Page 72 of Beautiful Chaos
Gunfire cuts off my words. Silas quickly finds, then silences, that shooter as well.
Rae clears her throat. I turn to her. “I jump at scary movies, but I will get used to this.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Edison and Mav find two other shooters and take them out. Our team is brutal. Efficient. Within minutes, thebuilding has gone quiet again, and there are about a dozen piles of ash on the various screens. With the front of the office secured, the guys aim for the large warehouse space in the back.
As I’m beginning to wonder if I need to see a therapist for watching this operation, Uncle Odd curses.
Rae switches to his body cam and a guttural “Fuck” escapes my mouth.
It isn’t a warehouse space.
It’s a nursery with dozens and dozens of cribs. And it’s crawling with bad guys. The rest of the operatives fan out. Some have to switch to hand-to-hand combat. Our team is well trained. Theirs…is not.
The only one who hasn’t moved, though, is Silas. He stands near the entrance, not moving, blood from a dead guard pooling toward his feet.
Rae leans in for a better look. “This is bad.”
“Has he ever frozen like that in the middle of an operation?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen him like this before.”
17
SILAS
“Sy?”
I can’t breathe.
“Silas?”
Breathe, dammit.
Everything is going black around the edges as Edison swims in front of me, puts his hands on my shoulders. We snarl at one another, reflexive.
It’s been years since we’ve interacted physically.
“Silas, can you hear me?” He shakes me, hard. “Breathe, Sy.”
I startle and suck in air. Sharp. As if I’ve just surfaced from a great depth.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I growl and pull away from him, the energy shift instantaneous.
Edison releases me, keeping his hands up in the surrender position, stepping backward. I gulp another lungful of air.
Mav and Odd appear at Edison’s shoulders. Odd cocks his head at me, curious. Maverick. Sweet Maverick looks…concerned. Afraid.
H and H come in from the sides.
Holmes, an interesting kind of predator, takes his spot in front of me.
“You okay?”
I look around him. Everything that appeared dark isn’t. We’re under fluorescent lights. It’s a small warehouse full of cribs. Bassinets. Incubators.
Dozens.
