I braced myself for him to shrug me off. I expected him to tell me it wasn’t his problem, or to just tell me to call the police and leave him out of it. People don’t want to get involved these days.
Silas didn’t say a single word.
He just looked at Kinsley reaching her front door, then locked his eyes on the idling sedan. He dropped the heavy trash can he was holding. He didn’t run, but his strides were long, heavy, and deliberate.
He walked straight onto Kinsley’s front lawn and planted himself right at the edge of her driveway, placing his massive frame between the street and the front porch.
He crossed his thick, grease-stained arms over his neon high-vis vest and simply stared at the black car. He looked like an absolute stone wall standing guard.
Inside the house, I saw the front door shut, and the deadbolt click into place.
Down the street, the black sedan slowly rolled forward. As it approached Kinsley’s house, the passenger window rolled down just a crack.
Silas didn’t flinch. He didn’t move an inch. He just leveled a cold, hard, terrifying glare straight into the dark window of that car. It was the look of a man who had seen worse things and wasn’t afraid of whatever was sitting in the driver’s seat.
The sedan stopped for a split second. Then, the tires squealed harshly against the pavement, and the car sped off out of the neighborhood, disappearing around the corner.
Silas stood there for another full five minutes. He watched the street, checking every angle, just to be absolutely sure.
