Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“I think you’re all liars, Silas. And you’re right, it did take me a long time to see it, but I know now. In fact, I’m very clear now. Where are my clothes? I want my clothes.”
“You’ll get your clothes when you’re being reasonable. And you’re going to need your strength if you want to get out of here, so first things first. Drink this.”
“Or what? You’ll make me?”
He shrugs a shoulder, holding the mug out to me. After a moment, he raises his eyebrows for my response and I have a feeling he would do just what he’s implying. My stomach growls at the scent of hot broth wafting from the mug. He’s right. I do need my strength if I want to get out of here and away from him. Away from all of them. So, I take the mug and sip it. It’s good, the heat of it making me realize how cold I feel inside.
Silas pulls over a chair and sits down, watching me as I sip the broth slowly. I look at the fire rather than at him. He doesn’t speak, neither of us do, and I remember growing up how he’d keep his head down and do his work. Strong and silent type, Dad would say. I always got the impression that Dad felt some sort of bond with Silas even when Silas wasn’t very nice to him.
Once I’m finished, I set the mug down, feeling a little better.
“Whatever they told you, it’s a lie,” he says.
“They didn’t have to tell me anything. They showed me. They showed me the security footage of you leaving my house half an hour before the fire destroyed it.” Tears leak from my eyes. The house is gone. Does Dad even know?
“I didn’t set that fire. Period. The end.”
“I saw you. I watched you walk away.”
“Did you watch me strike a fucking match?” he asks, his tone sharp and cutting. As soon as he realizes it, he gets up and walks away, pushing a hand through his hair and muttering a curse under his breath. When he turns back to me, his expression is guarded. “You saw what Sly and Ethan wanted you to see. There’s more footage you weren’t privy to.”
“Oh? Do you have that, then? Maybe you can show me. Clear your name.”
“Are you and I seriously having this fucking conversation? You know me, O. You fucking know me.”
“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.