“I’m not lying,” Dad says slowly. “I can give you all the evidence I have. But you have to calm down and before we can talk.” Sylas starts breathing heavily, gasping.

“I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe,” he says, his hand on his chest. He’s having another panic attack.

“Sit down,” I say, pushing on his shoulders so he’s back on the bed. “Dad, leave.” I don’t look to see if he obeys me, but I hear the door close.

Getting down on my knees, I put my hand under his chin and force him to look at me.

“We’re going to breathe together, okay? In, one, two, three, four, five, and out, one, two, three, four, five,” I say. He’s still gasping, but after a few more tries, he starts slowing his breathing and I can feel him coming out of it. He blinks and then I know he’s back. It feels like déjà vu. The last time he got a lot of information dropped on him, he reacted the same way. It’s like his brain and body just overload and he can’t deal with it.

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” I say, stroking his face. Even with everything that’s been going on in the past two days, I can’t deny that I love him. That I love him so much it feels like it’s eating me alive.

“I don’t even know what’s happening to me. What’s happening to me?” he says, and he sounds scared. Like a scared little boy.

“You’re going through a lot right now, Sylas.” I doubt he’s ever talked to a therapist, but that might be a good idea. Maybe after we get through this crisis. If we get through it.

“I don’t believe it,” he says.

“I know, I know. But let’s calm down a little more and then we can go downstairs and you can decide for yourself.” I keep my voice even and calm.

“Why are you doing this for me?” he asks, reaching out and rubbing his thumb across my lower lip. I really want to kiss him, but it’s probably not the best idea right now.

“Because I love you.”

“You shouldn’t. I don’t deserve it,” he says.

“And that’s why I do. Because you don’t think that you do.” He licks his lips and I think about kissing him again. He seems stable now, so I get to my feet and hold my hand out.

“Come on.” He follows me out of the room and down the stairs.

Fourteen

Dad has papers scattered all over his desk when we walk in, including all the surveillance photos.

Sylas clears his throat and Dad looks up from the papers.

“I’m very sorry for attacking you. I lost it and I lashed out.” Dad nods.

“Apology accepted. I know how it feels to get to that place.” He looks at me and I know he’s talking about when he had his breakdown in here. Dad coughs again and then points down at his desk.

“This is it. Everything. You can look at it all you want, and verify it with Cash, but it’s all there.” Cash?

Sylas’ head snaps up at the mention of Cash.

“Cash knows about this?” Oh, shit. Here we go again.

“He’s the one who found the surveillance photos and told me.”

I hold my breath and wait for Sylas to fall apart again, but he just stares straight ahead for a moment and then back down at the papers. I guess he can only freak out so much today and he’s reached his quota. But I have the feeling a scene like the one upstairs is going to happen again soon, but with Cash on the other end. The only difference is that Cash is physically stronger than Sylas and has more training to fight off an attack.

I hold back as Sylas looks through everything, picking up the pictures and examining them, holding them close to his face. Trying to see if they’ve been faked. After he looks at them, he stacks them together and puts them on one side of the desk before going through the rest of the evidence.

I end up sitting on the chair and letting him have his space. I’m sure I’ll get my chance to look at all of it, but it’s Sylas’ right to see this first. Dad leans against one of the bookshelves, watching Sylas.

He’s completely focused, looking at each page, reading it and then adding it to the pile he’s already gone through. He finally finishes the last one and then straightens the pile and hands it back to Dad.

“I won’t believe it until I see him myself,” he says and I don’t blame him. If I thought someone was dead, and was told they weren’t, I’d want to make absolutely sure they were alive.

“I understand,” Dad says and I think he’s going to reiterate that he’s going to kill Andrew, but he doesn’t. Maybe seeing Sylas’ reaction has changed his mind. I mean, if anyone has the right to kill him, it should be Sylas. If that’s where they take this. There’s no doubt this is a man who deserves to die, but are they willing to cross that line?

“I know you loved my mother and you want to avenge her, but he’s mine to take care of. He’s my father. I watched him destroy my mother. I watched as he broke her spirit every day. No matter how much you love her, you can never have more of a right than I do,” Sylas says, his voice even and serious. I’m shocked at how calm he is now, given how he was freaking out less than an hour ago.

Dad opens his mouth to argue, but Sylas puts his hand up.

“You’re not going to change my mind. No matter what you say. I’m glad that you found him, but this is my job. My mess to take care of.” It’s not his mess. All of this was caused by one man. One stupid, horrible man.

I don’t know if killing his father is going to make Sylas feel better or worse. I don’t know if it will give him the peace he needs. But he needs the chance to find out. It’s not my choice to make, but his.

Dad and Sylas share a moment and I feel like an intruder. They stare at one another and something unsaid passes between them. Dad nods, picks up the stack of papers and hands them to Sylas.

“Thank you,” Sylas says, closing his eyes and exhaling. “Thank you.”

Sylas leaves the office, but I stay with Dad. I know Sylas is going to wait for me up in my room.

“Are you okay?” I ask him. I’ve been saying this a lot as well.

“No, I’m not. I just gave up on the woman I love.” He’s staring out the window again. I walk toward him and rest my head against his shoulder.

“You’re honoring her memory.” If killing the man who killed her can be called “honor.” I’m still not sure how I feel about it.

“Seeing his face brought everything back. How she slowly lost her beautiful light. He crushed it from her. Stomped her under his foot. He deserves so much more than death. So much more.” His voice shakes.

I brush my hand up and down his back.

“I know, but you can’t let this eat at you for the rest of your life. She’s not alive anymore, but you are. I’m here and I love you and then there’s Lizzy. Don’t forget about her. You’re going to love her and I’m sure she’s going to love you.” I need to make him focus on what he has, not what he’s lost.

He exhales through his nose.

“You’re right. You’re right.” He looks down at me. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted lately. So distant.”

“It’s okay,” I say, giving him another hug. “I love you, okay?” He puts his arms around me.

“I know. I love you, too.” He plants a kiss on the top of my head and then I tell him I’m going to go with Sylas. I have no idea what our next move is, but I have the feeling it’s going to involve a trip to Texas.

“I’ll let you know what’s going on,” I say, just before I close the door. He goes back to gazing at the garden.

Sylas is exactly where I thought he would be. In my room, on my bed. He’s going through the papers again. He doesn’t look up when I walk in and quietly close the door.

“What are you going to do now?” I ask. I'm not sure if he’s going to include me in his plans. I hope he does, so I don’t have to do it behind his back.