All That Really Matters, Nicole Deese [best detective novels of all time .TXT] 📗

six men inside, counting cash and prepping bags of substances I could only guess at.” He touched his glass, spun it on his napkin. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t have a chance. It was over before it even began.”

I was barely breathing as I tried to imagine the scene. “What did they do to you?”

“Charged me, beat me with whatever they had on hand. It’s a wonder I wasn’t shot at. After a few blows to my head, they threw me down a flight of concrete steps at the back of the complex.” Silas paused, and every cell of my body seemed to pause along with him. “All while Carlos looked on.” Silas stared at his arm and flexed his fingers into a fist. “Nobody really knows how long I was out there, unconscious, or how I didn’t bleed out. But the police found me the next day after they were tipped off by a jogger. By the time I got to the hospital, the surgeon was concerned I’d lose all function in my right arm. My bone had been shattered in sixteen places. It took four surgeries, but I have just over eighty-five percent functionality back.”

“Oh, Silas . . .”

“Turned out, I’d walked straight into a drug ring. Once the DEA found them all, I testified against them, my brother included. Carlos served three years as an accomplice with a prior, getting a break for his testimony against the others involved.”

It was so much worse than I believed possible. Horrifying. “Is that when you started getting the migraines?”

“Yes. The doctor believes they’re from the concussion I had.”

I traced the path of his scar one more time, trying to imagine the surgeries he’d endured. “And he’s out on parole again now?”

“He’s in Bellingham, or so he says.”

The revelation raised the hair on the back of my neck. “Did you stay in contact with him while he was in prison?”

“No. He sent a few letters to my parents’ house at first, but I told my mom to toss them. I couldn’t . . .” He shook his head. “I just couldn’t do it again. I can’t keep reopening the same wound, believing things will be different. No matter what he claims now.”

“You mean, that day he called you at the manor—while you were in my office. He was asking something of you?”

“He wants me to meet up with him. He claims some pastor he met in prison has been mentoring him and that he’s a changed man.”

My expression lifted, along with my hope. Miles had done prison ministry in years past. If that pastor was anything like my brother, then—

Silas shook his head, something desperate in his eyes as he spoke to me. “I can’t let him into my life again, Molly. I know I lead a ministry to save the kids who can still be saved, but my brother isn’t a seventeen-year-old drop-out anymore. He’s a thirty-seven-year-old convict who’s caused massive destruction at every turn and to every relationship he’s ever had.”

I had no words to offer him. No condolences that could touch the kind of pain I saw in his eyes. But I got it now. I understood why Silas had given up everything to serve the kids in our community. Because I’d be willing to bet that he saw his brother in the eyes of every single one of them.

He looked down at my hand, smoothed his thumb over my knuckles, and contemplated something I wished I could hear. But even though he didn’t speak, he also didn’t let go. Not at the table while we stayed and talked for another two hours. Not as we walked through the parking lot to my car. Not even as we drove back to his place so I could drive myself home.

He’d simply held on to my hand, and I held back.

As we parked in his driveway, ready for me to switch from passenger to driver once again and end this perfectly imperfect day, I slipped my hand from his, not wanting to manipulate him in any way. Because if Silas wanted to hold my hand as a friend he’d come to care for, one he’d entrusted an intimate piece of his story to, then I needed to be okay with that.

I would make myself okay with that.

But if there was something more, even at the smallest of levels, then my heart needed to know it. I needed to know it.

“Today has been one of the best days I’ve had in a really long time. Thank you, Silas. For offering to drive around town and for teaching me how to play darts and for telling me about your family and . . . for all your patience with my indecision about the place setting. You’ve been a perfect gentleman.”

He turned to me, his dark eyes steady on mine. “I would have driven you a thousand miles for the right place setting. I’m glad you found one that made you happy.”

Heat flamed in my chest at the risky admission that rolled over my tongue. “Turns out, it wasn’t the place setting that made me happy today. It was the company I was with. Somehow, every time I’m with him, he helps me see things more clearly.”

“Turns out, she helps him see things more clearly, too.” My throat constricted as his gaze dipped to my mouth. “This will complicate things, Molly.”

“I’m not afraid of complicated.”

He smiled and brought his hand to my cheek. “I’m not, either.”

And then Silas’s lips were on mine and his hand was at the back of my head and all the fantasies I’d ever had about a first kiss were forced to bow to my present reality, because this man kissed the same way he drove. The same way he threw a dart. The same way he passed a bar exam while working full-time with the forgotten youth in his community.

Like a perfectionist with something to prove.

26

Silas

I arrived at Fir Crest Manor early to run the trailhead only a half