Zayden
While Silence guides a grumpy Xavier to one of the guest rooms, Yale and I drag a kicking Grant into the basement. Once he’s secured to a chair and the doors are closed, I take the hood off his head.
He winces at the light, taking in his surroundings before realizing that screaming is pointless. The basement is soundproof, and he knows that, because he helped me fit the panels.
“Remember what you said to me when we finished renovating this?” I ask as I take a chair from the far side of the room and place it a few feet in front of my former friend.
He licks blood and sweat off his lip. “I said I feel sorry for anyone who wakes up in this basement.”
I sit. “Irony at its finest.”
“Think it’s just bad luck,” Grant grumbles. “Can you at least let Monica know I’m okay?”
“Already have. I’ve told her that work cropped up, and you’ve had to leave the country for a few weeks, and it’s best she spends Christmas with her mom.”
Grant drops his head, jaw tight, lips trembling. “And then? What will you tell her when I don’t fucking come back, Z?”
My face might be expressionless and my mind made up, but that doesn’t mean a part of me isn’t stung by this. Betrayal is thick and bitter, tough to swallow, harder to digest.
“I’ll make that decision later.”
He blinks, a tear streaking his cheek. “She’ll worry.”
“The last kind thing I’ll do for you is look after her.”
He stares at me, eyes shining. “I wanted to start a life with her, Z. Get out of all this. Just let me go. I’ll take Monica away, and you’ll never hear from me again, I fucking swear.”
“You gave up your right to be a husband when money became more important than her.”
He lets out a sob mingled with a laugh. “God, you’re such a fucking hypocrite, Z. You’re just as bad as me, if not worse.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?”
“Because you don’t need to do any of this!
” he screams, tears streaming fully now, voice thick with desperation.
“You’re rich now—you all are. You do it for the fucking kicks!
You have Silence, a woman most guys would give anything to have, and the moment she found out the truth you could’ve left, or at least stepped back.
You could’ve washed your hands of all of it.
But you didn’t. You swept dead fucking bodies under the rug because you’re addicted to the thrill. ”
Yale shifts in the corner of the room, dress shoes scratching against the cement floor, but says nothing.
I know what he’s thinking, though, because he’s said these exact words to me.
Silence almost left me, left all of us, when she discovered the truth about what we do.
Yale was ready to give it up in a second, zero hesitation, but I said she’d come around. She’d understand.
And she did. It took time, but she found room for it, and we moved on.
Tonight changes everything, though. She’s been thrust into the chaos of our lives with no warning. Grant and I are equally to blame for those bruises on her face.
I shove that thought aside with force.
“Tell me everything you know about Ryker Blake.”
Grant sniffs. “I told you. I never met the guy. We spoke a few times on the phone, but that’s it.”
“And what did you tell him about Silence?”
He chews his lip, a fidgety, jerky action. “If you’re going to kill me anyway, why should I tell you anything? You haven’t even given me a chance, Z. Years of friendship and you won’t even let me explain.” He looks at Yale, eyes pleading. “You know me, Y. If I did this, you know I was desperate.”
It makes sense for him to appeal to Yale. He’s the kindest of all of us, the man with more patience and forgiveness than most. I also value his opinion, so I’ll follow his lead.
“I could forgive you for a lot, Grant,” Yale says quietly, his voice seeming to crawl from the shadowed corner of the basement where he stands. “But not hurting Silence.”
Grant lets out a cry. “I didn’t know he was going to hurt her!”
“The moment that fucker said her name, you should’ve come to us,” Yale hits back. “You put yourself before family. That’s unforgiveable.”
No forgiveness from Yale is a stamp of approval for me.
“Tell us everything you know, and I’ll kill you quick,” I say. “Make me beat it out of you and I’ll keep you down here for weeks.”
Grant vibrates with understandable fear, sweat shining across his forehead as he stares at me. “If I tell you, you’ll hate me.”
My jaw aches, teeth grinding as I search for patience I’m running out of. The last thing I want to do is torture my friend, regardless of what he’s done, but he’s leaving me no option.
“Z.” Yale’s voice is cautious, and when I meet his eye, there’s a rage in him. Grant’s phone is in his hand, and he holds it out. “Look at this.”
Grant shakes his head. “Z, please don’t hate me.”
Ignoring him, I go to my brother and take the phone.
It’s open on a folder—a mix of spreadsheets.
I tap it, and locations come up. The times are specific to the minute, and addresses are listed too, all dedicated to Silence—who she’s with, what she’s doing, down to the outfit she’s wearing.
It’s meticulous, pages upon pages, dating back months.
My heart pounds with the kind of fury I reserve for enemies, and as I close the spreadsheet, I see another folder.
This one is filled with photographs.
The first few are dated from months ago.
Silence is in her scrubs, takeout coffee in hand, phone against her ear as she walks into the hospital.
She’s smiling, ponytail swinging, and different shots show her checking her watch, then disappearing inside the ER.
As I scroll, the photos go from a few a day to ten. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred.
Per. Fucking. Day.
My breathing picks up as I come across photos that aren’t even of her. They’re of our house, of our bedroom window.
Then panties.
