Free THIEF: Part 5 by Kimberly Malone Page A

porch.“Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you for a single second since I left.Because…because I feel like complete shit for hurting you the way I did.”His voice hitches, and he stops, his back to me.“Because I love you.And the thought of never seeing you again…”His words trail to silence, caught in the wind and soft hush of snow.
                  “I love you too,” I whisper.He turns around, hopeful, and I’m quick to add, “But I’m with Alex now.”
                  “Yeah,” he says, taking a breath, “and you love him.”
                  “Yes.”
                  He steps closer, barely a foot between us.“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Erin.I know that.I mean…I don’t even deserve to be here, in front of you, without you killing me.”His laugh is nervous, as though I might just do it.“But if you let me explain, you know, just tell you why I did what I did…I think it might help.”
                  “Help you, or help me?”
                  Silas hesitates.“Both, maybe.Or neither.”He lowers his head, looking up at me through his hair—or he would be, if it weren’t shaved so close now.“We won’t know till we try.”
                  I study his eyes a moment.He seems genuine, and while my anger boils in my stomach, and my logic screams inside my head that everything about this is a bad idea…the piece of me that still loves Silas takes his hand.
                  The foyer’s empty.“Up here,” I tell him, pulling him to the staircase.I let go of his hand on the landing when he squeezes my fingers slightly.
                  There’s only one place I know where we can be alone to talk, without the risk of someone walking in.I nod towards the linen room, remind Silas to keep his voice down, and open the door.
                  “Put this under the door,” I tell him, tossing him a long, cylindrical pillow.When he’s covered the gap, I turn on the lights.
                  “Erin…oh, my God.”He covers his mouth with his hand, his eyes sweeping up and down my emaciated body.Even with Fiona’s makeup tricks, the dark circles under my eyes and the hollows of my cheeks must still be visible.“What happened?”
                  My face burns with embarrassment, and even more anger.“I’ve...been sick.”
                  Silas steps forward, his hand slowly reaching for my shoulder.I shut my eyes as his thumb touches my collarbone.“Not eating?” he asks.“Like…because of me?”
                  I slap his hand away.“Don’t flatter yourself.”
                  “I’m sorry,” he stammers, “but it’s just—”
                  “I know, I look like shit, okay?”
                  “No, no.I didn’t mean it like that.”He takes a breath, rubbing his face again.In the light, I study him more closely too.The soft, charcoal-colored bangs falling across his eyes are gone.His hair’s shorn, as though hacked at with a straight razor, and bleached to a brassy white-blonde.The scruff around his jaw is thicker now, more of a beard.He smells like a bar: heavy smoke and sweet, oaky liquor.
                  “You’re still so…so beautiful.”He whispers this.I shut my eyes as his hand brushes a loose piece of hair from my face.
                  “Kidney failure.”I pull my head back.“I’ve been in and out of the hospital for weeks.”
                  “God, Erin…I—I’m sorry.”Silas cracks his knuckles, his eyes watering as he scans me again.“Are you….”
                  “Dying?” I snap.
                  He bites his lip, waiting.
                  I wish I were calloused enough to let him believe the worst, but as bitter and bitchy as I can be, I don’t have the heart.“I’m