Chapter 42
SILAS
Noah won’t stop shaking.
I’m sitting on the floor of Parker’s living room with my back against the couch, Noah tucked against my side, his small body trembling despite the blanket wrapped around him. Liam is on Parker’s lap in the armchair, his face buried in her neck, her hand running soothing circles on his back.
We’ve been here for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes since we got back from the park. Twenty minutes since someone opened fire on us in broad fucking daylight.
Twenty minutes of trying to convince two five-year-olds that they’re safe when I’m not even sure that’s true.
“Uncle Silas?” Noah’s voice is small, muffled against my shirt. “Why did those people shoot at us?”
I glance at Parker over his head. She looks exhausted, terrified, holding it together by sheer force of will. She gives me a slight nod—permission to answer how I think is best.
“Sometimes bad people do bad things,” I say carefully, keeping my voice steady and calm despite the rage burning in my chest. “But they’re gone now. And we’re not going to let them hurt you.”
“But what if they come back?” Liam asks, lifting his head from Parker’s shoulder. His eyes are red from crying, his face blotchy. “What if they find us here?”
“They won’t.” Parker’s voice is firm, certain. “Because we have the best protection in the world. Uncle Silas, Uncle Jace, Uncle Cal, and Uncle Charles would never let anything happen to you. I promise.”
“Where’s Uncle Jace?” Noah asks, his hand fisting in my shirt. “I want Uncle Jace.”
“He’s making sure we’re safe,” I tell him. “Checking the house, making sure no bad guys can get in. He’ll be here soon.”
It’s not entirely a lie. Jace is coordinating with security, making sure the perimeter is locked down, that every entrance is covered, that no one can get within a hundred yards of this house without us knowing.
But mostly he’s trying to figure out who the fuck just tried to kill us and why.
“Can we sleep in your room tonight?” Liam asks Parker. “All of us? I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course, baby.” Parker presses a kiss to his head. “We’ll all sleep together. You, me, and Noah. Safe and sound.”
“And Uncle Silas?” Noah looks up at me hopefully. “Can he stay too? And Uncle Cal and Uncle Jace?”
Fuck.
Parker’s eyes meet mine over the boys’ heads. There’s a question there, uncertainty about how to navigate this without revealing too much, without confusing them further.
“If your mom says it’s okay,” I say carefully, “I can stay in the guest room. Make sure you’re all protected.”
“No.” Noah’s grip on my shirt tightens. “Not the guest room. With us. Like when we have nightmares and Mom lets us sleep in her bed.”
Liam nods against Parker’s shoulder. “We feel safer when you’re here.”
Something in my chest cracks.
These kids—these beautiful, brave, terrified kids—feel safer with me here. Want me here. Trust me to protect them.
Whether they’re mine biologically or not doesn’t fucking matter. They’re mine now. Both of them.
“Okay,” I say quietly. “I’ll stay. If that’s what you need.”
“And Uncle Cal and Uncle Jace?” Liam presses.
“We’ll see,” Parker says gently. “But right now, I think we all need something to drink. How about some hot chocolate?”
“With marshmallows?” Noah asks hopefully.
“Extra marshmallows,” Parker confirms.
I start to stand, but Noah’s hand tightens on my shirt. “Don’t leave.”
“I’m just going to make the hot chocolate, buddy. I’ll be right back.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” I ruffle his hair, extracting myself carefully from his grip. “Two minutes. Time me.”
That gets a small smile. Progress.
I head to the kitchen, grateful for the excuse to move, to do something productive instead of just sitting with the weight of almost losing them pressing down on my chest.
The kitchen is open to the living room, so I can still see Parker and the boys. She’s talking to them quietly, her voice soothing, answering their questions with patience I don’t know how she has right now.
I pull out the milk, the cocoa, the marshmallows. Put a pot on the stove. Try to focus on the simple mechanics of making hot chocolate instead of the fact that someone just tried to kill my family.
My family.
When the fuck did that happen?
When did Parker Carter and her two boys become the thing I’d die protecting? When did the idea of losing them become more terrifying than any bullet or blade I’ve ever faced?
Movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention. Cal, setting up his mobile workstation on the dining table—three laptops, a tablet, cables snaking between devices, his fingers already flying across keyboards.
“Anything?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
“Working on it.” His eyes never leave the screens. “Got the security feeds from the park, pulling traffic cams from surrounding streets, running facial recognition on the hostiles we have clear shots of.”
“The ones we took down?”
“Dead. All three. No ID, no phones, no wallets. Professional.”
“Fuck.”
The milk starts to steam. I add the cocoa, whisking it smooth, trying to channel my rage into something productive.
