25. Silas
Chapter 25
Silas
“ Y ou look rough,” Bianca says quietly as we make our way back toward the camp on foot. We’d had to change back into our dirty clothes, but at least they’re mostly dry now.
“Yeah, I think Michael enjoyed taking some swings at me.” I reach up and gently touch my sensitive cheekbone. I’d wanted him to make it look like we were attacked, so when I insist on talking only to River, it’ll make it look that much more pertinent.
And the former boxer turned Army Ranger definitely delivered.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not the worst I’ve experienced,” I reply. The truth is, the fear in my gut is a whole lot worse than the pain in my face. I’m terrified that this plan is going to fail. That in the failure, I’ll lose everything that matters.
Bianca.
My cousins.
Michael.
Elijah.
My life—and therefore the chance to see Eloise grow up.
So many things at stake, and all because, once again, I can’t allow myself to be freed while another is in chains. I think of that day I escaped the jungle. Of the calling I felt to save Bianca.
I feel the same thing now, only instead of one woman, it’s an entire village of people far more deserving of freedom than I am.
“Listen.” I stop walking. “If this goes sideways, I need you to promise me you’ll save as many as you can—including yourself.”
She tilts her face up to look at me, and the sun catches some bright strands in her otherwise dark hair. “Silas, it’s all going to be fine.”
“Please?”
She reaches up and cups my face, her hands running over a short beard courtesy of being unable to shave for three weeks. “We’ve been through a lot together, wouldn’t you say?”
“That’s an understatement.”
“First, Lucian’s compound, then tracking Michael, the hurricane, this?—”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that we’ve survived it all.”
“We can’t live forever.”
“No,” she replies. “We can’t.”
I lean in, resting my forehead against hers. I want so badly to kiss her. To feel her lips on mine, but doing so when I’m not sure we’ll even survive this feels wrong. It feels like a potential mistake that’s just going to make it even harder for her to do what she needs to do, if leaving me behind is the only way to save herself.
“Can we pray?” I’m almost afraid to ask it, afraid that the request will sound foolish coming out of my mouth after all of the doubt over the past few weeks.
“We absolutely can,” Bianca replies without hesitation.
“Can you do it? I’m still new to this.”
Bianca smiles. “I am, too, but yes. I can. Dear Lord, we ask that You wrap us in Your protection as we walk back into the camp. Please guide us so that we may free those who are being held there, and so that we can make it back home safely. Please work through us, Lord, and let Your will be done. Amen.”
“Amen,” I repeat.
“Amen, brother,” Michael, Elijah, and my cousins all say in tandem through the earpiece I’m wearing.
A lump in my throat makes it almost impossible to breathe, but as I pull away, I linger near Bianca for just a moment. “I need you to survive,” I tell her.
“I need you to survive,” she repeats. “We have unfinished business, Williamson.”
Chuckling, I pull away. “You’re not wrong there.” Straightening, I face the direction of the camp. We’re close, only about a quarter mile away, but the sun has already sunk on the horizon, and with each passing moment, it gets darker and darker. Which will be great for Bradyn and the others to sneak in, but not so good for us walking along the barren road. “Let’s do this.”
We begin walking again, and I think back to the last time I saw my cousins. It was at Sierra’s funeral. They’d driven in from the family ranch. While Bradyn and Dylan had gone back right after to tend to their brand-new business, Elliot, Riley, and Tucker stayed behind to help me go through Sierra and her husband’s things.
They’d helped me with Eloise those first few weeks, and without them, I’m not sure I would’ve survived the grief that threatened to drown me. They’d spoken of God to me then, too, all of them believers.
But I’d ignored them, choosing instead to wallow in my own anger.
How many years did I spend as a bitter man, hellbent on living my life in misery because I felt I didn’t deserve any joy? Even the happiness I’ve found watching Eloise grow filled me with guilt because my sister was missing so many milestones in her daughter’s life.
Will my cousins suffer the same fate as her tonight?
Or will they survive?
What about Michael? With Reyna back home, he’s likely going to be starting a family soon. What if he doesn’t get the chance? What about Elijah? What if he never gets to return to Andie and she’s forced to bury another loved one?
