32. Juliet

The sunshine isbright the next morning, and Silas has the solar panels set up with the generators on the porch when I walk outside.

"Good morning," he says with a smile. "You slept like a log."

I rub my eyes. "Yeah, well, when I get to sleep with you, I guess I sleep better."

"I'm glad to hear it." He looks up at the sky, and his expression shifts for a moment. "I don't much like these clouds."

The clouds swirling above us are thick and dark, almost green. The air is sticky with humidity, and the wind is blowing through the tops of the tall trees. I look back at him, and he sets about packing up the generators.

"We should move."

"OK, but have they charged enough to get us to Roanoke?"

He lifts one generator and pushes it into the bed of the truck. "I don't know, we'll try."

"But what if we don't -"

"It's alright, angel." He cuts me off with a wide smile as he picks up the second generator and deposits it back in the truck. "You have nothing to worry about. I'll keep you safe no matter what happens."

We drive away from the crumbling house just as the first crack of thunder sounds in the distance.

"Maybe we're driving away from it," I say, gazing out the window at the clouds that just keep getting darker and darker.

"Yeah, maybe." Silas sounds as unsure as I do.

I try to ignore the impending storm, playing with my fingers as I try to think about something to talk about other than the uncertainty of our situation, but Silas beats me to it.

"Tell me about your brother," he says as we take the turn back into the highway.

"Kaden?" I sigh heavily. "Um, well, he was tall, and uh, he was on the wrestling team in high school. He was real strong, and he ate like crazy. Mom used to joke about needing a second mortgage just to feed him."

Silas laughs, his hand flexing around the steering wheel as he reaches over with the other to curl his fingers around mine. "Did he want to become a professional wrestler?"

"No, he wanted to be a cop, like my dad, but my dad tried to talk him out of it."

Silas's gaze flickers over to me. "Oh?"

"My dad hated being a cop. He said he became one to do good, and all he saw was corruption."

"Why didn't he get out of it?"

I shrug. "I guess… I think he was worried about not being able to support us, and he wanted us to be secure and out of the house before he and mom…" I trail off.

"Sorry, we don't have to talk about this."

"It's alright, I guess sometimes it still hits me that back then we thought we had so much time. All that life ahead of us, and now…" I gaze out the window. The clouds are becoming thicker, and lightning flashes in the distance. "Now, I don't even know what a future would look like."

"What did you get out of your locker?"

I fidget with a loose thread on my pants. "I have a locket, with a picture of me and Kaden in it. My mom gave it to me when I left home to go to college, because she knew I'd miss him. She'd worn it since we were kids. It's the only thing I had with me when they rounded us up. I wasn't allowed to keep the chain, but I have that at least." I gaze over at him. "And you? What did you take with you?"

"A cassette tape and a polaroid picture." His mouth quirks. "Do you even know what a cassette tape is?"

"Haha," I drawl sarcastically. "Yes I do. What's on it?"

Silas takes a heavy breath. "It's the recording of the top 40 countdown, on the radio. But in the background you can hear my… my friend and I, laughing. It's the last recording I have of her."

"Is she the girl in the picture?"

He nods, hands flexing around the steering wheel. "Yeah."

"What happened to her?" I feel like I'm prying, like he doesn't want to talk about this, but he huffs out a breath, leaning his head back as his eyes stay tilted towards the road.

"She killed herself, after… After some boys at school assaulted her."

My stomach drops, and I feel cold all over. "Oh jesus, I'm so sorry."

His hand shoots over to grab mine. "I shouldn't have said anything. I shouldn't have told you."

"No, no it's fine, I mean, I wanted to know. I'm sorry. I just… That's so sad." I realize now just what my attempt would have set off, what painful memories Silas would have had to face. "I'm sorry if I brought that all back."

He looks over at me with a heavy frown. "What? No. That's not - Juliet, I was distraught because of what happened to you. Of course it brought back bad memories, but that's not what you should be worried about. I was able to help you, and save you. I…" He trails off, looking back at the road with slumped shoulders. "I mean, I hope I helped you."

"You did. Really, you did." I squeeze his hand, desperate for a change of subject. "I still remember the first time I saw you, in the cafeteria. I remember thinking you'd be attractive if you were alive."

Silas's shoulders lift as he chuckles. "Is that right?"

