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Chapter 15

Xavier

The panic room isn’t my favorite place to be, but it isn’t terrible.

It’s big enough to fit five people comfortably. Two single beds face each other, pushed up against opposite walls. The far wall is almost filled with computer screens hooked up to CCTV that covers every inch of the grounds, and the rest of the space is busy with supplies. Dried food, medical equipment, spare clothes, bottled water, and I’m fairly sure there’s a Rubik’s cube in there somewhere.

Bullet sits by my feet as I scan the CCTV screens. Zayden is getting into the SUV, but Yale remains in the foyer, talking with Silence. There’s sound, but I don’t bother turning it on, because it’s clear they’re talking about the discussion we had earlier.

Yale takes Silence’s chin in his hand, and I watch with equal parts fascination and trepidation.

They’ve always been relaxed in each other’s presence. I’d say I’ve seen Silence more hands-on with Yale than with her own husband, but that might be down to Zayden’s preference to observe her more than hold her to him. But Yale and Silence? They hug. They lean into each other. He wraps his arms around her without hesitation. It’s as if they live to feel each other.

But where do I fit in?

I’ve never exactly been a cuddly boyfriend. I’ve never even been a boyfriend. I fuck, and if it’s important to them, I kiss them goodbye. Other than that, no one really touches me, and I don’t touch them. Holding Silence in the car is the closest I’ve come to actual affection in fucking years.

If I cross this line with her, will she want me to be like Yale? To hold her, lie with her, wrap myself around her?

Or is this purely sex?

Can I handle either of those things, or will it break me, knowing these are the only pieces I’ll get of her? I told Zayden I could do this, but was I driven by the need to finally have Silence the way I’ve always wanted? Or can I really remain detached from this?

“I really don’t want to lock us in. Can’t we just say that we did?” Silence asks as she enters the room. I keep my eyes on the CCTV.

“You gonna lie to your bestie?”

She grunts and types in the code on the left of the door—a combination of our birthdays—and the metal door slides shut.

I face her, slip my hands into my pockets, and grin. “Wanna do a jigsaw?”

“This is boring!” Silence whines for the third time. I’m lying on one of the beds, forearm over my eyes, and she’s on the bed opposite.

“I could smother you with a pillow,” I suggest. “That’d take up a few minutes.”

“Your hilarity knows no bounds.”

I smile into my arm. “God, imagine the quiet. Also a good way to get a kill out of my system.”

“You shouldn’t joke about that.”

“Death?”

“Murder.”

I sigh. “Why did I have to get locked in a room with goody two shoes? Oh. Wait.” I drop my head to the side to look at her. “Goody two shoes is pretty handy with a knife. Maybe she’s not so good, after all.”

She tenses her jaw but says nothing. A few minutes of quiet pass, broken once only by Bullet yipping in his sleep. Silence’s frustration is like a heat washing over me, and I watch her.

“You never ask about what we do.”

She crosses her legs on the bed and plays with the cover. “I don’t want to know.”

“Liar. You just don’t want to ask Zayden because you’re worried his answers will ruin your perfect image of him.” I tuck my hand behind my head and close my eyes. “Well, you already don’t like me, so just ask.”

Minutes pass. Bullet sneezes. I’m about to fall asleep when Silence finally speaks.

“Why do you do it?”