Used. The crotch spread out for the photo to capture every detail.
Then tampons, stained with blood.
I lift my gaze to Grant and he’s sobbing. “Please, Z—”
The room descends into darkness. A violent drum bangs against my ears as time seems to fold in on itself, my entire being slipping away like water through my fingers. I’m weightless, I’m nothing, and then I’m back.
Pain thuds in time with my heart as Yale pulls me to the other side of the basement. Grant’s face is doused in blood, lip split, nose broken, head lolling back as drool dribbles from his lip to his shirt. My knuckles are covered in pieces of his flesh, and the drumming fades.
Yale is gripping the back of my neck. “Z, come back to me.” That’s easier said than done when wherever I was meant I was causing this fucker significant pain. But I breathe, I close my eyes, and I feel my brother rest his forehead to mine. “You’re here. With me.”
Each breath shudders, but I focus on his hand on my neck, his voice, anything to keep me from floating away from myself and killing Grant.
“I’m sorry, Z,” Grant sobs through swollen lips and broken teeth. “I … I’m so sorry—”
As the rage threatens to simmer to the surface, Yale ushers me up the basement steps and into the house again, closing the door behind him.
He guides me to my office, and I’m numb for the next few minutes as I sit behind my desk.
My brother presses a whiskey into my hand, the crystal glass chilled against my palm.
Dawn is approaching, buttery rays of light pushing through the split in the office drapes. The drink is gone, my throat is burning, and I scrub my hands down my face, ignoring the growing ache in my knuckles.
“What do you think? Do we leave?” Yale asks.
I squeeze my jaw, my gaze landing on the wedding photo on my desk. I dragged her into this life. Forced her to be part of a world that could take her from me.
And now that she’s paying the price.
“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice hoarse. “Grant might have been his only plant.”
“But what if he wasn’t?” Yale folds his arms, brow furrowed.
“What if there are more, and they come for Silence? He’s clearly obsessed with her.
I mean… photographs are fucked up enough, but panties?
Tampons, for fuck’s sake? What is wrong with this guy?
” I remain quiet as I try to keep calm. “If he managed to convince Grant to invade Silence’s privacy, steal her things, stalk her … then what else is he capable of?”
I have no idea, but it’s not a coincidence that someone this obsessed with Silence just happens to have these resources. “Do you still have Grant’s phone?” Yale fishes it out of his pocket and hands it to me. The screen is cracked now, but it’s still working.
I find other folders dedicated to us, though they’re nowhere near as extensive as Silence’s. There are a few photos, nothing out of the ordinary, and not as violating as the ones of my wife.
A number suddenly flashes on the screen. Yale and I lock eyes as I answer the call and put it on speakerphone.
“Evening, gents,” Blake croons. “Or, I guess it’s morning now.
What a shame I’m not waking up in bed next to my girl.
” Anger sluices through my blood when I remember I almost let him sleep with her.
He’d been watching her, doing God knows fucking what with her photos and possessions, and I let him walk right into our bedroom.
“I’m guessing Grant has spilled the beans. ”
“And then some,” I say. “You’ve lost your insider.”
He chuckles, low and confident. “Have I?”
Yale meets my eye, his jaw tight. I’d like to think he’s fucking with us, but we can’t underestimate him.
“How exactly do you know my wife?” I ask, and quiet stretches between us.
Blake clicks his tongue. “Maybe I don’t. Maybe I was stalking the legendary Silver brothers and fell in love when I spotted dear, sweet Silence.”
“Maybe you have a death wish.”
He chuckles. “We both know Xavier does. How’s he doing?”
“My brother has been through far worse.”
“Right. Two bullets to the back six years ago, broken jaw, fractured cheekbone, a few broken fingers … you’ve all got quite a laundry list of injuries.
Except Yale. He’s clever enough to sit behind a computer.
” What the fuck? I lean forward, but before I can speak, Blake does.
“Ooh. I’ve got you speechless, Zayden Silver. What a fucking honor.”
“I’m going to give you one chance to drop whatever fucked-up fantasy you have,” I say, my voice low, the threat clear. I flex my fingers, tendons shifting beneath my skin, fresh blood seeping from my cuts. “You waste that chance, you die.”
Blake sighs as if dealing with a child. “I could do that. I could walk away, go home. I really, really could. Or you could give me everything, Z. The Agency. Your home. Yeah … that sounds like a much better deal to me.”
“And why the hell would I do that?”
His laugh is giddy. “Because if you don’t give it to me, I’ll take it. And believe me when I say you won’t survive the latter. If I don’t get what I want, Zayden, I tend to act out a little bit.”
I lean back in my chair. “So what you’re saying is … you’re a toddler.”
Yale huffs a laugh and looks away.
The line is quiet for a moment. “I’ve waited a long time for this moment, Zayden. I’ll stretch it out for as long as there are morsels left of you to eat, but eventually, I’ll get bored and just kill you all.”
I tap my fingers against the desk. “You wanna know the secret to actually scaring people, Ryker?” Quiet. “Don’t talk so fucking much.” I disconnect the call and meet my brother’s eye. “We move Silence somewhere safer, then we kill this prick.”