As though she can sense my panic, Bianca reaches down and threads her fingers through mine. When I look at her, she smiles, and a sense of peace settles over me.
It’s going to be okay.
It has to be okay.
“Stop right there!”
Both Bianca and I freeze. She pulls her hand from mine and puts both up in the air. I do the same as two of River’s guards come rushing toward us, the tactical lights at the end of their weapons blinding.
“What are you doing out here? Where’s your detail?”
“Gone,” I reply. “And I can’t say anything else until I speak to River.”
My cousin Dylan is recording everything that’s said, and with any luck, we’ll not only free the imprisoned, but we’ll also have enough evidence to put River Culvers away for good.
If we survive, that is.
“You’ll tell us what we want to know,” the guard says, then slams the butt of his rifle into my stomach. I groan, bile burning me from the inside.
“Stop it!” Bianca yells.
“You have no say. Tell us where your detail is,” he growled. “Or you’re next. Woman or not, makes no difference to me.”
I step in front of her, my stomach still burning. “You won’t lay a finger on her. And as for your buddies? They’re likely rotting away in some enemy camp right now.”
“What do you mean, enemy camp?”
“Look at my face,” I say, pointing to the bruises courtesy of Michael.
“You’re welcome,” he says in my ear.
“We didn’t all make it back,” I repeat. “Now, I want to speak with River.”
The guard narrows his gaze on me but grabs me by the arm and yanks me forward. The second one grips Bianca’s arm and tugs her too. Her gaze briefly finds mine, but then we both focus straight ahead as we’re escorted back through the large metal gates.
The area’s empty, though that’s to be expected given the lateness of the hour. Curfew has likely been enacted already, and anyone out would be subject to River’s brand of questioning.
The guards lead us toward the house and up the porch steps. One raises his fist and knocks on the door. A few seconds pass in silence before it’s opened, and Yarrow is standing on the other side, a massive grin on his face. “Just in time!” he exclaims, then grabs Bianca and pulls her into the house.
I’m shoved in from behind, barely managing to catch my footing to keep from falling over.
Yarrow tugs Bianca through the house, his mood so vastly different than typical that it sets my nerves on edge. What changed? Is it that they met their quota? I think back to the empty streets.
Is it possible we’re too late?
He pulls her into the dining room, and she gasps, then tries to step backward. He wraps an arm around her throat and keeps her exactly where she stands. I rush forward, only to have the cool barrel of a pistol pressed to the back of my neck.
“I’d slow down if I were you,” a voice I don’t recognize says. “Wouldn’t want to spoil the fun just yet, would we? Move.”
I do as he says and continue forward, stopping right beside Bianca.
River’s tied to a chair directly across from us, his chest covered in blood, while a man to his right eats dinner. River is clearly dead, but hasn’t been for long as the blood is still wet on his chest.
The man wipes his mouth with a fabric napkin, then turns to face us—and smiles.
The recognition is instant because he’s the older version of Yarrow. A man with the same features, the same darkness in his gaze. Only less wild. The father is calculated while the son is rash.
“Well, well, well, what have we here?” he asks, fully facing us.
“This is my fiancée, father,” Yarrow says. “Selena Culvers.”
“Selena Culvers. She’s a bit dirty, but a looker.”
I start to step forward, but the man behind me tugs me back. Herman shifts his gaze to me. “And who are you?”
“The SEAL,” Yarrow replies, clearly disgusted.
“A big boy, aren’t you? Tall. Filled out. Want a job? I could use a new head of the Culvers organization. More of a management position, really. You can even keep her.” He gestures to Bianca. “My gift to you since, from what I hear, you’re fond of her.”
“I’ll pass,” I snap. “Why did you kill him?”
“His usefulness ran out,” Herman replies. “The question is, where were you two?”
“Bianca had a fever, I took her to a spring to cool her down.”
“And who is Bianca?”
“Me,” she replies.
“I thought your name was Selena.” He looks from her to his son.
