I'd have time to decide.
Finishing my morning routine, I marveled at how he consumed me even now. My home was full of him, my head just as stuffed. Silver—Keswick—whatever I called him, he was firmly under my flesh.
I'll forget him. Eventually... I'll forget him.
Driving my car to work wasn't the escape I hoped for. I struggled to think about my day, or about navigating the low-mist of rain. When I parked my car twenty minutes later, he was still an echo in my head.
By the end of today, it'll be easier. It had to get easier. All I needed was time... space... distance. Lifting my eyes, I scanned the front steps of my workplace.
Silver was waiting for me.
I pulled up short, freezing where I was, trapped under the intensity of his stare. He was wearing a shiny leather jacket, the material slick from the light drizzle.
He took a step, then another, and I was still frozen. It wasn't until he reached for me that the spell broke.
“Pet,” he said, blinking as I backed away.
“I told you to leave me alone.”
“You did,” he agreed, his voice low and haunting. “But I can't. Not until I know why... and maybe not even then.”
I thrilled at how he phrased that, then I snuffed out the damn fire in me with a cold reminder. “You know why! There's no way you don't know what you did!”
All at once, his face fell. I was looking at a lifeless statue. “You remember,” he whispered.
“Yes,” I said. “I fucking remember.”
His arms were long enough to grab my shoulders. “Let me explain, Pet—”
“Don't call me that!” Wrenching away, I struggled to keep tears from my eyes. Around us, people slowed, listening but pretending not to. To them we were a couple having a spat, but I knew we were so much more.
Something akin to pain flooded his vision. His fingers hovered in the air, willing me to come back. “I won't walk away from you. I'm not going to vanish, not after everything. Let me talk to you.”
“You're wasting your time. I don't want to hear another word.”
“If you'd—”
“I said leave me alone!”
His eyebrows ran low, then he glanced over my shoulder. I started to turn, hearing Detective Roose before I saw him. “Miss Willow,” he said, walking up to stand beside me. His voice was light, not matching how fiercely he stared at Silver. “What's going on here?”
Sweat spread over the back of my neck. Glancing between the men, I understood the root of my fear. Here, right in front of Roose, was the man he'd been searching for. I'd done what he'd hoped; I'd led him right fucking to him.
It would have taken no effort to say, “That's the guy who hacked Old Stone.” The surface of my tongue was too parched to make a sound. I wasn't scared for me, though... I was scared for Silver.
I don't want him to go to jail.
He was the robber! He'd held me hostage! He'd ruined everything for me. Why were my guts rolling with unease at being the one to expose him to the public?
Because you still care about him. Even if you don't want to.
This would be my last act of kindness. I'd use it to make sure Silver left me alone forever. “Nothing is wrong, Detective.” I emphasized that last word.
Silver snapped his eyes to me, then back to Roose.
I said, “This guy thought I was someone he knew. But we cleared it up.”
“That so?” The detective rocked on his heels, flipping his coat back so that we could all see the shape of the gun holster at his hip. He was reading our interaction so easily, he could tell there was animosity brewing here.
Silver hadn't twitched. Not even his eyelashes moved. The heavy silence was broken only by the occasional rumble in the sky. The clouds were warning that the drizzle was going to get much worse.
I hoped that my warning to Silver was just as obvious.
Leave me alone, get out of here before Roose senses who you are. On some level I knew that was impossible, but my nerves said otherwise. I still didn't know why the hell I cared what happened to Silver, I just... did.
The sooner he left, the sooner I could stop thinking about him.
Lifting his chin, he focused his amber eyes on me. “Yes,” he said softly. “Everything is clear now.”
Barbed wire circled my heart, shredding it.
With a slow smirk aimed at Roose, he showed us both the back of his jacket. Quickly, he flicked up his collar. It only hid his neck, but that action felt like he was cutting himself off from me.
Stop letting him get to you. It was a firm, logical plea. This was what I'd wanted, I needed Silver to get out of my life. He was a bastard, a mad man, a fucking dream-killer.
But as I watched him fade slowly into the wet, foggy distance, the thorns in my chest dug deeper. I might have pushed off my heels and chased after him, except Detective Roose moved first.