He dropped his free hand on my knee, warming.
He sat back again with a sigh, settling further into the seat and resting his head back. “Or we could just do this. I’m good with this.”
I leaned against his chest, finding it a muscled cushion. “You’re not going to get bored, are you?”
He chuckled. He drew quiet. Curled up into him, I started gazing out the far passenger side window. If I focused, I could make out a few details of the cotton field and the road. While there was a slight chill, sitting in his lap was warm enough. His body produced an amazing amount of heat.
“Sang?”
“Yes, Silas?”
He drummed his fingers on my knee. “Why’d the monkey fall out of the tree?”
I cracked a smile. “Don’t know.”
“Because it was dead.”
I giggled against his chest.
“That’s not good enough,” he said. He shifted underneath me. “That’s not a laugh. Why did the chicken cross the road?”
I knew the obvious, but expected something just as absurd as his first joke. “Don’t know.”
“To get to the other side,” he said in a voice that was about as serious as him asking me what the homework was for class.
I snickered, giggled louder and clutched at his shirt. Maybe his jokes were really lame and obvious but it was the way he said them that made it funny.
His fingers slid across my knee cap, dropping until he curled them underneath my thigh at the soft spot under my knee. He traced his fingertips across my skin. “We’re getting there,” he said as he tickled.
I choked out a short laugh, trying to smack his arm gently to get him to stop. “Silas.”
“I just want to hear you laugh.” His hand drifted over and dropped onto my stomach. His fingers sought out my side.
I inhaled sharply, not expecting the touch. They’d all gripped me from nearly head to toe, including around my waist and my stomach, but his fingers spilled out across my lower abdomen. As the tips traced below my belly button, sparks shot out through me, electrifying my skin in a completely different way than I was expecting.
“Hello,” he said. His fingers slid from my side and back to my belly button. “What’s this?” I thought he was suggesting he found a soft, more sensitive place to tickle, and I had stopped giggling to hide it. He curled his fingers there, stroking. Through my shirt, his fingers were warm, but the same sparks extended through me, reaching over every surface until a gentle tremble came over me.
My eyes shut on their own. My hands shot out, gripping his arm but not directing. The feeling was surprising. It reminded me of how I felt when Nathan had started biting my fingers, or when Kota nuzzled at my neck—only the feeling was so strong and I couldn’t hide it. My breath escaped me in a soft moan.
“Sang,” he breathed out, slowing his fingers.
I buried my face into his chest, embarrassed and unable to respond.
His breath fell heavy against my hair. His fingers stopped and he pressed his palm against my abdomen. It was soothing but his palm against the area still left me feeling warm and tingly. “I didn’t know,” he whispered. Was he apologizing?
I released his arm, not realizing I’d been hanging on to it still. “Silas,” I whispered. I clutched at his shirt again.
His hands shifted to my side and he sat up more in his seat. He released me and his palm found my cheek. “I have to tell you something.”
“What?”
His finger tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, but the strand fell back into my face. “Do you remember the party? When you and North were in that closet?”
As if I could forget. “Yes.”
“I think about it. Sometimes I wish I’d been in there with you.”
The meaning around his words hung in the air over us. “You’re here with me now,” I said in a soft voice.
His fingers stayed at the spot behind my ear. “I’m not sure I should be here with you like this.”
“Why not?”
He sucked in a sharp breath. He shifted underneath me again. His arm behind me held me up. He turned me toward him. His face was cast with a silvery glow of the low moon shining through the windshield. His eyes bore down into my face. His thick lips parted, moving slightly as if he’d wanted to say something but the words weren’t forming. He swallowed hard. His eyes zeroing in on my face. “Say it, Sang,” he commanded.
“Hm?” I mumbled, unsure.
“I can see it in your eyes,” he said. He kept a hand on my hip, holding me down in his lap. My back was against the steering wheel. His other hand drifted up, his palm warming my face again, but holding me in a way that forced me to look at him. “I can’t stand it. You want something. Tell me.”
“Silas?” I had no idea what I wanted.
He grunted. His fingers clutched tighter at my head as he lowered his face closer to mine. His breath teased my cheek. “Show me what it was like in that closet.” I was gripping at the undershirt on his chest to hold my balance against him. He released my face to find one of my hands and he brought it up until my fingers covered his lips. “Was it like this?” he asked through my fingers.
I started to nod.
“Tell me, aggele mou,” he pleaded under his breath. His eyes swallowed me up, bearing down on me. “Please. Anything. Did you tell him to kiss you like this?”
My heart thundered against my eardrums. “The others outside were egging us on,” I whispered, wondering if he even heard me. “He didn’t want to at first. But I put my fingers on his mouth.” I swallowed, holding back a warm shiver as his eyes never left mine. “I—.”
“Show me.”
I trembled now, unsure. My fingers pressed against his mouth, and he remained still, but his eyes were everywhere, begging me to do what he asked. I knew I was blushing, feeling awkward. It was like trying to hit Kota when he wasn’t hitting me back during training. Compared to North in the closet when I felt pressured to do it, here with nothing to egg me on except Silas and his eyes that were consuming me.
