Page 31 of Sharing Silence

Dawn is approaching, buttery rays of light pushing through the split in the office drapes. The drink is gone, my throat is burning, and I scrub my hands down my face, ignoring the growing ache in my knuckles.

“What do you think? Do we leave?” Yale asks.

I squeeze my jaw, my gaze landing on the wedding photo on my desk. I dragged her into this life. Forced her to be part of a world that could take her from me.

And now that she’s paying the price.

“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice hoarse. “Grant might have been his only plant.”

“But what if he wasn’t?” Yale folds his arms, brow furrowed. “What if there are more, and they come for Silence? He’s clearly obsessed with her. I mean… photographs are fucked up enough, but panties? Tampons, for fuck’s sake? What is wrong with this guy?” I remain quiet as I try to keep calm. “If he managed to convince Grant to invade Silence’s privacy, steal her things, stalk her … then what else is he capable of?”

I have no idea, but it’s not a coincidence that someone this obsessed with Silence just happens to have these resources. “Do you still have Grant’s phone?” Yale fishes it out of his pocket and hands it to me. The screen is cracked now, but it’s still working.

I find other folders dedicated to us, though they’re nowhere near as extensive as Silence’s. There are a few photos, nothing out of the ordinary, and not as violating as the ones of my wife.

A number suddenly flashes on the screen. Yale and I lock eyes as I answer the call and put it on speakerphone.

“Evening, gents,” Blake croons. “Or, I guess it’s morning now. What a shame I’m not waking up in bed next to my girl.” Anger sluices through my blood when I remember I almost let him sleep with her. He’d been watching her, doing God knows fucking what with her photos and possessions, and I let him walk right into our bedroom. “I’m guessing Grant has spilled the beans.”

“And then some,” I say. “You’ve lost your insider.”

He chuckles, low and confident. “Have I?”

Yale meets my eye, his jaw tight. I’d like to think he’s fucking with us, but we can’t underestimate him.

“How exactly do you know my wife?” I ask, and quiet stretches between us.

Blake clicks his tongue. “Maybe I don’t. Maybe I was stalking the legendary Silver brothers and fell in love when I spotted dear, sweet Silence.”

“Maybe you have a death wish.”

He chuckles. “We both know Xavier does. How’s he doing?”

“My brother has been through far worse.”

“Right. Two bullets to the back six years ago, broken jaw, fractured cheekbone, a few broken fingers … you’ve all got quite a laundry list of injuries. Except Yale. He’s clever enough to sit behind a computer.” What the fuck? I lean forward, but before I can speak, Blake does. “Ooh. I’ve got you speechless, Zayden Silver. What a fucking honor.”

“I’m going to give you one chance to drop whatever fucked-up fantasy you have,” I say, my voice low, the threat clear. I flex my fingers, tendons shifting beneath my skin, fresh blood seeping from my cuts. “You waste that chance, you die.”

Blake sighs as if dealing with a child. “I could do that. I could walk away, go home. I really, really could. Or you could give me everything, Z. The Agency. Your home. Yeah … that sounds like a much better deal to me.”

“And why the hell would I do that?”

His laugh is giddy. “Because if you don’t give it to me, I’ll take it. And believe me when I say you won’t survive the latter. If I don’t get what I want, Zayden, I tend to act out a little bit.”

I lean back in my chair. “So what you’re saying is … you’re a toddler.”

Yale huffs a laugh and looks away.

The line is quiet for a moment. “I’ve waited a long time for this moment, Zayden. I’ll stretch it out for as long as there are morsels left of you to eat, but eventually, I’ll get bored and just kill you all.”

I tap my fingers against the desk. “You wanna know the secret to actually scaring people, Ryker?” Quiet. “Don’t talk so fucking much.” I disconnect the call and meet my brother’s eye. “We move Silence somewhere safer, then we kill this prick.”

Chapter 10

Yale

The question I’ve been asked most in my life is if I ever wish I wasn’t a triplet. When you’re kids, it’s cute, and everyone admires how close you are. As you get older, people ask if you’re jealous, or competitive, or if you want to be different.