Page 9 of The Villains We Make
“I thought I did.”
He keeps his mouth shut, a tick in his tight jaw. I look at his crooked nose, the scar on his temple. He’s lucky he didn’t lose an eye, Sly had said. Sly had beaten him after Silas had broken the door to Ethan’s room and hauled him off me. He was always rescuing me, always turning up right when I needed him.
I shake my head and look away. That was in the past. That was a different Silas. I can’t let myself be fooled by this new, shitty version. The real version.
“What happened after? What did they do to you?” he asks, voice tight, not angry.
“They…” I feel my throat close up, ashamed somehow at having been beaten, weak for being their victim. When I look at Silas again, his hands are fists, as if he knows exactly the thoughts going around in my head. “I have a grandfather. And an uncle.”
He nods once.
“My father lied to me about those things.” I wipe tears from my eyes. “Actually, it seems all the men in my life only ever lie to me.”
“I don’t. I won’t. Ever.”
“Yeah well, here’s the thing. I don’t believe you.” I look out the window, see the densely falling snow. Am I trapped here?
“And your father may have good reason?—”
“Why do you defend him? What do you know about him to defend him?”
“I know he loves you.”
“He kidnapped my mother.”
“You know one version of the story. A version the Foxes want you to know. That’s all.”
“Why do you care anyway?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“I don’t need you to rescue me anymore, Silas.”
“I will always rescue you, Ophelia.”
Those words make me stop, make me want to believe, but I can’t. I have to guard what is left of my heart.
“Did Ethan tell you why he was in such a hurry to marry you? Why he didn’t want a prenup?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It does because I don’t think they’re just going to let you go. Let you walk away. This isn’t over, Ophelia. Not by a long shot.”
“I have a headache.”
“Carlisle-Bent, if he’s truly your grandfather, well, let’s just say the fortune he’d leave you is substantial. And considering he’s an old, sick man, I gather that will be sooner rather than later.”
Money. It always comes down to money. What did Ethan say in the car? Something about it being time he got what he was due.
“Ethan never had any feelings for you, O.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I know that. No need to twist that knife,” I say, not sure why it still hurts to hear it. “He showed me his true feelings the night of the gala.”
“I’m going to kill him for what he did to you. I swear it.”
“Oh, please spare me. Do you remember what I told you when we were dancing?” His eyebrows furrow and I don’t think he does. “I said I was finished with men with ulterior motives. That includes you. I just didn’t realize it at the time, but I do now. I don’t need you, Silas and, more importantly, I don’t want you. I just want to get out of here. So, thank you for managing to get me away from Ethan. For that I am grateful. Now, I need to see my father and understand things, and I need to figure out what I’m doing next. My house is gone. All my things inside those boxes, all the memories. All the lies, I guess is more apt.” My voice trembles.
I push the blanket off once more, not wanting to cry in front of him. Wanting to get away. But Silas sets his hand on my thigh to stop me, and his touch does stop me, the heat of it, the burn. It’s like a brand searing my skin and like the masochist I must be, I want more.