I counted off from three in my head to fake some courage and get myself to do it.
I leaned up, lifting to hover in his lap so I could reach my fingers at his mouth. My eyes closed. I touched my own fingers with my lips, pressing.
His lips below my fingers puckered. Silas kissed my fingertips. His mouth parted slightly, wetting my skin.
I remained still for a moment, and slowly started to back off. I was surprised to find myself breathing heavily as if I’d been running.
Silas’s eyes opened into narrow slits. “Aggele mou. He had you against the wall.”
I nodded slowly. I couldn’t find my voice. My throat was thick.
Silas leaned forward. He held me at the hip still, holding on to me while his other hand found my neck, cupping it in a gentle embrace. He pushed me slightly until my back was against the steering wheel.
I drew my hand back, dropping the tips of my fingers against my lips, like I’d done with North.
Silas lowered his head. His eyes closed. His lips met my fingers. With his hand at my neck, he held me in place firmly. He pressed his lips harder against my fingers.
The sparks returned, shooting from his lips, through my fingers and down into my chest, zeroing in on my thudding heart. I trembled under his touch. I wasn’t sure how to respond. The best I could do was hold my fingers up between us.
And, not for the first time, I wanted to let go and not have that barrier.
His lips parted again, and his mouth moved against my knuckles.
The hand at my hip slid over. His thumb stretched out until he rubbed at a spot just below my belly button.
I gasped against my fingers. I was losing it. My nose filled with his ocean scent. His warm fingers on my body were luring me to surrender. His kiss made silent promises.
Silas grasped at the side of my neck, massaging. He held me strongly before breaking the kiss, pulling back only a fraction of an inch. His dark eyes peered down a
t me, half closed.
His fingers traced again across my lower belly as he whispered. “Aggele mou, makári na boroúsa na se filí̱so̱.”
“Silas,” I mumbled.
But before I could ask what he’d said, his hand at my neck released me, and he took my hand from my mouth. He held it in his, drawing it away, until there wasn’t anything left between us except our mingling breaths.
He leaned in, his head tilted. His lips hovered over mine.
I sucked in a breath. My mind wanted to think of what this meant, but my heart had taken over and wouldn’t allow me to find an excuse to stop it or worry about what it meant. Silas was there in front of me. I cared about him. If he was going to be my first kiss, and this was how it happened, I wouldn’t be sorry.
But he didn’t move. He remained still, hovering, waiting, as if trying to decide.
He was so close. I wasn’t sure what to do. If I moved forward, it would be like I was kissing him first. Was that how it was going to happen? Did he stop because he wasn’t sure he wanted to?
I eased back a little, wanting to look up at him just in case something was wrong.
My back met with the steering wheel. The horn blared, loud and nearly echoing in what had been so silent a space a moment ago. The sudden blaring startled me so badly, I jumped forward, knocking my forehead into his nose.
“Ow.” Silas backed up, releasing my hand to cup his nose. “Shit.”
“Sorry!” I reached toward his face, wanting to do something to make it better or take it back. I stopped short, not wanting to touch him in case it hurt and I made it worse. “Sorry. I never said I was graceful.”
His eyes lit up, his lips twisted into a slow smile that spread into a grin. He started chuckling.
That set me off. I felt horrible, but the face he was making made me break out laughing. I jammed my fingers over my mouth to cover it. My shoulders shook as a wave of laughter threatened to steal my breath.
Silas sat back, pressing a palm to his forehead. “That’s what I wanted before.”
“Huh?” I asked, thinking he’d wanted me to bump into his face.
“M'aresei o tropos pos gelas. I love the way you laugh.”
My breath caught, cutting off the roll of giggles. I couldn’t stop grinning, but my heart was thundering at his words.
The sound of a car distracted me from what I was about to say. Lights appeared down the road.
Silas picked me up off of his lap to place me in the middle seat beside him. “Let’s let Victor do his thing. Maybe then we can go home.”
“Sorry,” I said again.
Silas smiled. He picked up my hand, held it to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I’m not.”
We focused on the car moving toward ours. Silas felt for the lights, and he flicked the bright lights on quickly as a signal to Victor.
The car slowed. When it got close, it pulled in front of ours. It was another sedan, but his lights were still on so I couldn’t see past the glare.
Silas held his fingers in front of his eyes. “Kill the lights, Vic,” he said to the windshield.
The car stopped a few feet from ours, front bumper to front bumper. It stalled there. The lights still shining into us. “What’s he doing?” I asked.
“Don’t know, aggele mou,” Silas said. “Give him a minute I guess.”
The phone in the passenger seat buzzed to life where I’d dropped it.
“Answer it,” Silas said.
I picked it up to find a text message.
Sang: That’s you in the car under the tree?
I smiled at the phone. “Are the car windows tinted? He couldn’t tell it was us.”
“Might be hard to tell, I guess,” Silas said. “He’s trying to make sure it’s us and not someone else. Not that there’s anyone else out there.”
“It’s dark out here,” I said. I wrote back.
