Chapter 18 Silas
SILAS
“What the fuck?” I’m on my feet in an instant. I set Ophelia on the couch and drape the dust cloth over her lap, covering her as I tug my pants closed.
“Well, Phee, this is certainly not what I expected out of you,” Sly Fox says to Ophelia who is staring wide-eyed, face burning red. “You, though? Well,” he gestures to the police officers who enter. I grab my shirt up off the floor, tug it on. “You I’d expect no less from.”
“Mr. Cruz, you’ll need to come with us.” One of the cops moves behind me, while the other two flank me.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask.
“Really? As if you don’t know?” Sly asks, gaze shifting to Ophelia. He shakes his head. “It’s evil, what you’ve done to that girl.”
“Sir, we need to head to the station,” a policeman says, taking my arm.
“What for?” I tug free.
“Cuff him,” Sly tells them as Ethan picks up Ophelia’s dress and throws it at her.
“Get dressed, for fuck’s sake,” Ethan snaps, noticing the ruby choker on the stool and sliding it into his pocket.
“Mr. Cruz, let’s go.”
“I said cuff him,” Sly says and one of the officers takes out his handcuffs.
“What’s going on?” Ophelia asks. She stands and wraps the dust cloth around herself. I look over at her, those tears still wet on her cheeks and I realize I’ll never know what she was about to say. When she meets my eyes, I see fear in hers.
“There’s been a fire,” Ethan says, moving toward her, gaze roaming over her, his lip curled in disgust.
I want to step between them, to keep him from getting too close to her, but one of the officers cuffs me while the other two grip my arms and keep me from her.
“What fire?” Ophelia asks.
Ethan sneers at me. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but whatever it is, it’s a win for him.
“You didn’t mention it before you fucked her?” he asks.
I tug at my arms to get to her but the officers tighten their hold on me.
“No, I guess you wouldn’t.” He takes a step toward Ophelia and she takes one backward. “Guess that would dampen the mood.” He turns to his father. “Get him out of here, Dad. I can’t stand to look at him.”
Sly gestures to the officers who begin to walk me to the door, but I resist. “What the fuck is going on?”
“You screwed up this time, Silas,” Ethan says. “The security system on the Hart house was still operating, but I’m guessing you didn’t know that.”
No. No I did not. Ophelia looks at me, her brow furrowed.
“What are you talking about?” she asks Ethan.
“Your boyfriend here… wait, do I call him a boyfriend? A fuck buddy? What?”
“You fucking bastard!” It takes all three of the officers to hold me back.
“Ethan. Enough,” Sly says then, to Ophelia. “There was a fire, my dear.”
“What fire?” Ophelia asks.
“At your house.”
A beat passes before Ophelia’s face goes white. “What?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Sly says, not sounding sorry at all. “It’s gone. Burned to the ground.”
“I don’t understand.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“You’ve lost everything,” Ethan tacks on for good measure.
I look at Ophelia’s stricken expression.
“And guess who the cameras picked up walking out of there just two hours ago?” Ethan announces victoriously.
Ophelia turns to me, mouth agape.
“Yeah, O.” Ethan tells her. “Silas here is all over it. He burnt down your house then came here to fuck you before you found out. I guess technically he fucked you twice.”
She only stares up at me and I stare back. She can’t believe I’d do that, surely. Why would I? All their things were still inside that house. All their memories. Their history.
“Is that true?” she asks me.
I don’t answer. I can’t. How is this possible?
“Get him out of here,” Sly says and checks his watch as if he’s on some schedule. “We need to get back to our guests. We have an announcement to make, after all.”
Ethan grasps Ophelia’s wrist and I hear her cry out. I struggle against the officers as they move me toward the door but all I can do is watch Ethan slip the ring back on her finger.
“No!” I call out too late. “You can’t fucking take me in without arresting me!” I resist and it’s a wonder we don’t all go toppling down the stairs.
Once we’re in the corridor, the door leading up to that room, to Ophelia, slams shut.
The music has stopped, and all the whispers are hushed as every guest falls silent and watches me being hauled away in handcuffs.
I’m the show to watch now. Mira stands smug, barely able to control the pleased grin on her face as I’m dragged past her.
“Silas!” Nigella runs to me once we’re in the lobby. She was still here, her flight back not until the morning.
“Ma’am. Clear the way,” an officer tells her.
“I’m this man’s lawyer. What are the charges?”
“Nigella,” I want her attention. There’s a more pressing matter than me being taken down to the station.
She turns to me as the officers struggle to get me moving again.
“In my SUV. There’s a locked box in the trunk. I need you to get into it and figure out what’s in there. Keys are in my jacket pocket upstairs.” I gesture to the door we came from. “That’s your priority.”
She nods and I am dragged from The Sinistral out into the freezing night, my shirt barely on, any asshole who is anyone watching, and the woman I think I love—no, the woman I know I love, the woman who just gave herself to me so wholly—up in that den of snakes alone and unprotected and thinking I betrayed her.