Charcoal Tears (19 page)

Crystal patted me on the head. “Go ahead, Pipsqueak, try ‘em on.”

I was embarrassed changing in front of them, but they didn’t seem inclined to go anywhere, so I shucked my shorts and pulled on the leather skirt. It was skin-tight and only just covered my bum. I tugged it down until it rode my hips. At least this way it was a little longer. I threw on the singlet, trying to pull it away from my body. It slapped back. Stubborn.

“Christ,” I choked out, a despairing lump forming in the back of my throat.

Ruby whistled. “Who knew you were hiding all that, huh?”

Crystal grinned, turning me by the shoulders and giving me a swat on my newly leather-encased bum. I filled up the shot trays in the kitchen, hiding back there for as long as I could, and then ran down to the door, trying to escape Henry’s eyes. I situated myself a little way behind the security guard and started stamping people. One dropped his wallet, one handed me fifty dollars for no reason, and another tried to back me into the wall and grope me. The security guard had to pull him off and send him on his way. The initial rush of people passed, and my skin was hot with anger, my tongue heavy with an acidic taste that burned all the way to the back of my throat.

Silas still hadn’t turned up, and I checked the clock every few minutes, trying to drag out the time until someone came down and told me they needed me upstairs. I had almost given up when he stepped through the door, and the relief that sagged through me almost had me falling over. He grabbed my arms, his eyes roaming over me.

“
What the fuck
?”

For some reason, tears sprang up in my eyes. His hands were rough, and the dark fire in his eyes was furious, but nobody in the world knew me as well as this person whose name I’d only found out a matter of days ago. Nobody would understand how
out of place
I was feeling, how deep I found myself in a hole that I hadn’t even realised that I’d been digging until I couldn’t see the outside world anymore. I wanted to tell him to take me home, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t a victim; I hadn’t been since the valcrick had started saving me all those years ago. I wasn’t going to fall into the damsel-in-distress role now. I forced the tears away, pulled out his hand, and stamped him. I turned and headed up the stairs and he followed me, radiating tension. I fetched my first shot tray for the night and started to make the rounds.

“Oh hell
yes
, I like this change, babe.” An unfamiliar face popped up before me, shoving a bunch of notes straight into my cleavage and grabbing a handful of the shots.

I turned away and dropped the tray onto a nearby table, dread churning in my stomach as I pulled the notes out hastily and tugged the singlet up to shield some of the exposed skin. This pulled the bottom of the singlet up, leaving a stretch of skin bare above the top of the leather skirt. I clenched my fists and warmth suffused me from behind, the unmistakable brush of Silas pressing into me sweeping away my panic for the barest of moments. He was vibrating with emotion, a growling sound reverberating between us, and I was glad that I couldn’t see his face, because I knew that he would be furious. Except that
furious
was too mild a word for Silas’s anger. He was unstable; he was nuclear.

He reached around me and swiped at the tray, sending little plastic cups tumbling to the ground. He slapped a bill onto the table and then disappeared. I grabbed the money, not bothering to check how much he had left me and stalked straight to Henry’s office. I flung the door open and he jumped, straightening away from the security camera footage he’d been watching.

I declared, “I can’t wear this.”

His eyes roamed. Caught. Lingered.

“It looks good.”

A curse caught in the back of my throat. “I won’t wear this. I’ve never had a problem doing my job wearing my own clothes. If anything, this,” I indicated myself with a quick, angry movement, “makes it harder. I’m going to change, and then you can tell me if I still have a job at the end of the night.”

I slammed his door heavily before he could answer and made my way to the locker room, dropping the money off behind the bar first. He didn’t want a
little girl
working for him? Well, then, he’d just witnessed me grow-the-hell-up. Maturity had nothing to do with cleavage and leather; maturity was managing to do my job without planting my fist into my new boss’s face. I tore the clothes off my body and put my own clothes on, and then I went back out and finished off the shot trays. An hour before closing, I started collecting bottles and empty glasses again, and slid into Silas’s corner table for a break.

“You don’t disappear every Sunday.” I said it more to myself than to him. “You come here.” He remained silent. He didn’t even indicate that he was aware of me sitting there beside him, but I continued regardless. “I don’t start work until evening, though… so what do you do for the rest of the day?”

When he still didn’t answer, I leaned forward a little bit until my shoulder brushed against his, my eyes narrowing upon his jaw—where a muscle ticked away, betraying his impassive act. His arm tightened against mine, and I sensed that he was seconds away from drawing back from me, so I fired off my next words like the weapons that I suspected them to be. “We’ve got a bond. You can share secrets with me.”

He whipped around to face me, his black eyes widening and then narrowing. “Who told you that?”

“Miro said I have a bond with you four. Two pairs: Noah and Cabe, and you and Miro.”

His eyes searched my face, his whole person twisted to face me, seemingly bowing over me; I had his full attention now. “What did he tell you exactly?”

“We’re connected. If you guys are strong, I’m also strong.”

“That’s all?”

I shrugged, though his reply had made me instantly suspicious, along with the neutral tone with which it had been delivered. “Yeah, pretty much. Is there more?”

He leaned back. I felt that all of my cards had been thrown onto the table, and he was disregarding them as wholly underwhelming. There was much that Quillan hadn’t told me, it seemed. Silas crossed his arms over his chest, his head falling back against the wall behind his booth seat, his eyes lowering to half-mast. I glanced at the table, half expecting to see more than just his one usual glass, but there it was, by itself.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that, angel. I don’t give up secrets easily.”