“Uncle Silas?” Noah’s voice from the living room. “Is it ready?”
“Almost, buddy. Thirty more seconds.”
I pour the hot chocolate into mugs, add an obscene amount of marshmallows because these kids deserve something good after the shit they just went through. Carry them carefully to the living room.
Noah and Liam’s faces light up when they see the marshmallows overflowing from the mugs.
“Whoa,” Liam breathes.
“That’s like a hundred marshmallows,” Noah adds, awed.
“At least,” I confirm, handing them each a mug. “Don’t tell your mom I gave you this much sugar.”
Parker shoots me a look, but there’s warmth in it. Gratitude, maybe, for making them smile.
I make two more mugs—one for Parker, one for me—and return to my spot on the floor next to Noah. The kid immediately leans into my side again, sipping his hot chocolate carefully.
“Better?” I ask quietly.
He nods. “Thank you, Uncle Silas.”
“Anytime, kid.”
From the dining table, Cal’s phone buzzes. He answers without looking away from his screens. “Yeah... Got it. Pulling it up now.”
I watch him work, his amber eyes scanning data faster than most people can read. Whatever he’s found, it’s significant—I can see it in the set of his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens.
“You should go help,” Parker says quietly.
I look at her, then at Noah pressed against my side, then at Liam curled in her lap. “They need—”
“They need you to find whoever did this and make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she interrupts, her voice firm despite the fear I can see in her eyes. “Go. Work. We’ll be okay for a few minutes.”
“No,” Noah says immediately, his hand grabbing my shirt again. “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.”
“Yeah,” Liam adds, his voice small. “What if the bad people come back?”
“They won’t,” Parker assures them. “We have security outside. Lots of people protecting us.”
“But I want Uncle Silas here,” Noah insists. His voice breaks slightly. “And Uncle Cal. I don’t want them to leave.”
Cal’s head comes up from his screens, his expression softening in a way I’ve rarely seen.
“We’re not leaving,” he says, standing and moving to the living room. “Not going anywhere, little man.”
“Promise?” Liam asks.
“Promise.” Cal settles on the couch behind where I’m sitting, close enough to reach out and ruffle Noah’s hair. “We’re staying right here.”
“What about Uncle Jace?” Noah asks. “Where is he?”
As if summoned, the front door opens. Jace steps inside, his expression hard but his eyes immediately seeking out Parker and the boys, cataloging that they’re safe, unharmed.
“Uncle Jace!” Both boys perk up immediately.
“Hey, guys.” He crosses to them, crouching down so he’s at their level. “You doing okay?”
“We have hot chocolate,” Noah offers, holding up his mug. “With like a hundred marshmallows.”
“I can see that.” Jace’s lips twitch into something almost like a smile. “Looks good.”
“Uncle Silas made it for us,” Liam adds. “Because we were scared.”
“That was nice of him.” Jace looks at me, and I see the question in his eyes. How are they really?
I give a small shake of my head. Terrified. Holding it together. Barely.
“Can you stay too?” Noah asks Jace. “Please? We don’t want to be alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Jace says firmly. “I promise.”
“All three of you?” Liam presses. “All together?”
“If your mom says it’s okay,” Jace confirms, glancing at Parker.
She nods, her throat working. “It’s okay.”
The boys visibly relax, some of the tension leaving their small bodies. Noah’s grip on my shirt loosens slightly. Liam settles more comfortably in Parker’s lap.
Jace straightens, moving to where I’m sitting. He taps my shoulder. “I’ve got this. Go help Cal.”
I hesitate. Noah’s still pressed against my side, his hot chocolate half-finished, his breathing finally starting to even out.
“Go,” Jace says quietly. “They need answers more than they need you sitting here. I’ll stay with them.”
He’s right. As much as I want to stay here, holding Noah, making sure he feels safe—the best way to protect these kids is to find out who the fuck just tried to kill them and eliminate the threat.
“Okay.” I look down at Noah. “Hey, buddy. Uncle Jace is going to sit with you for a bit while I help Uncle Cal with some work. That okay?”
Noah looks between me and Jace, uncertain.
“I’ll be right over there,” I point to the dining table, maybe fifteen feet away. “You can see me the whole time. And Uncle Jace gives way better hugs than I do anyway.”
“That’s a lie,” Jace mutters, but he’s already settling on the floor where I was sitting.
Noah considers this, then nods slowly. “Okay. But don’t leave the house.”
“Not leaving the house,” I confirm. “But I may have to if I find out where the bad guys are, okay?”
He hesitates and eventually nods.
I extract myself carefully, watching as Jace takes my place, Noah immediately curling into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Because it is.