4. Silas
Silas
I rub the bridge of my nose, trying to ease the pressure building behind my eyes, but it does nothing to shift the exhaustion that’s been dragging at me for weeks.
Jack keeps pushing through my thoughts instead. The bruises I’ve noticed lately, the scratches on his arms and face—he brushed them off as bakery accidents, but I’ve spent too many years around violence to mistake the difference between clumsy slips and marks left by fists and fingernails.
Surely he isn’t fighting again. There’s no reason for him to go back to that life, not now, not after everything he has been through.
When he gets home, I’ll sit him down and talk to him, no accusations or assumptions, just a chance for him to tell me what’s going on.
Upstairs, Hale is finally asleep, worn out from hockey training. I’d watched him earlier from the parents’ section while he tore across the ice with that huge grin of his, laughing like the world had never touched him.
He lights up out there, looks like any other ten-year-old, and I fucking love that. After everything he’s been through, more than any kid should ever have to endure, he deserves moments like that. He deserves to feel safe enough to forget, even for an hour, that life hasn’t always been kind to him.
The nightmares haven’t stopped, though. His screams still drag me out of sleep more nights than not, and I do what I can for him, but some things I just can’t fix.
I’ve talked to him about seeing a therapist, but he refuses every time, shutting down before I can get more than a sentence out. I’ve thought about asking Eli and Finn to try, but I won’t push him; Hale’s had enough adults making choices for him.
If he needs help, I’ll make sure he gets it, and I’ll let him decide when he’s ready.
Hale likes me to check the house before he goes to bed. Every night he follows me while I lock the doors, making sure each window is shut, walking the perimeter. He will only climb into bed once he’s satisfied everything is secure.
Which is fair enough, especially after what happened to him. If checking the house twice gives him peace of mind, I’ll check it twice. Hell, I’ll check it ten times if that’s what he needs.
I force myself off the couch with a sigh and drag a hand over my face before heading down the dim hallway toward my bedroom.
I strip off my watch and clothes, kicking everything into the corner because I’m too tired to care about the laundry basket.
I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Right now, all I want is a few hours of sleep.
I switch off the light and collapse face-first onto the mattress. I haven’t even closed my eyes when my phone rings.
The sharp sound cuts through the silence, and my head snaps upright.
“Fucks sake,” I swear under my breath as I reach for the phone quickly before it wakes Hale. I frown at the Vancouver number, and my stomach drops.
Jack.
I swipe across the screen and press the phone to my ear. “Jack?”
“Mr. Thorne?”
“Yes.” I stand at the urgency in her voice.
“My name is Nurse Evans. I’m calling from Surrey Memorial Hospital.
We’re trying to reach someone named Silas.
A patient was admitted this evening. I’m sorry, I don’t have a last name, but he says his name is Jack Cross.
He has no identification on him, so I can’t give you much more information.
Do you happen to know a man named Jack who would be in Vancouver? ”
The room seems to tilt around me.
“I’m Silas, and I know Jack.” I sit upright, every trace of sleep disappearing. “Black hair. Has a scar on his chin. What happened?”
“That’s him.” Her pause lasts half a second too long. She sighs down the phone, and I hear the rustling of papers before she speaks.
“Jack was brought into our Emergency Department a couple of hours ago after being found unresponsive on a side road outside the city. He’s sustained a concussion from head trauma.
His throat is extremely bruised, and he has several cracked and fractured ribs along with extensive soft tissue bruising.
He was also suffering from hypothermia due to exposure. ”
I grip the edge of the mattress until my knuckles turn white.
“I’m sorry to tell you this, Mr. Thorne, but it appears he was beaten and left for dead.”
For several seconds, all I hear is the blood rushing through my ears.
“What the hell do you mean, beaten and left for dead?” I’m already pulling out my drawers, grabbing whatever clean clothes I can reach.
“Is he stable?” The words scrape out of a throat that has gone bone-dry, my hands shaking so hard I can barely get my shirt over my head.
“He is. We have him sedated, so he’s sleeping for now, but it would be good if you can get here as soon as possible. He woke briefly earlier and specifically asked that we contact you.”
I close my eyes, worry creasing my brow. Jack is thousands of miles away, beaten nearly to death and abandoned in the dark while I’d been sitting on my couch worrying about a few fucking bruises.
“I’ll be on the first flight out,” I say, and my voice sounds nothing like me. It’s too calm. Too controlled. The kind of calm that usually comes right before something breaks. “Keep him stable. I’m coming.”