I nodded, accepting what he had said for what it was: a warning veiled as a challenge… the kind of challenge that dissuaded foolish grapples for victory.

“I’m not scared of you,” I muttered, almost angrily.

I stood before he had a chance to form another reply to advance this strange war between us, and the rest of the night passed quickly—with me studiously ignoring him. At the end of the night, I collected my tips and knocked on Henry’s office door. He yelled for me to come in, and I deliberately left the door wide open behind me.

“You can stay, but don’t make me regret it,” he told me, “and if you’re going to wear your own clothes then don’t make it look like you just came out of playgroup. Now get the hell out of here.”

11

Action and Reaction

I closed the door without a word and ran down to the parking lot where Silas waited.

I hesitated before getting into the car, my hand on the door handle. “Can we stop off to get food and then go to see Tariq?”

He nodded—the only acknowledgement that I received, but at least he didn’t ignore me completely.

I collected enough food to use up all of my pay, minus twenty dollars, which I saved so that Tariq would be able to put petrol in the car if he needed it. With enough food in the house, Gerald wouldn’t rage about money. He wouldn’t have an excuse to. Silas threw a few extra things into the trolley as well, and I didn’t think twice about it, mostly because I was busy watching
others
. I hadn’t noticed until now, but every female within a mile radius seemed to pick up on him, like they could smell his testosterone or something freakish like that. They checked him out from head to toe, and only those that met his eyes flinched and looked away. Was it the danger that drew women to him? Was it the danger that drew
me
to him?
It was certainly tangible; he wore it like a cloak, shrouding his expression in darkness and insinuating it into the predatory way in which he moved.

I was off-balance by the time we got to the register. When I tried to pay, he caught my hand, closing his fist around my money, and handed his card over. I was too shocked that he had done something nice for me, that I didn’t argue then and there, and I didn’t find my voice until we were back in the car and heading toward my house.

“Thanks,” I croaked, making a mental note to add this shopping bill to the list of money that I owed Cabe from the previous shopping trip.

“If you want to thank me, quit your job.”

“I…”
hadn’t expected you to say that.
“Why? You’ve known about my job for ages.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to sit there every other night and watch…” His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and I started to feel sorry for it. I checked to make sure he wasn’t warping it, but it seemed to be retaining shape—“I end up following some of them home.”

My mind went blank, his words on an echo reel in my head, making less and less sense with each ghostly repetition. “What are you talking about?”

He took one of the turns too sharply, almost throwing me up against the passenger door. I grabbed the seat beneath me with one hand and yanked on the belt strapped across my chest until it pulled taunt and I could hold onto it like a handle.

“You think it’s a coincidence that people only try grabbing for you once and then never touch you again?” he asked.

I couldn’t believe my ears, and yet, somehow, in some infinitely perverted way… it made perfect sense. “What have you done, Silas?”

“Don’t ask questions that you don’t want to know the answers to, angel.”

“You haven’t hurt anyone have you?”

He pulled the Jaguar to a stop outside the house, his eyes drifting to the front door.

“It’s hard enough not to do something to your father. All year I’ve seen your bruises when you turn up to work, and we’ve all heard Miro talking about it. He’s your family, so I couldn’t interfere. Both those other assholes…” he shook his head, “they were nothing. Nothing to you, nothing to me.”

“They’re still
someone
—not to us, but everyone has people, Silas.”

He shook his head again, a short laugh bursting from his lips as his head fell to the side, his glittering onyx eyes settling on me. “Why do you think I want you to stay away from us? Have you really thought about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“I want you to be safe. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve been keeping you safe for a long time now, but there’s something I simply can’t protect you from, and the closer you get to us, the closer you will get to
it
. Tell me,” his eyes narrowed, his shoulders hunching forward, “how would you feel if somebody hurt me?” I didn’t answer, but my reaction must have shown on my face, for his lips quirked in a humourless way. “You see?” He let his hands fall from the steering wheel to his lap. “That’s the bond. Every week, I see your busted lips and black eyes. One day you’re limping, and the next your arm is in a sling. Every fresh mark on your skin… I have to get it out and I have to hurt the others so that they don’t ever get a chance to add to it, because I wouldn’t be able to handle any more.” He ground the words out chillingly, their delivery seeming to cause him physical pain.

The darkness in Silas ran deep, and our
bond
, our
connection
, had contributed to it. I hated that.

“It doesn’t really hurt.” I wanted to reach over and touch his hand, but wasn’t sure if he would welcome it. “It hasn’t hurt in a very long time, because I’m not afraid of him anymore. And if I can handle Gerald, I can handle a few drunk guys at work, alright?”

He turned away from me, hiding his reaction to my words. He knew I wanted a promise, but he wasn’t willing to give one. We waited in silence for a little while, and when he again faced me, he was the stranger from the bar once more; his brief foray into emotional territory already forgotten.

“Let’s go,” he said, opening the door.

We loaded our arms with grocery bags and I knocked on the front door. My father wouldn’t be home yet, but we only had about half an hour until he would be. I had to knock a few times, but eventually the door swung open and a cautious Tariq peered out.

When he saw me he kicked the door wide and pulled me in for a hug. “Seph? God, are you okay?”

He pushed me back, running his eyes over me to check for bruises or missing limbs or something, and then glanced at Silas. His hands fell and he blinked several times, his brows drawing down in confusion.

“Mr. Quillan?”

I held in my laugh. “Ah, this is his brother. Silas.”

Tariq peered closer and then immediately flinched and took a step back. “Probably would have preferred Mr. Quillan,” he muttered, almost to himself.