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Unease churns in my gut as I watch the two of them face each other. The red haze of anger and something darker, deeper swirls between the two of them.
Silas clenches his jaw and glances away. "If this is about what happened in the garage, I think we should?—"
“Don’t be ridiculous, Silas. This has nothing to do with that,” she snaps.
“Then what’s the problem?” he asks with a low glare.
“You have no idea all the horrible things that have played out in my head for days. Days, Silas. I’ve been worried sick about him.”
“I understand, but he’s not yours to worry about, Evangeline,” Silas murmurs, not unkindly.
“Of course he is! I’m his . . .” She falters, like a realization has stolen her breath. “He’s my . . .” She clears her throat and shakes her head, straightening her shoulders. “I care about him, and you—you just let me sit there”—she flings her arm behind her, toward the stools at the island—“thinking he’s going to walk in any second when you knew he wasn’t.”
“It’s not safe for him, okay? You’re not safe for him to be around,” Silas says quickly, like the words exploded from his mouth without his permission.
Evangeline gasps, her face falling so dramatically that I can almost feel her devastation from across the room.
“Fuck,” Nova curses under his breath.
Her eyes are too wide, and her chest rises and falls quickly. “What are you talking about? I protected him. I made sure he was safe with Dixie! How am I?—”
“You were taken, Evie. You. Not Ma or Hunter or anyone else. But someone came into my house and snatched you like that,” Silas says, snapping his fingers. “How did he know to be there? About the tunnel?”
Okay, I guess we aren’t going to have this conversation privately first.
She stumbles back a few steps, her hand flying to her chest. “Are you suggesting that I had something to do with this?”
My pulse thunders louder in my veins, and I’m this close to breaking my own self-imposed rule and stepping in.
Silas shakes his head. “No. No, of course not. But we have to find out who did. And until we do, it’s not safe for him to be here.”
“Around me, you mean.” Her voice is barely louder than a whisper, but I feel it like an arrow to the chest. Her eyes brim with unshed tears as she looks at Silas, a mix of hurt and betrayal evident on her face. “I would never do anything to hurt him, Silas.”
Silas’s expression softens, his eyes flickering with a mix of regret and understanding. He takes a step closer to her, but not close enough to touch. “I know you wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt him, Evie. But I’m his father, and it’s my responsibility to protect him.”
Silas’s words hung heavy in the air like a thick fog. He’s not wrong, and I know he’s only doing what he thinks he has to. He’s always been the first to fall on his sword, and as his best friend, I feel for him. But Evangeline’s pain is palpable, like a sharp knife twisting in my gut. And for the first time, I start to wonder if we can make this relationship work between us. Maybe I was wrong about keeping shit separate.
Evangeline swallows roughly, her gaze darting around the room without stopping on anything for too long. “Right, of course. I’m really tired, so I’m going to go.”
She pivots on her heels, and her hair flutters around her shoulders with the sharp movement. She’s out of the kitchen without another word, leaving the three of us stranded as we watch her leave.
“Before either of you start, I don’t like it either. But I can’t risk it. Not when it comes to him,” Silas says, his voice heavy with regret.
“Yeah, well what about her well-being? When are you going to start worrying about that?” Nova reprimands quietly before he follows after her.
24
EVANGELINE
There’s a knock on the door that I promptly ignore. It feels weird being here. It’s my house, but it still very much feels like Nana Jo’s house, and nothing about having them here feels normal. It’s not a bad feeling, more like a sweater that’s five sizes too big. I don’t know how to appreciate its cozy comfort yet.
I don’t know why I expected to go back to Silas’s house. If I would’ve been thinking clearly, I would’ve realized my mistake earlier. I never made it back downstairs that day, but I saw firsthand just how many bullets those assholes unloaded into their houses. There’s no possible way the entire first floor isn’t torn up. There’s a perverse part of me that wants to see the damage in the daylight. To get a good look at the destruction and practice gratitude to the universe and Nana Jo for helping me find my way back home in one piece.
I exhale a deep breath and let my head hang forward. “I don’t want to talk right now.” I make sure to pitch my voice loud enough so whoever is on the other side can hear me. It’s not a lie really. I don’t want to talk right now. I’m all talked out now that I’ve recounted everything. I’m not sure if I even have any words left.
“Open up, sweetheart.”
“I don’t want to talk, Nova.” I cringe at the despondence wrapped around my voice.
