"But at least you got yourself a new girlfriend," Silas continues, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "She’s pretty. A bit vibrant for a man like you, isn't she? You usually go for the ones who know how to keep their mouths shut."
"Silas," I breathe. My grip on the phone is so tight the casing creaks.
"I saw the way you looked at her at breakfast this morning, and that was what confirmed it for me. You don't do casual, Lorcan. You never have. If she’s at your table, she’s in your heart. And we both know what happens to things you love."
"I killed you," I find myself saying, because what the fuck am I to say to a ghost??
"You missed the heart by an inch. I’ve had five years to think about that inch. Five years to watch you build your little empire in Vegas while I rotted. An eye for an eye, Lorcan. That’s the rule, isn't it? You took what’s mine, you took her from me, and you took my future. Now, I’m going to take yours."
"If you touch her—"
"I already have," Silas chuckles. "I’ve marked her. She’s yours, which means she’s mine to break. See you in the desert, Lorcan."
The line goes dead.
I stare at the phone for a long time. The dread is a physical weight, pressing down on my lungs. Silas isn't just alive. He’s been watching. He saw the cliff. He saw the breakfast. He saw me bring her into my suite.
By wanting her, I’ve signed her death warrant.
FUCK!
I look to my right, and Atara is staring at me. The shock has vanished, replaced by a white-hot, vibrating fury. Her hair is a mess, her cream dress is smudged and rumpled, and her eyes are searching my face with a terrifying intensity.
"What," she says, her voice trembling, "the absolute hell was that?"
I look away.
"Lorcan! Answer me!" she shouts, leaning over the center console. She’s gone batshit crazy, her hands fluttering in the air. "Who are those people? Why were they shooting at us? H-how did you just shoot two men in a hallway like you were taking out the trash? How do you even have a gun?!"
"Atara, sit back," I say, my voice flat.
"No! I will not sit back! I have questions, and you will give me my answers! Who are you? Really? Because 'just a businessman' doesn't cover all I just witnessed!”
She’s breathing hard, her face flushed.
"And why am I in this car?" she continues, her voice rising to a screech. "Turn this car around! I want to go back to the resort. I want to call the police. I want to go home!"
"You can't go home," I say.
The words are a stone dropped into a still pond. She freezes, her mouth half-open.
"What do you mean I can't go home?"
"The man on the phone," I say, turning to look at her fully. I want her to see the truth. I want her to see the monster Silas sees. "His name is Silas. He’s… a terrifying bastard. And he saw me with you. In my world, that makes you a target. If I let you go back to that resort, you’ll be dead or worse before you reach the lobby."
"That’s insane," she whispers, her bravado flickering. "I don't even know you. I’ve known you for two days! Tell him that! Tell him I’m just a girl you met coincidentally!"
"He won't believe it. I don't take 'just girls' to my private table. I don't take 'just girls' to my bed. He knows me, Atara. He knows that if I’m protecting you, you’re important."
"But I'm not! I'm just… I'm just Atara!"
"Not anymore," I say. I reach out, my hand hovering near her cheek, but I don't touch her. I don't want to contaminate her further. "You’re coming with me. To Las Vegas. For protection."
"W-what? Las Vegas?! Protection?" she laughs, a jagged, hysterical sound. "You’re kidnapping me! You’re literally kidnapping me under the guise of 'protection'!"
"Call it whatever you want," I growl, as the craziness of the situation settles in. "But you’re getting on my plane. And you’re staying in my house. Until I find Silas and put him in the ground for real this time, you don't leave my sight. Is that clear?"
She looks at me for a long, silent beat. I can see her calculating, her brilliant brain trying to find a loophole, a logical exit strategy. But there isn't one.