“She changed her name,” Yarrow explains. “But I prefer Selena.” He presses a noisy kiss to her temple, and I lunge forward again.
Pain explodes in the back of my head as I’m brought to my knees, the barrel of the gun now pressed against my temple. “I told you to remain where you were,” the man orders.
I look up at him now. He’s tall, likely nearly as tall as I am, his hair bleached white, his dark eyes near black. He looks like a loose cannon, like a man who enjoys causing pain. Something I recognize because River had the same look in his eye as he tortured me all those years ago.
“Easy there, Frank, we can’t be killing him just yet. He might prove useful.” Herman stands, and the maid we haven’t seen since our first night here rushes in to collect his plate. She’s careful to not look at River’s body, though her complexion is incredibly pale.
“It’s true,” Yarrow says. “She was sick. I looked into it myself.”
“I’m sure she was.” The way Herman eyes Bianca makes my skin crawl. I want to rewind time and force her to stay back at camp.
Lord, if You’re listening, please help us. Please keep me strong so I can save them.
“The question is,” Herman says, “what to do with you both.”
“Do not harm Selena,” Yarrow replies. “She’s my fiancée. And he can’t have her.”
“You don’t need to marry a Culvers anymore, Yarrow. They’re trash. They always have been.”
“Not this one,” he replies. “She’s mine. I want to keep her.”
He’s talking about her like she’s a toy. An animal to be kept in captivity. The shift in Yarrow’s personality is so vast, it’s hard to even comprehend that this is the same man who was River’s number two, when right now he’s behaving like a spoiled and incompetent child.
“We’ll discuss it later. That one needs to be put down if he’s not going to help, though.” He points to me. “I can see that he’ll be trouble.”
“I’ll do it,” Yarrow offers with a gleeful smile. “Happily.”
“No.”
“You don’t get to speak,” Yarrow tells Bianca, crushing her back against his chest.
“We’re moving into place,” Michael says through the earpiece. “Stay alive a bit longer.”
“Nearly there,” Bradyn confirms. “How are the charges?”
“Set and armed,” Elijah replies.
As they converse in my ear, I do my best to hide my excitement. This will all be over in mere minutes.
We just have to survive for a short period of time, and then we’ll be done.
“Hold her,” Yarrow tells the man he called Frank. He hesitates a second, but Herman nods, so Frank grabs Bianca by the arm. Yarrow releases her as I get to my feet. “River believed you were an untamable force,” he tells me. “The man thought you had the strength of ten and the willpower of twice that.”
“What a nice compliment,” I sneer.
“I see you for what you are though. Weak. Pathetic. A coward trying too hard to play hero. Hold him.”
Two men grip my arms. “You seem awfully worried for a man who believes me to be a coward.”
“Yarrow, don’t,” Bianca pleads. “Leave him be.”
“He doesn’t have it in him to do anything,” I tell her, though I keep my gaze trained firmly on Yarrow. I’ll take his anger. His wrath. Because I’m strong enough to do both. After all, I am the distraction.
He slams his fist into my gut. The pain shoots straight through me, but aside from a small grunt, I do what I can to hide it.
“Is that all?” I ask.
Yarrow hits me again, this time striking my face. “How’s that feel, SEAL? Strong man?”
Warmth trickles from my lip. I smile through it. Never in my life have I felt such calmness in the face of a storm. Such peace in the midst of what should be fear. Is this what faith is? Knowing that my fate is in the hands of the One who created everything? And if that’s so, what do I have to fear?
Yarrow hits me again.
Again.
Striking me with such ferocity I can feel his growing anger with each and every blow. Bianca begs for him to stop, but I say nothing.
I take my licks. Letting each of them connect because soon?—
“Fire in the hole!” Bradyn yells in my ear.
Boom.
The explosion rocks the house we’re in.
Windows shatter, and Yarrow pales. “What was that?” he demands, turning toward his father, who’s staring at me with palpable rage.
“Ask your friend.”
Yarrow whirls on me. “What was that?” he demands again.
I meet his gaze, even though my vision is a bit blurry from the hits, and smile. “The cavalry.”