Page 5 of The Villains We Make
“Where is he?”
“Where else? The Sinistral.”
Of course. “Horatio Hart—did you get a meeting arranged?”
“Silas, I already told you, you go near the prison, and you’ll be arrested on sight.”
“And you’ll be there to bail me out.”
“We can’t guarantee they’ll set bail given what is being circulated on social media. You’ve gone viral. Congratulations.”
I push a hand into my hair and watch the fire burn. Someone shot a video of me beating the shit out of Ethan before taking Ophelia and uploaded it to TikTok. Apparently, it was a big hit.
“You don’t make my job easy, Silas.”
“It’s why you get paid the big bucks, Nigella. Did you get the other thing handled?” I ask, changing the subject because she’s right. I can’t go anywhere just yet, not until I’m sure Ophelia is protected. I can just see Sly spinning the Romeo and Juliet story the papers so loved to Ophelia’s grandfather and getting him on board for her to marry Ethan.
She sighs. “Check your email.”
I pull the phone away and glance at my inbox. There it is. “Good. Thank you.”
As I say it, I hear a sound, a shifting of the springs of the old, creaky bed. I turn slowly, my heart suddenly racing, and watch as Ophelia blinks her eyes open, reaching her hand up to her head. She stares up at the ceiling, her forehead creasing in confusion.
I clear my throat and step toward the bed. The sound and movement have her turning toward me, eyes trying to focus on me in this dimly lit room.
“Call me once you’ve arranged that meeting,” I say, disconnecting the call and tucking the phone into my pocket without waiting for Nigella’s response.
Ophelia pulls herself up to a seat. I watch, seeing the effort it takes her. She never once takes her eyes off me.
I smile, relieved to see her awake and alert.
“Hey, you,” I say, moving toward her. I reach out to touch her cheek but stop, surprised when she draws away from me, accusation in her eyes.
Surely, she couldn’t believe what they told her? That I’d set fire to her house. Surely, she wouldn’t.
“O?”
“Don’t touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again!”
3
OPHELIA
Silas cocks his head, taken aback by my response to his touch, I guess. He reaches for me again. “Ophe?—”
“I said don’t!”
He puts his hands up, palms facing me, and takes a step backward.
“You’re confused. I’m sure. But you’re safe,” he says, and I blink up at him trying to make sense of where I am.
I search the room, eye the door.
“Just relax,” he says, moving to block my view of the door. Does he think I’ll run for it? I’m not sure I could even crawl. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.
I recall the events that led me here. I remember the night of the gala, dancing with Silas. Silas and me up in that room. Silas making love to me, holding me… then the moment everything changed. When everything went so wrong.
My head throbs and I close my eyes against the pain as it all comes flooding back.