Chapter 15 #2
“Silas—” Her voice broke as the pleasure crested, washing over her in waves.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
He followed her over the edge moments later, her name on his lips.
They lay tangled together afterward, breathing hard, hearts pounding. Silas rolled to the side, pulling Harper with him so she was tucked against his chest. His arm wrapped around her, holding her close.
“That was—” Harper started, then laughed. “I don’t even have words.”
“Yeah.” Silas pressed a kiss to her temple. “Yeah.”
They lay in comfortable silence for a while, just existing together. Harper listened to Silas’s heartbeat gradually slow, felt the warmth of his skin against hers. For the first time in weeks, her mind was quiet. No spinning thoughts about evidence or victims or killers. Just peace.
“I meant what I said before,” Silas said quietly. “About this being real. About wanting to see where it goes after the case is over.”
Harper propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. “So did I.”
“Good.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture tender. “Because I’m in this. Whatever happens, wherever we end up, I want you in my life.”
“Even when I’m a mess? When I have nightmares and guilt spirals and work twenty-hour days?”
“Especially then. Because I get it. I’ve been there. We can be a mess together.” Silas pulled her back down against his chest. “Plus, someone needs to make sure you actually eat and sleep occasionally.”
Harper laughed against his chest. “Is that your primary qualification? Feeding me?”
“Among other things.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ve also been told I give excellent back rubs and make a mean lasagna.”
Her fingers played in the fine hairs dusting his chest. “I’ll have to test both of those claims.”
“Anytime.”
They dozed for a while, wrapped in each other and the afternoon sunlight filtering through the curtains. When Harper woke, Silas was already awake, watching her with an expression that made her chest tight.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing. Just...” He traced her jawline with his finger. “Just thinking about how different everything is now compared to when we first met.”
“When you thought I was an arrogant FBI agent invading your territory?”
“I never thought you were arrogant. Stubborn, yes. Determined, definitely. But not arrogant.” Silas smiled. “I knew from that first crime scene that you were going to be trouble.”
“Trouble?” she said incredulously.
“The best kind of trouble. The kind that changes everything.”
Harper leaned in, kissed him, slow and sweet this time. No urgency, no desperation. Just connection.
When they finally got up, it was late afternoon. Silas insisted on making the lunch he’d abandoned earlier, and Harper sat at the kitchen table in one of his T-shirts, watching him cook and feeling something she hadn’t felt in years.
Happy. Despite everything—the case, the victims, the guilt—she felt happy.
“What are you smiling about?” Silas asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“Nothing. Everything.” Harper shook her head. “I’m just...content. Which feels wrong given what we’re dealing with, but I can’t help it.”
“Don’t feel guilty about being happy. We’re allowed moments of joy even in the middle of darkness.
Maybe especially then.” Silas plated the food—sandwiches and fruit, simple but satisfying.
“We can’t pour from an empty cup. Taking care of ourselves, finding moments of connection and peace—that’s what keeps us able to do the work. ”
They ate on the porch, watching the sun sink lower through the trees. The forest was quiet, except for bird calls and the rustle of wind through pine needles.
“When this is over,” Harper said, “when we catch him and the case closes, I want to come back here. To this cabin. Just for a weekend. No case, no pressure. Just us.”
“I’d like that.” Silas reached over, laced his fingers through hers. “We could hike that trail again. Maybe go farther, see what’s beyond the ridge.”
“Cook actual meals instead of living on takeout,” she said with a lift of her brows.
“Sleep past six a.m,” he added.
“Revolutionary concept.”
They smiled at each other, and Harper felt a surge of hope. Maybe they could have this. Maybe when the nightmare ended, they could build something real together.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Captain Holloway: FBI lab results on fiber evidence came back early. Meeting tomorrow 9am to review. Get some rest tonight.
The real world intruding on their moment. Harper sighed.
“Case?” Silas asked.
“Fiber evidence results. Meeting tomorrow morning.” Harper squeezed his hand. “But that’s tomorrow. Tonight is ours.”
“Tonight is ours,” Silas agreed, his thumb tracing over her knuckles.
They stayed on the porch until the stars came out, talking about everything and nothing.
Their childhoods, their dreams before they became consumed by chasing darkness, the places they wanted to travel someday.
Getting to know each other beyond the case, beyond the crisis that had thrown them together.
When they finally went back inside, it felt natural to go to the bedroom together. To climb into bed wrapped in each other’s arms. To fall asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing.
Harper’s last thought before sleep claimed her was that no matter what happened with the case, no matter how it ended, she would never regret this. Never regret letting Silas in.
For the first time in her adult life, she wasn’t alone in the darkness.
And that made all the difference.