"In my defense, you did stare at me in a pretty creepy way."

"Yeah, I did that a lot those first few months." His mouth lifts into a grin. "Even while you were asleep."

I gasp and swat at his arm. "You pervert!"

He snaps up my wrist and hauls me into him, wrapping one arm around me as he continues to drive. "Don't even pretend that doesn't get you all hot and bothered." He chuckles as I glare up at him. "You need to accept you're a little freak."

"I guess I just needed you to help discover that."

"I guess so."

Thunder rumbles loudly, so loudly we can hear it clearly over the engine. The trees lining the highway are swaying heavily, torn back and forth by the wind that's starting to howl. I look out of the rear window, and the clouds on the horizon are a dark forest green, riddled with lightning bolts.

"This storm is getting worse."

Silas huffs out a breath through gritted teeth. "Dammit."

"Where are we?" I look around us, but we're on a stretch of highway with no discernible markers, no abandoned buildings, nothing but trees as far as the eye can see.

"We're in South Carolina," Silas says, leaning over the steering wheel to look at the storm through the windshield. "But we can't keep driving in this." Tiny hailstones begin to ping against the truck, interspersed with fat drops of rain that bead and race down the windows.

"Where do we go?" I don't like the panic that laces my voice, but for some reason the idea of being stuck out on a highway in rural South Carolina while a tornado is building doesn't make me feel good.

Before Silas can answer, a fence appears along the edge of the road, running the tree line until it leads to a huge wood and iron gate. One side hangs on just by the lower hinge, the other lies flat on the road. Overhead, in swirly black wrought iron, is the name Chapel View.

"That's probably an old estate," I say, pointing at the gate. "If we're lucky it's still standing, and they might have a storm shelter."

Silas turns the wheel, and we bump along what was once a nice paved drive, but is now riddled with holes, the pavers standing up haphazardly or gone completely. The space left behind by the missing gate is wide enough for the truck to fit through easily.

Live oaks line the drive, long mossy tendrils swaying wildly in the wind. It's almost a little eerie, their color stark against the bruised sky above us.

Then the house comes into view ahead, tall and grand with towering white columns. Vines have taken over much of the frontage, but it's still impressive, if a little gothic and imposing in this light. I lean forward, bracing my hands against the dash as we approach.

There's a circular drive, covered in a maze of ivy, and in the middle stands an old fountain. A statue of a woman draped in a toga, a jug in her arms from which once poured water into the large basin below, stands on top.

"Well someone was well off," Silas says as he brings the truck to a stop. He gazes up at the big house, and shakes his head, before gunning the engine again.

"Where are you going?"

"To find something smaller." We round the house, following the ivy tracks through the trees and past an old barn. "Houses like this will have smaller houses around them, and that place is ridiculous."

Sure enough, we come upon a smaller farmhouse, and it's so perfectly preserved I have to blink several times to make sure I'm not imagining it. It has two gables, and a white porch that's only missing a few posts from the railing. There are even faded curtains still hanging in the windows.

"How is this place still standing like this?" I murmur. "It looks like someone still lives there."

Silas brings the truck to a stop and turns to me. "Stay here, with the doors locked and keep your head down, understand?"

I nod, ducking down in my seat. Silas grabs a gun from underneath his seat, even though he probably doesn't need it. He climbs out of the truck, and the locks click into place. I try not to panic again, taking deep even breaths and reminding myself that the house is more than likely empty, it probably just looks like someone lives there, it's fine.

The minutes tick by, and the thunder overhead seems to growl almost constantly. The wind swishing through the trees is almost as loud as the storm, and the truck wobbles a little as it's battered by a gust.

I inhale sharply as Silas tears the door open and climbs back in.

"All clear, just going to park the truck in the barn and then we can go and take shelter in there."

"Does it have a basement?"

Silas nods, pulling up outside the barn. "I"ll go open the doors." He turns to me with a smile. "You can drive, right?"

I blink at him. "Uh, yeah, I can, but-"

"Good, I'll open the doors, you drive in." He climbs out before I can protest, and I stare at the steering wheel for a good few seconds.

I can drive. My mom taught me how, years ago. She was a good driver. I was a good driver. But my palms are clammy as I slide into the driver's seat.

