Chapter 17
Silas
Isat quietly. The lighting was dim. A vanilla bean candle sat before me on the coffee table, casting shadows that danced against the walls.
The flickering flame mirrored the chaos that ensued within the deepest parts of my psyche—uncertainty, fear, and an undeniable sense of urgency.
The warmth of Rosalie’s body pressed against me, her breaths slow and steady.
She was sleeping so peacefully on my chest. My arms wrapped around her tightened slightly.
My sweet ballerina, I hope you’re dancing your heart out in your dreams…
She was my whole world, my everything.
Making this moment my own, I looked down at her and her ethereal features that softened within her slumber. Her vulnerability struck me to the core. Much like a flower, she was starved for sunlight, and I so desperately wished to give her everything she wanted and more.
The image of my uncle Joe loomed in my mind, a lingering specter from the past. The sheriff—a man whose very presence cast a long shadow, darkening my plans. He was a pillar of the community, and I knew he was onto me.
Fuck.
A pang of guilt shot through me, brushing a strand of hair away from Rosalie’s face, careful not to wake her.
She was the light amidst a gathering storm.
The method behind my madness. My muse. My heart quite literally beat solely for her.
I had thought about it long and hard—how I would get us out of this shitty ass town.
I was skilled at bending the rules, playing games to my advantage, but when it came to my uncle Joe, it was harder to execute my plans without consequence.
I had a feeling what I would have to do, but I wasn’t sure if I had the strength to do it.
I wasn’t a bad person, the things I did were solely to protect Rosalie.
Uncle Joe would have to be dealt with, and soon.
“But how do I do it?” I murmured to myself, careful not to disturb Rosalie. “How do I ensure our safety without losing myself in the process?” I rubbed Rosalie’s back gently, knowing she must be sore.
My mind drifted back to my childhood. Replaying countless conversations I overheard tucked away in my uncle’s study.
Late night meetings deemed as ‘business talks’ that were laced with deceit and ambition, reeking of conspiracy that curled like cigarette smoke all around him.
I wasn’t a bad person, but my uncle was.
Not always, of course. Growing up, he was the closest thing I had to a father figure, but over time, that changed.
Money and power went to his head. Or maybe it was that somewhere along the way we grew apart when I realized the truth behind his motives.
How somewhere the line blurred between caring for those in need and only doing so because it benefited himself in some way, shape, or form.
I noticed a change in him; the older I became, the more wound up he was regarding my trust. Beneath the facade of a caring sheriff was a monster who cared about nothing and no one but himself.
I saw that now. After all, after the accident that killed my parents, they closed the case, deeming it as an accident and nothing more.
But deep down… I had a feeling my uncle had something to do with it.
Not because he gained custody of me, but the abundance of wealth that came with said custody.
Control of my trust until I turned eighteen, and now that I was older we weren’t as close—a knot formed between my brow.
Not wanting to linger on thoughts of the past, I shifted my focus back to Rosalie.
I wondered what sort of future we would create together. What type of wedding ring would look best on her finger. What our children would look like.
It was thoughts of our future that kept me going. It was Rosalie who gave me strength.
This was a game of chess, one that I fully intended to win.
I was the king, and Rosalie, my queen.
The candlelight flickered. I mentally outlined my steps of how to dispose of my uncle Joe.
How to make it look like an accident, how Rosalie and I could leave this town once and for all with no questions asked.
“Breathe Silas…” I whispered to myself, trying to steady the anticipation that tugged at my nerves.
Everything will be fine… there is no other way…
Surging confidence flowed through me, easing the fear of the unknown that lay ahead.
Peering back down at Rosalie’s sleeping form, I planted a soft kiss against her temple.
I knew I would do anything for her—no matter whose blood was on my hands.
I would keep her safe; darkness would never taint her heart of gold.
I would preserve her innocence if it was the last thing I ever did.
I held her closer to me. My pulse quickened, knowing that there was no turning back. Not now.
Time ticked onward; the basement was quiet. I took it all in—the weight of the future hanging in the balance, the threads of my connection with Rosalie, the challenges that threatened to unravel everything I built.
A soft breath left my lips.
Slouching further into the couch, I was careful not to wake Rosalie.
Lifting my hand, I gently toyed with her strawberry locks.
My eyes drifted to the TV. The game was on.
I wasn’t really a sports fan by any means, but I couldn’t reach the remote, and I would be damned to wake her all because I wanted to change the channel.
The volume was soft, so I didn’t mind the subtle background noise.
I preferred the sound of Rosalie’s breaths, but the combination right now was comforting.
I never liked silence.
“Mm… Silas,” Rosalie mumbled in her sleep.
“Shhh… I’m here,” I whispered in her ear, planting another soft kiss against her cheek.
Don’t worry, my sweet little ballerina, I will take care of you, like I always do.