Page 90 of Vows of Silence

Dear God, what the fuck is wrong with me?

I rounded the next corner and then, for reasons I couldn’t even begin to fathom, I stopped.

With shaking hands, I gripped the corner of the wall, peeping around to see where he was. To make sure he was still following me.

Why? Why did I want that?

When I heard the click of his polished shoes on the laminate floor, I grinned wickedly to myself and set off running again, almost laughing to myself.

Cameras, Isabelle. There are always cameras in your world.

Of course there was. My dad had cameras. Luca had cameras. Silas had “borrowed” Luca’s. Of course he had cameras here.

So how could I use them to my advantage?

“Most people avoid cameras. I like how you perform for them. For me.”

Luca’s voice whispered in my ear, and it got me thinking. Is that what Silas wanted, too? Did he want me to perform for him?

And if so, what performance was he expecting?

A memory came to the front of my mind, reminding me how he had reacted when I was under the sofa.

He’d told me to be quiet. He’d told me to stay hidden. But he knew I was there.

Just like behind the curtain. He had known, but he didn’t want this to be over.

He wanted me to keep running.

He wanted to chase me.

It was that thought that had me running down the marble stairs rather than back to where I thought my bedroom was.

It was that thought that had me heading towards the huge, heavy wooden doors, pulling them open and racing down the concrete stairs and into the woodlands surrounding the manor.

I laughed, feeling as though I had won the game, feeling as though I was victorious for once, and not the helpless victim of men who were more powerful than me. Who knew more than I did.

This time, I felt in control.

I knew I was going to get caught. I knew Silas would never actually let me leave. But I was controlling when. I was controlling how. I was controllingwhere.

At least I thought I was.

I made it to the end of the stone path before two large arms wrapped around me, one hand clamping over my mouth, heaving, smothered breathing in my ear.

Silas.

Chapter 29

The Flame

I screamed against the hand, trying to buck my body against the arms of steel that pinned me.

My back was pressed tight against his chest. He had one arm around my neck, my throat pressed against his inner elbow, his arm clamped heavily over my mouth. His other arm was around my waist, keeping me tight against him.

In a movement that felt effortless, he picked me up, his muscles barely flexing with my weight.

My feet kicked aimlessly at the air, and I tried to bend forward, to push myself away from him. But like a snake capturing its prey, Silas simply tightened his grip, spinning us around and marching us back into the house.