Chapter Twenty – Thea
I want to say seeing Max helped me feel better, but the ride home was the opposite of enlightening. The whole night was weird, and it probably is the reason my dreams that night are full of odd scenes that make no sense together.
Me and Max at home, having a cookout and inviting Silus and Roark. As if that would ever happen. Another scene was me working at the club I first met Silus in, and Silus being my boss—obviously, also super weird. And another…
Well, the last dream I have before I wake up is me standing in a field of flowers in front of a small house in the middle of nowhere, nothing but greenery everywhere you look. Just a quick little dream, no real substance to it, and yet it weighs on me the most when I wake up.
That, and everything that was said last night, not only between me and Max, but also between Silus and me in the car. The car sex was hot, not going to lie, but the rest of it—the way he held onto me, how husky his voice was when he told me he never wanted to let me go…
I got caught up in the moment. That’s all. That’s the only reason I told him not to let me go. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.
I can’t fall in love with Silus McLean. It’s dumb. It’s stupid. He’s the worst man I could fall for in this entire city, except maybe his brother and that Cormac guy. Men like Silus don’t fall in love. It’s all obsession until that obsession breaks and he’s done with you.
Although, I guess I wouldn’t know, since I’ve never been in this situation before…
Ugh. I hate this.
The next day, I wake up and shower. I find Silus in the kitchen next to a stack of pancakes and a glass of orange juice, all of which he brings to the table before he tells me to sit. He grabs me a fork and a knife and sets it onto a napkin in front of me, literally acting like he’s my servant or something.
“Eat,” he instructs. “I have a few errands to run today, so I won’t be home until later. Be sure not to skip lunch—you’re too skinny. Make whatever you want. The fridge is full.” His hand grabs my chin, forces me to turn toward him, and his tall frame leans down as he places a quick kiss on my mouth.
It’s only after the kiss, only after he releases his hold on my chin that I can say, “You’re leaving?”
“Yes. Like I said, I have errands.”
I study the massive stack of pancakes and the tall glass of orange juice. He made all of this specifically for me, not for us to share. It’s sweet, if a little much; there’s no way I can eat all of it. That’s when the rest of what he said hits me. “You’re leaving me alone here? But—”
“You can handle it, can’t you? If you prefer, I suppose I could lock you in your room, for old time’s sake. Or I could bring some of my men here and have them babysit you. Is that what you want, Thea?” The way he asks the question, it’s clear he already knows the answer.
“No,” I quickly say. “I can handle it. Go run your errands or whatever. I’ll be here.” Besides, I think we already covered the fact that I wouldn’t know where to go because I don’t know where Max is being held—and I’m not selfish enough to risk his life just for a shot at freedom.
He smirks at me and says, “Good girl.” Silus says nothing else as he walks away, leaving me to enjoy my pancakes and orange juice by myself. Soon enough I hear him leave the condo, and I am, for the first time, alone.
Alone and free.
As free as I can be, given the circumstances, but it’s free enough.
I eat as much as I can without overly stuffing myself, finish off the orange juice, and then clean up. Silus already put away the dishes he dirtied to make the pancakes, so it doesn’t take too long for me to scrape off my plate and add it to the dishwasher.
And then I’m clueless as to what I should do. Granted, it’s not like I have the whole world at my fingertips, but it sure does feel like it after being stuck in that room for so long. I pace the kitchen and living room area a bit before I decide what to do.
What am I going to do, you might be wondering? What anyone else in my position would do.
I’m going to snoop.
I’ve got nothing better to do besides watch TV while sitting on the couch, and that can wait until after I snoop around a bit. My legs take me to Silus’s room, where I’ve only spent a little time—and mainly that time was beneath Silus, so I didn’t have much of a chance to really take it all in.
It’s a lot of black, although the black looks more gray thanks to the windows on the far wall. Black sheets, black furniture, a black ceiling fan. Again, all black. I check his dressers, just to be nosey, and I find nothing but more clothes. Not sure if I was looking for any trophies of past women who may have found themselves in my place, but there’s nothing.
I go into his closet and find suits and shirts hanging up, perfectly pressed without a wrinkle in sight. The man really does dress to impress. I guess when you’re a mafia boss you don’t want people to think you’re a run-of-the-mill criminal, so you have to dress like you’re a Fortune 500 CEO.
All in all, there’s nothing remarkable in his room. No hidden secrets tucked away, nothing that makes me stop and wonder. It’s almost like the man is an open book, that he’s got nothing to hide—but that’s silly, isn’t it? He’s a freaking mafia boss, for fuck’s sake. Surely he has shit he never wants to see the light of day.
Although, maybe if he has something to hide, he keeps those secrets in his office and not in his bedroom. He’s not a fifteen-year-old girl with a diary. He’s the head of a criminal syndicate that runs this city. One of the heads, anyway.
Determined to find something that will snap some sense into me and make me realize just how stupid it is to fall in love with a man like Silus, I go to his office to continue my mission. I won’t stop until I find something. Hell, I’ll take anything at this point. Something to slap me in the face, something that points to Silus being a puppy-killer or something.
God, I need this. I just… I need this. If I can’t find anything, if Silus really is an open book, then… fuck, I’m so screwed. I’m screwed every which way. At the rate I’m going, I’m going to be popping out babies for him left and right.
What can I say? The man is drop-dead sexy. He’s gorgeous. All those tattoos and the muscles… he really gets me going. I didn’t even flip him off when he called me a good girl before he left. Obviously, he’s affecting me in ways I can’t begin to describe.
I sit in his high-backed leather chair. It’s comfier than it looks, but I’m not here to doze off in his office. I’m here to snoop and find some shit.
His desk drawers, his bookcases; I search it all. I find a laptop but I don’t have the password, so hacking isn’t a possibility. Records of various businesses—stupidly stereotypical ones, too—are all I can find: pizza shops, dry cleaners, etcetera.
Pizza shops? Really?
I try to put everything back the way I found it so it’s not obvious I snooped and totally invaded Silus’s privacy. I’m standing in front of a bookcase, debating whether or not I should go through each and every book I see when I hear someone come into the condo.
Shit. Is that Silus? Was this all a test? Fuckity fuck fuck. If it’s a test, I failed it.
I race out of his office so he doesn’t catch me in there; I can only imagine how upset he’ll be if he finds out I looked through everything I could. I hurry through the hall and emerge into the living room, my mouth open and an excuse ready on my tongue.
But the man who entered the condo isn’t Silus. He wears a ski mask. You know, the black kind with three little holes, two for the eyes and one for the mouth? One of those. The front door is still open, and two more men funnel inside after him.
I debate on running, but it’s too late. The first man’s head whips in my direction; I’m already noticed. So, I awkwardly wave at them and say, “Hey. Uh, I think you have the wrong condo. This condo belongs to Silus McLean, so you should probably—” I stop talking when the three men barrel toward me.
Literally, they run at me, like they didn’t come here to steal shit.
No… it’s like they came here to steal me .
“We know exactly who owns it,” the first man speaks, his voice muffled in the mask. His friends wear the same mask, and a part of me wants to insult them on their choice of mask—so cliché, you know? But I can’t say a word, because the moment the man reaches me, he pulls something out of his pocket and holds it over my face.
A semi-fruity smell is all that greets me before my head gets heavy and I pass out.