My feet brush the pedals, and I grip the steering wheel as Silas throws back the doors of the barn and waves me in. OK, this is OK. I can do this. No big deal.

I shift into drive, and the engine roars as I realize the emergency brake is still on. I release it, and the truck lurches forward. I slam my foot on the brake, and Silas laughs, waving me on. I take a deep shuddering breath, and gently press my foot down on the gas. The truck moves forward, into the dark barn, and once I've cleared the door, I bring it to a stop.

My hands are shaking when Silas opens my door.

"See?" He grins up at me. "You never forget how to drive."

"That was so weird."

"But so cool, right?" He raises an eyebrow.

I nod, my shaking hands still gripping the steering wheel. "Yeah. And normal."

Silas's grin melts into a warm smile. "Come on then." He puts a hand over mine on the steering wheel. "Let's get inside before this rain gets any heavier."

I nod, putting the truck into park before I push down the emergency brake and kill the engine. Silas scoops me down out of the seat, and I wobble on his arm as my feet touch the ground.

"Alright?" He asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Why has driving a car set me off like this?

I let Silas guide me across the yard back to the sweet little farmhouse, and he pushes through the faded red door into the foyer.

It's gorgeous. Dusty, for sure. But it's all perfect, like the owners just walked out a few weeks ago to go on vacation. White stairs lined with blue carpet lead up to the second story, and a hallway leads past them down to what looks like a kitchen.

To our right is a lounge room with overstuffed sofas and a big rug with an indiscernible pattern on it. Faded checkered curtains hang on the windows, through which lightning flashes wildly. Rain begins to beat down on the roof.

"How does this place still look so nice?" I ask, taking a few tentative steps into the lounge room.

"It's like this upstairs too," Silas says, running a hand over his damp hair. "I have to wonder if someone was here until recently."

"How would they not have been discovered?" I walk closer to the fireplace, to the mantlepiece lined with candles.

"It's pretty isolated out here," Silas says, putting the bags he carried in from the truck down on the sofa. "But either way, no one's been here for a while, and we can wait out the storm." He gestures for me to follow him, and we head through a narrow hallway into the kitchen.

"Oh wow," I murmur. It's an old kitchen, still equipped with a wood stove. A table with bench seats is built into a bay window, a glass lantern hanging over it. Wooden counters with green-fronted doors are built around the edge, with a large copper sink under another window to our left. "This place is adorable."

"Dream home, angel?" Silas asks me with a smile. "And look what else I found." He goes to a tall cupboard door and throws it open. It's a pantry, completely stocked with tins of food and bags of grains. I almost shriek in surprise, rushing at the cupboard and pulling two of the tins from one of the shelves.

"Spaghetti-os?" I can't help but laugh, and Silas's eyes are sparkling as I look up at him, mouth agape. "You have to be kidding."

"Guess I won't need to go and find that roadkill after all, ey?"

I look back down at the cans in my hands. "No, these have to all be out of date."

Silas shakes his head. "Nope, I can smell that everything in here is absolutely fine. Believe me, rotten food is pungent. If it was off, I'd know."

An incredulous laugh bubbles from my lips. "I can't believe this. All this food." I shove my head back into the cupboard and squeal as my hands fall on a red and white tin. "There's beanee weenees!"

"There's what?" Silas asks from the stove, where he's attempting to start a fire.

I snatch up the can and display it to him proudly. "Beanee weenees! It's beans and franks! My grandma used to make them for us when we went camping."

Silas snorts and shakes his head. "And you Americans say British food is disgusting."

I hug the can of beans to my chest like an old friend as Silas gets a fire going in the stove, before lighting the lantern over the table. The storm is getting stronger, wind whistling through the eaves of the old house, but it's all strangely comforting.

I find some old saucepans under one of the benches, and Silas rinses them out with some water before tearing open the tin of beans like he's simply taking off a bottle cap. He dumps them in the saucepan, stirring them as they bubble, and the smell of my childhood fills the kitchen.

My mouth is watering violently by the time they're heated through, and Silas laughs heartily when I start eating straight from the pan.

"Hungry, angel?"

I nod, my mouth too full to respond. I didn't even notice how hungry I was, but I'm convinced this is the best meal I've ever had in my life. My eyes damn near roll back in my head as I take one delicious mouthful after another, until the pan is practically clean.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, then give Silas a small smile when my eyes meet his. "Um, I was really hungry."