“Thank you, Mr. Thorne. We’ll see you when you get here.”
* * *
I hang up, grabbing my go-bag from the wardrobe.
I snatch Hale’s from beside the door as I pass his room.
Tossing everything by the front door, I head back to his room, pushing his bedroom door open.
Hale is sprawled face down on the bed, snoring softly, completely oblivious to the panic screaming through my veins.
I shake my head at the thought and reach for Hale, gently touching his shoulder.
“Hale?” He shifts beneath my hand, and I shake his shoulder again. “Hale, wake up, buddy. We gotta go.”
His eyes open, heavy with sleep. “What’s wrong?”
“We gotta go, buddy. I’ve gotta drop you off at CJ and Eli’s.” I pull the blanket off him and head for the door, adrenaline already burning through my exhaustion. “Come on, it’s urgent, we gotta move.”
The change is immediate. He takes one look at my face before jumping out of bed, sleep forgotten, and I leave him as he starts pulling on clothes without another question.
He knows me well enough to recognize when something is wrong, and whatever he sees in my expression tells him this isn’t the time to ask questions.
Five minutes later, we’re in the truck with the go-bags thrown into the back seat. I tear down the road, gripping the steering wheel while the streetlights flash across the windshield.
“I’m going to be honest with you, buddy.”
Hale nods, turning his body toward me.
I pull in a deep breath and force myself to speak gently, giving him the bad news as carefully as I can. “Jack’s in the hospital in Vancouver. I got the call fifteen minutes ago. I have to go get him.”
His throat moves as he swallows, his eyes wide and already shining with tears. “Is he okay?”
I stare at him for a moment. “I don’t know.”
His face crumples, and he starts crying quietly, his shoulders shaking as he tries to hold himself together. That’s when I see him for what he is beneath everything he’s survived.
He’s a ten-year-old boy, a child, and right now, he looks every bit of it.
“He has to be okay, Silas.” His voice breaks. “He has to come home.”
“I know, buddy,” I say, my voice cracking with tears that burn the back of my throat.
We pull up to CJ and Eli’s, and I pull Hale against my chest and hold him tight, feeling his small body shake as he clings to me.
“I’m going to bring him home, Hale. He’ll be okay, he’s a fighter, and he’s fucking stubborn.
” I pull back and rest my forehead against his, grounding both of us.
“He’ll be okay, buddy. I promise, I’ll bring him home. ”
He nods, tears still tracking down his cheeks.
A porch light slices through the darkness, and I lean back. “Come on,” I say, climbing out of the truck. I grab Hale’s bag before heading toward the house.
“CJ,” I call out as he stands on the porch, gun in hand. He’s awake even at this hour. Always ready for anything.
“Hey, brother.” I walk up the stairs, tightening my grip on the bag. “I need your help.”
He looks over my shoulder at Hale walking up the path and nods. “Come on in.”
Following Hale inside, Eli meets us at the bottom of the stairs.
Ruby sits quietly beside him, but the second she sees Hale, she moves straight toward him.
He drops to one knee, and she immediately starts licking his face.
He manages a small smile, burying his face in her fur.
She lays her head on his shoulder, and I hear his tears start to fall, the sounds hitting me hard, sharp enough to steal my breath. I let him have his moment.
Eli smiles at me, then leans down to Hale. “Come on, Hale. Let’s get you and Ruby to bed.”
Hale turns to me, and I lay my hand on his shoulder. “I’ll bring him home. I promise.”
He gives me a small nod, wraps his fingers around Ruby’s fur, and climbs the stairs, following Eli.
I look at CJ, who tilts his head toward the lounge. “Let’s talk.”
I drop Hale’s bag at the steps and follow him into the room.
“What do you need?”
I pull in a deep breath. “Jack’s in the hospital in Vancouver. I got the call fifteen minutes ago.” My breathing quickens with every word. “I don’t know anything except he was beaten and left for dead. I need to go to him, but I can’t take Hale.”
CJ nods and puts a steady hand on my shoulder. “We’ve got him, brother. You go do what you need to do.”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be, but I’m bringing him home,” I say, heading to the front door.
“He can stay for as long as he needs, and if he needs anything from the house, we’ll grab it,” CJ says, following me to the door as I open it. “He’ll be safe here. You have my word.”
“Thanks,” I call out as I head to my truck. Climbing in, I pull up Callan’s name and hit send. The ringing fills the cab as I pull out, heading to the helipad in the hope that Callan will come through with my request.