Page 34 of Sharing Silence

I close my eyes as she presses herself into my neck, crying softly. She’s small and trembling, and I wrap my arms around her and squeeze, burying my face in her hair and drinking up every second.

I’m in agony. My wounds ache, especially the fucker on my abdomen. I feel it split and warm blood flow, but she needs me, so I don’t let go.

When I open my eyes, Zayden is watching us. There’s no jealousy or concern in his expression, but there never would be.

It’s dark when we reach the gates of Brat’Ya Manor. No lights line the walled gardens, and when this place is blanketed in fog, you could easily drive right into the property. We only know we’re getting close because of the bend that leads to slightly denser gravel. Yale slows then stops at the thick, towering wooden gates, typing a code into his phone, then scanning his thumb on a separate app. A few seconds pass, and we’re granted entry.

The driveway is close to two miles long and leads to a manor sitting in the middle of a field, surrounded by yellowing knee-high grass. It’s creepier than if the place were filled with twisted, dead trees, but it’s also one of the reasons we bought it. We have clear lines of vision to the entire perimeter, meaning no one can approach without being incredibly fucking obvious.

The manor was probably pretty at one point. Made of white stone, the front jutted out and held up by columns, it looks like something straight out of Greek mythology. The stone is dirtied, heavy with moss and ivy brave enough to scale the walls of the two-story home. The windows are black, encrusted with God knows what over time, or maybe ghosts have drawn the blinds. I hug Silence a little closer, because why would my imagination even go there?

Fucking ghosts.

With only the headlights to guide us, we may as well be driving into a horror show.

“We need to sweep the place,” Zayden says as Yale pulls the car to a stop outside the property. “It’ll take a while. You okay to stay with her?”

I shift in place, shaking my head. “I can help.”

“I don’t want Silence waking up alone.”

“She’d probably prefer to be with Yale or you, anyway.”

Zayden unclips his belt. “You got stabbed. Twice. Take a break.”

They exit the car, Bullet following, and the interior lights dim and go out. Resting my head back against the seat, I close my eyes. My breathing slows, Silence sighs, and⁠—

I blink myself awake, jerking my head up. Silence isn’t in my arms, and my heart slams into my ribcage until I realize she’s lying on the back seat, her feet on my lap.

“Fuck me,” I whisper, rubbing the heel of my palm into my chest. Silence shivers, and I realize the heat has gone off. I have no idea how long I was asleep, but I can’t see any light inside the manor. My side throbs as I shrug off my jacket and cover Silence. She shudders, releasing a juddering breath.

“Cold,” she whispers.

I let out a groan. “Come here, then.”

She sits up, one eye closed, her hair disheveled. “Hm?”

Grunting against the pain, I pull her onto my lap. Sinking as low as the space allows, I hold Silence against me and cover her again with my coat. My T-shirt must have fused to the stab wound with my blood, so when I shift, it comes free and I grit my teeth.

“You okay?” Silence mumbles.

“Go to sleep.”

She hums, whispering something about me being rude, and then my eyes are closed, and sleep swallows me again.

A soft, rhythmic beep signals the car door is open, and a chill sweeps across me. I open an eye and lift my head, watching as Zayden brushes Silence’s hair from her face to wake her gently. She’s still nestled into my chest, her breath tickling my throat.

“Baby, wake up.”

She groans, stretching against me. “I’m cold.”

She’s right. It’s fucking freezing. The only parts of me that are remotely warm are where we’re connected and I fight the urge to wrap my arms around her.

“It’s warmer inside,” Zayden says, holding out his hand. She reaches for him, and in the dim light, red shines across her palm.

Shit.

My T-shirt is soaked in blood, and Silence’s eyes widen.