Page 176 of Relapse

If I finally wanted a fighting chance at survival, I had to get away from the place that made me think that killing myself was the better option. It made sense. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t see that until now. I allowed myself to live in this perpetual cycle of pain.

Not anymore.

“Goodbye,” I said, walking around Damian to the door.

His hand brushed my arm, wanting to grab me again, but he stopped himself. I didn’t look back. If I looked back, I might convince myself that I needed to be here for him. Or worse, I’d see my mom. And then I’d remain in hell for her.

The front door opened before I reached it. Silas stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the streetlight, his car idling in the driveway.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his eyes moving past me to space behind me, where Damian stood silently. I didn’t look back over my shoulder, but Silas’s gaze remained fixed, and I knew he was staring straight into Damian’s unyielding glare.

“Yeah,” I said. I stepped out. “Let’s go.”

I wasn’t going to wait to see if Damian would follow. I hoped he didn’t. The last thing I needed was for him and Silas to get into it over me.

Silas took my bag from me before I got into the passenger seat.

“This feels light,” he said, giving the duffle a little shake. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Uh, d-don’t do that,” I suggested pitifully. I made up my mind that I would just tell him about the loaded gun later.

He eyed me skeptically, but loaded my things in the back seat.

I looked back at the house. The light in the master bedroom was on now.

Silas climbed in behind the wheel and looked at me. “Ready?” he asked.

I nodded, my eyes never leaving the window. “Drive.”

I didn’t ask him where we were going. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

Silas finally pulled into a parking garage beneath a tall building, and I looked up through the windshield at the rows of private balconies that had sitting chairs pointed out to the road. This wasn’t what I’d expected and needless to say, I was relieved. Half of me thought I was going to end up in a Motel 6 with stained carpets and an ice machine that rattled all night. The ones from the horror movies. This looked liveable. And not scary secluded.

“This is one of my family’s properties,” Silas said. He caught how quickly my face fell and added, “The legitimate side.” He thought again. “Mostly.”

It’s not like I had any other options, so I followed him in.

Before we went through the double doors he looked at me. “Pull your hoodie up. Over your head.”

I wanted to ask why but Silas gave me a glare. I pulled the hoodie up. I mentally gave myself a note to ask him what this oh so “legitimate” property was used for.

I followed him through a lobby, past a front desk where the attendant nodded at Silas.

The condo was on the fourth floor, so we took the elevator. Luckily, no one was inside when we entered. We ascended up in silence.

We rounded a corner and Silas stopped at the first door on his right. He unlocked the room and stepped back, letting me enter first.

It was spacious. Big kitchen with granite counters, a couch that looked like it had never been slept on, floor-to-ceiling windows showing some of the city center. Warm. I was sure it had to be expensive.

“Bedroom through there,” Silas said, pointing to a hallway. “Bathroom’s stocked. Shampoo, soaps. Towels are clean.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, already feeling overwhelmed by it all. I walked to the dining table and set my bag down, digging through my duffel for my charger and medication. I arranged them on the counter in a neat pile like they somehow helped me claim space in this massive suite.

Then, slowly, I added the gun next to them. All my items in a neat little row.

“Christ,” Silas snarled, seeing it. He entered the room, shut the door behind him and crossed over to me. He snatched the gun off of the table.

“Hey—”