Chapter 38: The USB’s Truth (Silas POV)

The motel door slams open, wood cracking loud, and I’m on my feet, fast, pulling Nico behind me as shadows rush in, two guys, big, dark coats, faces hard. My heart’s pounding, panic sharp, and I grab the lamp off the table, quick, swinging it hard at the first one. It smashes across his head, glass shattering, and he stumbles, cursing loud. Nico’s beside me, fast, kicking a chair at the other, tripping him up, and we bolt, straight through the side window, glass cutting my arm as we land rough in the alley.

We run, hard, feet slamming pavement, breath ragged, not stopping until the motel’s far behind, just a blur in the dark. My chest burns, legs shaking, and I pull Nico into a doorway, deep in shadows, listening hard, nothing, no steps, no shouts. “Gone,” I say, low, panting heavy, and he nods, quick, leaning on the wall beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. My hand’s still tight on his arm, keeping him close, and I feel it, us, alive, barely, but here.

We find a spot, slow, an old storage shed, unlocked, tucked behind some shops. It’s cramped, dusty, full of boxes, but safe, quiet. I lock the door, weak bolt but better than nothing, and drop onto the floor, back against a crate, head spinning from the chase. Nico sits beside me, close, his knee pressing mine, and I dig in my pocket, slow, pulling out the USB Jace gave me, the one I’ve been avoiding since he shoved it in my hand. “Now,” I say, quiet, voice rough, holding it up. “We’ve got to know.”

He nods, slow, pulling his phone out, plugging the USB in with a shaky hand. My gut twists, tight, as it loads, Cole’s voice, crackling soft through the speaker, and I freeze, cold hitting me hard. “Jace,” he says, low, fast, like he’s scared. “It’s not safe. They’re after me, Mercer’s guys, some deal I saw. If I don’t make it, tell Silas it wasn’t his fault.” My breath stops, chest caving, and I hear it, tires screeching, his voice cutting off sharp, crash loud in the background.

I stare at the phone, blank now, and it hits, Cole’s death, no accident, set up, Mercer’s hands all over it. My hands shake, bad, and I drop the USB, fast, like it’s burning me. “Not an accident,” I say, quiet, voice breaking, and my eyes sting, hot, blurring fast. Nico’s watching, still, and I lose it, head in my hands, shoulders shaking, sobs ripping out, raw and loud. “I killed him,” I say, muffled, guilt crashing hard, all those nights blaming myself now real, confirmed.

Nico moves, quick, sliding closer, and his arms wrap around me, tight, pulling me in. I feel his warmth, solid, his chest against mine, and he just holds me, no words, just there. My face presses into his shoulder, wet, shaking bad, and he doesn’t let go, hands steady on my back, keeping me together when I’m falling apart. I grip his shirt, hard, fingers digging in, and he’s warm, alive, his breath soft on my neck, anchoring me in the dark.

I can’t stop, tears, gasps, all the pain I’ve carried since that crash spilling out, and Nico’s there, quiet, his hold firm, like he’s catching every piece. My head’s spinning, Cole, begging, knowing he was done, and me, driving, missing it all. “He told me,” I say, low, choking on it, “to trust him, and I didn’t.” Nico’s hand slides up, slow, resting on my neck, warm, and he pulls me closer, tighter, his silence louder than anything he could say.

Time blurs, slow, my sobs easing, chest still tight but calmer, and I stay there, wrapped in him, his heartbeat steady under my cheek. He doesn’t push, doesn’t talk, just holds me, presence heavy, real, and I feel it, him, my lifeline, like I’m his too. I pull back, slow, wiping my face rough with my sleeve, and he’s looking at me, soft, eyes dark and sure, no judgment, just us.

I grab the phone again, shaky, rewinding slow, needing to hear it clear. Cole’s voice cuts again, “Mercer’s guys,” proof, hard, tying him to this, and I nod, fast, anger mixing with the grief. “He’s in it,” I say, loud, looking at Nico, my voice steadier now. “Mercer killed him.” Nico’s hand rests on mine, light, and he nods, slow, his jaw tight. “We’ve got him,” he says, quiet, fierce, and I feel it, us, locked in, ready to fight back.

The USB’s still playing, soft, and I hear it, Cole, fading, then a name, clear, sharp, “Tell them, Vance runs it, top guy.” My heart stops, cold, and I stare at Nico, wide-eyed, the screen glowing bright with that, Vance, high-ranking, the conspirator pulling strings. “Vance,” I say, low, voice hard, and Nico freezes, grabbing the phone fast, seeing it too.