertone was stern and sinister, and the goosebumps that rose on my arms at the question confirmed that my answer might strike his match, light his fire.
I was confident that if I said yes, Silas would do it. He’d kill.
Kill for me.
Perhaps, he even wanted to.
In my entire life, I’d never felt more powerful than I did right then.
I was a King.
“No.” I found my voice and responded, somehow, without falter or shake.
Silas closed the sliver of the gap between us and pressed his lips to mine. My body instantly filled with urgency, warmth, and chaos. Perfect chaos that only he brought to me.
Before I could wrap my arms around him, he pulled away and gave one last gentle caress of the cut beneath my eye. He stood up, and I watched, as he headed to the other side of the room.
I clutched my arms around my body.
I didn’t have to hear the soft lift of the window to know that Silas was climbing through it, back into the darkness from which he first appeared.
And where he should stay, I thought bitterly.
I stood, pacing the room. I couldn’t begin to calm the emotions within me. How could I be so stupid? Why didn’t I just shut my fucking mouth?
I was losing control.
I roared in frustration, slamming my fist into the drywall, feeling it chip beneath my knuckles.
The pain rushed into me, bringing me back to life, reminding me of what I was good for.
I clenched and unclenched my jaw, pushing every single thought of Silas away, until only one thought was clear in my mind.
I really wanted a smoke.
SILAS
I had to get out of there.
If I stayed one more second, I was going to explode. As is, my dash was taking a beating from my fist—over, and over again I slammed my hands against it. I was livid. I wanted to destroy something, and right now, I could only hope my airbags didn’t deploy.
I couldn’t believe Noah went through this alone.
I couldn’t believe he’d been living this nightmare…alone.
My mind was still unsure of how to process what was happening. Noah had been raped. More than once. Recently. By his own father.
I didn’t have a father.
But even the man who donated his DNA to construct my existence hadn’t hurt me in such a way as Noah’s.
Then Noah went and placed another layer of stress on my shoulders. As much as I couldn’t stand Damian, I was the biggest advocate for telling him about this. As much as I hated to say it, I knew he had Noah’s best interests in mind. I wanted to tell him. But Noah wouldn’t let me.
Why? Was there something I was missing?
How was I supposed to even move forward with this secret?
I don’t, I think. I don’t move forward.
I’d remove the roadblock. I’d fix the fucking problem.
I would kill David Hansen, whether Noah wanted me to, or not.