Silas: Yes.
Sang: Do you want to hop over here?
Silas: You want me to get in your car?
Sang: Come on over.
“He wants me to get in his car.”
He glanced out at the car, trying to glance around the lights. “Okay,” he said. “Go on. He’s probably got something he wants to try.” He shrugged, hitting the unlock button on the doors. “Let’s go see what he wants.”
I gave Silas back his phone, and opened the passenger door. I stepped around it, stumbling over the uneven ground. The cool grass met my feet. I’d forgotten to slip my sandals back on, but I didn’t want to go back for them since it was a short distance.
Silas had his door open. He paused in the seat and he pick up his phone again and checked the screen. Victor must have sent in another message.
I crossed between the two cars in front of the lights. I was slower since it was hard to see in the blinding beams. The passenger door opened as Victor pushed it open from the inside. I blinked as my eyes adjusted after being in the beam of the headlights, trying to catch a glimpse of Victor’s face inside the windshield, but colors washed over my eyes still from the brightness.
Silas opened the door wider and got out, stretching. He patted his pockets, and then leaned back into the car for the keys still hanging in the ignition.
I reached the passenger door of the new car when another car turned the corner down the road. The engine in the oncoming car revved louder as it raced toward us. Curious at the sight of another car, I stopped, watching it.
“Sang,” a voice called to me from inside the car. “Get in. Hurry.”
But he sounded different. What was wrong with Victor’s voice?
The car zooming toward us flashed bright lights in our direction. A blaring horn filled the night. Someone in the oncoming car was leaning on the horn.
“Sang!” Silas called. I turned. He slammed the car door and raced toward me. “Get away from that car.”
“Don’t listen to them, Sang,” the voice from inside the car called. It was male, but was filtered somehow. It didn’t sound natural. The tone varied in pitch, and carried a strange mechanical sound to it. “I know what they do to you. Get in the car and we can run for it.”
I turned toward the car. The darkness inside made it impossible to see who it was. The dashboard lights didn’t work, and the front windshield was tinted. I just caught the outline of a shape. “Who ...”
I stopped short when the figure leaned forward, and instead of seeing a face, I saw a white mask, with slits cut out for the eyes; everything else was a blank canvas. It startled me enough that I staggered backward.
The flashing lights and the blaring horn sped closer. The car angled toward the stranger’s.
Silas’s arm caught me by the waist. In a quick motion, I was hauled up over his shoulder. He turned away, leaving me to dangle over his back as he started jogging toward the field, away from the cars. I managed to push against Silas’s back, holding myself halfway up so I could see what was going on.
The stranger’s car thrust into reverse without closing the door, but it was too late. The oncoming car met with its rear fender.
The cars crunched. They twisted around until the new car was facing parallel to the masked guy’s car. Someone inside was laying on the horn. A warning.
The masked man’s car was facing the road. The engine gunned. Wheels started spinning and then it lurched forward, zooming off back toward the city.
The new car was turning around, rolling forward as if to make chase, but stopped suddenly short.
“Silas,” I called. Silas stopped and shifted me until he was holding me in front of him, hugging me close.
The new car’s driver’s side door flew open.
Victor stepped out.
TOO CLOSE
“Who was that?” I asked from inside Victor’s BMW. Victor had left the other wrecked car by the side of the road. They had hustled me into the car and sped off without talking. Silas held me in his lap on the passenger side and his grip was tight enough to almost cause bruising, but I didn’t want him t
o release me. Victor’s face was unreadable as he drove on toward town. I’d been biting my tongue with my questions until I couldn’t stand it.
“I don’t know,” Victor said. He’d been tense before. I was worried he’d been injured when he’d smashed his car, though I didn’t see any blood and he wasn’t wincing. “But I know why you weren’t getting messages now. He’d cloned your SIM card.”
“What?”
“The data in your phone. He made a duplicate. He was catching all of your phone’s text messages and phone calls.”
Silas grunted. His arms were unrelenting around me. “It was him all along?”
“I couldn’t figure out why you all weren’t texting and responding. I checked the incoming data from the network. At whatever point he turned on his phone, all incoming messages started moving to his phone instead of yours. He’s been intercepting all of them.”
“You were right about him being able to track us,” Silas said. “He found us pretty quickly.”
“I couldn’t track Sang’s phone because there were two different pinpoints so the GPS was giving me an error.”
“How’d you know we were out here?” I asked.
“I had to lock onto Silas’s phone. I came to find you when I couldn’t get a response. When I saw the second car, I knew it was him.”
“Wait a second,” Silas said. “How did he manage to get a clone of her SIM card? Wouldn’t that mean he had to have taken her phone at some point?”
“She had to have set it down at school, I guess,” Victor said, his hands twisting at the steering wheel.
“He couldn’t have,” I said. “I keep it in my bra most of the time. I think I would have noticed if someone had taken it.”
“Can you promise me you do that? Can you tell me you’re sure you knew where your phone was all the time this week?”
I stiffened. “Kota had my phone for a while earlier today. Before all this started.”