Page 8 of Collateral Damage
His gaze returns to mine, steady and intent. “You just narrowed him down.”
When he backs up and opens the door joining our two rooms, he taps the handle lightly—once, deliberate—as if placing the choice back in my hands. “Lock this behind me. I’m right next door if you need me.”
He gives me one last look, then disappears into the adjoining room.
Silas
I keep my back to the wall while I scan—window lock, bathroom door, closet. I check under the bed even though I already know what I’ll find: dust, a missing sock, maybe a lost keycard. It’s not paranoia. It’s repetition. Repetition keeps people alive.
The motel room smells like industrial detergent and stale heat. Beige walls. Cheap art. Ava deserves better, but it’s the safest option I can offer her right now.
None of this sits right. Ava is on the other side of the wall, trying to pretend she’s okay when she’s anything but. She stopped being okay the second a man decided he had the right to invade her personal life.
My phone vibrates at my hip, so I slide my hand in and pull it out, already knowing who it’ll be.
She might be over the worst of it, and she might be heeding medical advice, but that doesn’t mean that Delilah isn’t ignoring my instructions.
“You should be in bed,” I mock growl down the line.
Delilah snorts. “Are you kidding me? Caleb told me while I was finishing a log audit that you’re checking on Dr. Barbie?”
“Caleb should know better.”
“Ha! I knew it! You’re keeping something from me.”
A groan slips out before I can holster it. “Delilah. Don’t make this something.”
“How can I? I don’t know what it is?”
I temper my voice and keep it even. Delilah doesn’t need any encouragement with this.
“Go to sleep.”
“In a minute… how was the funeral?”
I blink, and I’m back in Seattle. A flag-draped coffin, a seven-year-old kid, and a room full of people with nothing solid to say about where his father had gone and no real comfort to offer.
“He didn’t know Christ.”
There’s a pause on the line. I don’t fill it. I’m thinking of the words Jesus spoke plainly—that not everyone who hears will listen, that the gate is narrow, and the truth isn’t received by all who encounter it.
“I’m sorry. And now I’m hassling you about Dr. Barbie.”
I glance at the door separating us. “You’ve got to stop calling her that.”
Delilah sighs. “Probably. Maybe I’ll quit if you tell me why you’re there?”
I squeeze my finger and thumb at the bridge of my nose. “My flight was diverted. Dr. Morrison called and asked for advice. That’s all you need to know right now.”
“But—”
“Go to bed, Delilah. And if Zack’s around, tell him to lock everything up tight.”
“You sound weird. Why do you sound weird? I’m worried. What’s going on?”
I clench a fist at my side. She’s like a dog with a bone. Better to give her a new one to gnaw on.
“Do me a favor and locate that list my father sent through a few months back.”