He leans back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, smiling as he shakes his head. "Well, I'm glad that hit the spot then."

I lick my lips. "It did. Very much."

"Good." He looks around the kitchen with a sigh. "Well, this is definitely the place to bunker down for the night."

Or forever. I don't say it, but the thought makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. This cute little house, just me and Silas. Just me and Silas. I balk a little, rubbing my arm as I try to count and remember the last time they gave me a depo shot. I do the math, then do it again, and again, and after a minute I see Silas watching my face curiously.

"Everything OK?"

I swallow hard, then nod quickly, walking over to him and wrapping my arms around his waist. "Yeah, everything's fine. More than fine."

"Good." He lowers his mouth to kiss me, and even though I know it's irresponsible to get pregnant now, and I really don't want to, the thought of it sends shivers down my spine. His hands run up and down my back, cupping my ass, and suddenly he's lifted me up and spun us so I'm on the kitchen counter. "You taste ridiculous right now," he says with a laugh against my lips.

"Welcome to the South."

He laughs again, yanking my shirt off over my head. "Indeed."

His eyes move hungrily over my breasts as he unbuckles his belt, and I lift my ass to scooch off my pants. I put my heels up on the bench as he undresses, and his naked body takes my breath away every single damn time. He's just too beautiful.

He drops to his knees, running his tongue up my center in one long lick, and my toes curl around the edge of the counter. "Mmm," he growls, "this tastes exquisite though."

I never realized how much I'd held back before, even when we were out in the forest, even when we were in Silas's cabin - there'd always been something locking me down, not letting me really let go the way I wanted to. Even when he'd been in my ass, and given me the orgasm that I thought was going to fry every neuron in my brain, I'd been aware somewhere in the back of my mind that someone might hear us, that we'd get found out and Silas would get hauled away and tortured.

But here, in this charming kitchen in a farmhouse hundreds of miles from the compound, I gasp and moan, my hands carving through Silas's hair as he sucks on my clit, screaming his name as I come. I tremble on the counter, my head slung back against the wall, as Silas rises to his feet. I open my eyes to watch him as his dick slides inside me, the sheer ecstasy on his face as he fills me completely almost enough to unravel me right then and there.

He fucks me slowly, taking his time, looking down to watch himself sink into me, pressing his thumb to my still-throbbing clit.

"Fuck," he breathes. "I could watch this pussy stretch like this for me all day." He hisses in a breath as I moan. "That's a good girl, getting so tight for me. Come on my cock, angel. I want to fill this cunt up while you scream for me."

My thighs tremble as he slams his hips against me, my body raging with desire more powerful even than the storm outside. He spits on my left nipple, and the tingle of electricity from his venom makes my back arch. His fingers work my nipple between them, and my stomach tenses as I begin to contract on his cock.

At that moment, he pulls out of my pussy and pushes his soaked cock into my ass. I squeal through my scream, my body crying out at the intrusion. I'm still coming, my body shuddering as he lifts me further, thrusting into me as I claw at his chest.

"Silas, fuck." The last word is drawn out on a long moan, because even though there's pain, it's edged with pleasure so intense I can't think, I can barely breathe. He pushes two fingers into my pussy, fucking me with his hand and his cock at the same time, his other hand tangling in the hair at the base of my neck to draw me to him. With a groan, he sinks his fangs into my throat, and my whole body explodes. I scream and thrash, the pain making my orgasm sing through my entire body, my face flushed with heat, sweat dripping down my spine.

Silas releases deep inside me, and I'm nothing but a spent rag doll in his arms.

"Do you have any idea how perfect you are?" He withdraws his cock, and I'm shivering like I have a fever. "Do you know how good it feels to fill you up with my cum? Knowing that you're mine."

I lick my lips, nodding. "Yours. I'm yours."

"Yes you are."

I'm aware of being carried upstairs and being deposited on a bed. Somehow, Silas heats enough water to wash us both, and there are cold tiles against my feet as he cleans me down. Candlelight flickers as lightning flashes through the windows, and then I'm in a soft bed, Silas's naked body warming mine as deep sleep claims me.

As I drift off, I can't be sure if I dream the words, but I hear Silas's voice, warm and comforting against my ear.

"I love you, angel."