“Relax,” he laughs boisterously. “Ya don’t need to fear me. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”
I force a laugh, but I slide my knee out from beneath his hand anyway.
I may be trying to play nice, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him touch me. Sylvester is the type to push his luck. He’ll keep touching me until I tell him not to, and even then, he’ll push a little harder.
Enzo’s told him to get his hands off me before, yet, he still persists.
“Why you got a tattoo like that?” he asks, pointing out the two words Simon poked into my skin.Fuck You.
I look down, and unwittingly, a smile forms on my face as I brush my fingers across the black ink. I miss him. Probably more than I’ve ever missed anyone.
I’ve only met him twice, but he was my first real friend. Myonlyfriend.
My smile turns upside down. He probably thinks I disappeared on him willingly. And I’m sure he’d understand, but what if I never see him again? What if by the time I make it back, he’s disappeared himself?
Simon has said so once; he’s a wandering soul. Doesn’t stay in one place for long—like me. The thought of never seeing him again is enough to make the backs of my eyes burn.
“My friend did it for me,” I answer simply.
He harrumphs, sounding unimpressed. “Well, I’d like to ask you a question,” Sylvester starts, shifting uncomfortably. My heart drops, already knowing where this is going.
I clear my throat, my hands fidgeting with shit I didn't give them permission to. They move from my hair to my shirt, then back to my hair again, and somehow land on my bottom lip.
“Sup?” I squeak. I’m so bad at handling awkward situations.
“I wanted to formally invite you to stay here.” After a weird pause, he tacks on, “With me.”
I think I clear my throat again, but I’m not sure over the sound of my heart beating. I'm not even sure why I'm so damn nervous. All I have to say isno thanks. Easy.
“Wow,” I breathe. “That's so generous of you.”
He nods, like he already knows that.
“The thing is, I think it'd be best if I go back home and, uh, sort my shit out.” I end that with a strained chuckle.
He frowns and strokes his bushy beard.
“I don't think that's too smart. Sounds like you got yerself in a bad situation. Best ya stay here.” He pats my thigh like the decision has been settled on, then goes to get up.
“Uh, well, thanks for the input, but I’m leaving,” I cut in. He pauses, then settles back down. Great. I would've preferred he just accept it and keep it moving.
He sighs, assumingly preparing to share his wisdom that will forever change the trajectory of my life.
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to live freely. You won’t even have a need for money no more.”
My discomfort grows. Honestly, I have no idea why I thought staying here would be a good idea. The thought of it now makes me feel entirely nauseous.
“Yeah, I appreciate that. Totally. But I think I’ll be okay.” I try to soften the blow with a smile, but there's a darkness emanating from him.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and an ominous feeling invades whatever fragile peace Sylvester and I had. Adrenaline slowly releases into my veins, kicking up my heart rate as Sylvester stares at me.
“I’ll tell them who you are if you go,” he threatens, his tone deeper and severe.
I feel the crease between my brows deepening as I stare at him with bewilderment. My mouth opens, then closes, at a loss of what the hell to say.
“I imagine if the people after you are as powerful as you claim, they'll be very interested to hear about your whereabouts. I suspect you’re runnin’ from the law and ain’t nothin’ stopping them from extraditing your arrest.”
My vision tunnels until it's reduced to the eye of a needle, a heavy dose of panic mixing with astonishment.