Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
“Silas, stop!” I pleaded. If he didn’t stop, he would undoubtedly kill him. The world would be down one horrible human being, but no matter what, Paul raised me and hadn’t always been that bad. When I was younger, he was a good man. He was loving and he took care of my mother and me. He loved her so much that when she died he just went down a hole he couldn’t get himself out of. Then the heroin and coke had taken hold of him and turned him into a different man.
At my words, Silas froze. He was so worked up that I could see his chest rising and falling in a rapid succession. For a second, I thought that my words and my feelings mattered to him. I walked up to him and touched his shoulder and suddenly he dropped his fist, not onto Paul’s face, but to his side. He got up with bruised knuckles and with Paul’s blood covering his hands like a glove.
“We’ve got to get him a doctor,” I shrieked, the hysteria apparent in my voice. I ran to Paul’s side and tried to stop the blood running from his nose and mouth as it streamed onto the floor beside his neck. His body was doubled over and he was shrinking into himself. In that moment, I felt sorry for the man I’d once called my father and a sadness washed over me. Somehow I knew that if I left now, I’d never see him again.
Silas stood there silent and immobile, his perfect black suit now crumpled and his hair a wild mess on his head.
“Silas, help him!” I howled.
When Silas finally moved, he ran outside. A few minutes later, Kyle came storming in with Silas following behind him.
“Jesus, Sy. What the fuck was the point of this?” Kyle asked, as he checked Paul’s pulse.
“Is he alive? He’s alive, right?” I grabbed Paul’s hand willing him to know I was there even if he was unconscious.
“How the fuck can you care about him?” Silas bellowed. His voice was laced with rage. I turned my head and saw him pacing back and forth, his fingers curled into a tight fist at his side.
“Go get him to calm the fuck down,” Kyle ordered as he got on the phone and started talking to whoever was on the other line. I walked over to Silas despite my every instinct telling me not to. His eyes looked deranged and his giant body was moving haphazardly, in a dangerous fashion. I didn’t want to be the next recipient of one of his uncontained blows.
“Silas,” I whispered softly. I took one of his bloody fists in my hand. He turned to me and I could swear that moment I touched him, the anger seemed to disappear from his eyes. Then, just as quickly, he turned his gaze away from me. I reached up gently touching his face, my hand brushing the most vicious scar on his face. That got his attention. His ice blue eyes looked into the deep brown of mine. Then ever so softly, so soft that I could barely hear him, he confided in me, “He wanted to use you, to hurt you, and for that he deserves to die. I regret nothing. Let’s go. Kyle will take care of the garbage.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me gently toward the front door.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I ripped my hand out of his grasp, turning to look at Paul. “I’m not going anywhere until I know he’s safe. I’m not stupid, I know how this world works. You’ll just have him killed.”
Silas started to scrub his face. He turned and looked at me, cupped my cheek in his hands, his hold strong, engulfing my face, reinforcing how massive his hands were and how easily he could hurt me without even breaking a sweat. He took a loose strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear pleading with me in silence.
“You have my word that he won’t be killed by me or anyone that works for me. Now, let’s go.” Silas grabbed me, lifted me over his shoulder like a rolled up carpet and carried me out the door. I kicked him the whole time. I wanted to know what was happening in the bar—whether or not his friend was killing my stepdad. Maybe he had it coming, but the only kind of ultimate vengeance I believed in was the one delivered by God. Silas was a bounty hunter, that didn’t give him a license to kill.
“Olivia, stop kicking me,” he bellowed as he opened the door and forced me into the car. I tried to propel myself out of the car by pushing my legs onto his brick of a chest. He grabbed my feet, moved me in farther, and climbed in behind me. I was useless against his massive bulk and superhuman strength.