Dad lets me leave and I shut the door to his office behind me. I pick up the call before it flips over to voicemail.
“Hello?” I say.
“Hello, Saige Beaumont,” he says and his tone is the same. As if he’s laughing at a joke someone just told him.
“What can I do for you?” I ask as I walk up the stairs.
“Well, now, why would I need something? Maybe I’m just calling to chat,” he says and I roll my eyes as I walk into my bedroom and lock the door behind me.
“Yeah, okay,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Fine, fine. I was wondering if you had seen Sylas today.”
“Why?” I ask. That makes him laugh.
“I don’t have ulterior motives, I promise. I was just waiting to hear from him about something and I thought I would cover all my bases and go ahead and ask you.” I’m still suspicious. Something doesn’t feel right.
“What are you waiting to hear from him about?” I ask, sitting on the edge of my bed. I really hate this room. One of these days I’m going to pay a crew to redecorate it and give my mother a heart attack.
“Nice try.”
“It was worth a shot.” There’s a beat of silence and I wait for him to say goodbye and hang up. But he doesn’t.
“Anything else?” I ask.
“No, nothing, nothing.”
“Okayyyyy,” I say, but he still doesn’t hang up. “This is fun, but I have things to do so unless you have something else you want to talk to me about…”
“No, no. Just if you see him, tell him to call me.” Oh, there’s definitely more to it than that.
“I will,” I say.
“Goodbye, Saige Beaumont.”
“Bye, Cash,” I say, hanging up and wondering what the hell that was.
![Back To Back _1.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/274230/read/images/_1.jpg)
I go back downstairs and Dad isn’t in the office. I search around and see him in the garden. The French doors that lead outside from the kitchen are wide open, the muggy summer air seeping into the house and battling for dominance with the air conditioner.
He’s walking through the rows of rosebushes, his hands clasped behind his back.
“Hey,” I say, getting his attention. He turns and gives me a tight smile.
“Everything okay with Lo?” he asks.
“Yup,” I say, nodding. It would be way too complicated to explain the Cash situation to him right now. I’ve got another bomb to drop on him. I sit back down in the chair.
“I’m going to tell Sylas. He has a right to know,” I say and Dad’s fist clench. I take a breath. “You can’t stop me from telling him.”
“Saige.”
“No. I love you, Dad, but this isn’t right.” This is one thing that I couldn’t keep from Sylas, even if I wanted to. This is a lie that can’t be kept. “This man ruined his life and he needs to know. Put yourself in his place.” His mouth turns into a tight line and his jaw clenches so hard I wonder if he’s going to damage his teeth.
“I want to be the one to take his life. I was so disappointed when I heard that he was killed in prison. I had dreams about it. Still do sometimes.” That shocks me a little. I’ve never imagined my dad as a violent man. Or at least not like that.
“I think I should go,” I say. I want to get to Sylas. It’s going to be horrific to be the one to tell him, but I’m okay with that.
“Don’t hurt him, Saige. This news will only hurt him,” he says.
“That’s not for you to decide. I promised him total honesty and I’m not going to go back on that,” I say, getting up and heading toward the door. I expect him to try to stop me, but he doesn’t.
I’m shaking a bit as I get into my car.
I have to tell him.
![Back To Back _1.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/274230/read/images/_1.jpg)
The BMW isn’t anywhere near my apartment. I park my car and head upstairs. It’s dark and empty. No Sylas to greet me at the door. I pull out my phone and call him.
He doesn’t pick up. I leave a message.
“Sylas, please call me back when you get this. Or come to my apartment. I have to tell you something.” I end the message and start pacing. That only lasts a few minutes. I feed Leo, who is pissed at me for not playing with him, but then I’m out the door and driving to his place.
He’s not here. I break in just to make sure, but the place is Sylas free. I chew on my lip and walk around. It’s been a while since I’ve been here. I wonder why he uses this crappy apartment when he could have something so much better. Just another part of the mystery that is Sylas.
I wait for a while, but he doesn’t come back. Sighing, I go back to my car and drive back home.
![Back To Back _1.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/274230/read/images/_1.jpg)
It’s two in the morning when I finally go to bed. I’ve been up and waiting for Sylas for hours. I’ve called him dozens of times and heard nothing.
I’m definitely scared. I think about calling Cash, but something tells me I shouldn’t. Call it intuition. I sleep fitfully and wake up at eight. Sylas still isn’t back and I’m officially freaked out.
I call him one more time, but it goes straight to voicemail, which means his phone is off.
At a loss with what to do, I call Cash.
“Hello, Saige Beaumont, what can I do for you?” He’s making a joke of what I said last time, but I’m in no mood for it.
“Sylas is gone. He didn’t come back last night and he won’t answer any of my calls.” He’s silent for a second.
“Did you have a fight?” I want to scream at him. This isn’t some boyfriend/girlfriend drama. He has to take this seriously.
“No. We spent the day together and now he’s gone. I just want to know that he’s okay,” I say. I know he can track Sylas’ phone in seconds.
“Fine, fine,” he says. “Hold on, I’ll bring up the tracker in his phone.”
There’s some clicking and then silence.
“He’s at the other apartment. The one he brought you to.” Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?
“Thanks,” I say, hanging up before he says anything else. I’m down the stairs and heading for my car. I remember where the place is. I’m good at directions. Once I’ve been someplace, even if I didn’t drive, I can find it again.
I let out the biggest sigh of relief when I see the BMW. Thank God.
I rush into the building and up to his floor. I don’t even bother with the doorbell. I just bang on the door with my fist.
“Sylas? Sylas, open up!” I don’t give a shit if I’m disturbing his neighbors.
The door opens and there he is. I launch myself at him and he catches me.
“Where were you?” I ask as I squeeze the life out of him.
“I told you I had some things to do at home,” he says, patting my back as if I’m overreacting. A red flag immediately goes up.
“You weren’t at home. I went there and you weren’t there. Why didn’t you call me? I needed you to call me.” He lets me go and I land with a thump on my feet. I’ve always liked our height difference, but I’m not very fond of it right now. I simultaneously want to kiss and strangle him.
“Sorry, I just got busy.”
“That’s not a fucking answer, Sylas. What the hell is going on?” I look around him. It wouldn’t surprise me if someone else were here.
He’s closed off to me and it reminds me of when he was playing the part of Quinn. At least, at first. He was much more reserved than his real personality. I hold his face in both hands and force him to look at me.
“You had me scared, Sylas. I need an explanation.” I dig my fingers into his skin, hard enough to hurt, but I need him to know how frightened I was that something had happened to him.
“I’m sorry. I just… I had something to do.” No, this is not fucking happening. I remove my hands from his face, put them on his chest and shove him backwards until we’re in the apartment. I turn to slam the door and lock it.
“Explain. Now.”
He takes a deep breath and then steps away from me.
“I was working, okay? I was doing a job.” My heart drops.
“What kind of job?” He raises an eyebrow.