Mine to Hold

Home > Romance > Mine to Hold > Page 23
Mine to Hold Page 23

by Cynthia Eden


  “I want to take you out today,” he told her as he kept her close. “On the boat.”

  Claire searched his eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s time to put the past to rest. For both of us.” And he wanted to show Claire that he’d share all of his life with her. The good and the bad.

  They walked toward the boat. It gleamed, already set in the water. The day was clear and bright. The waves were easy. It was the perfect weather for a trip out.

  “We don’t have to do this,” Claire said, stopping him on the dock. “You don’t have to—”

  “You’ll be the first woman I’ve taken out with me, and you’ll be the woman who stands by my side for the rest of my life.” This mattered to him. She mattered.

  Claire smiled again. Damn but he loved her smile.

  They climbed on board. Noah untied the vessel. He started the engine. The boat roared to life, and soon, they were pulling away from the dock and heading out toward that rising sun.

  Claire slipped below the deck. Noah’s hands tightened on the wheel as the salty scent of the water filled his nose. He’d expected to feel the pain from his past as soon as he got on the water. He usually did. But he didn’t feel those old ghosts this time. Because she was with him? “Claire?” Noah called.

  She didn’t answer.

  The boat was forty feet long, so Claire could still be exploring below deck. He waited a few more moments.

  But Claire didn’t come back up.

  A tendril of unease snaked through Noah. He killed the engine. Left the boat drifting a bit. “Claire, is everything okay?”

  Then he saw the top of her blonde head as she climbed back up. Her face became visible, and his heart stopped when he saw the fear heavy in her expression.

  Not just fear—terror.

  Then Noah saw the gun barrel pressed under Claire’s chin. She kept rising, climbing up from below deck, and soon the man who held her was visible, too.

  Blond hair. Green eyes. A smile that was smug and evil.

  “I told you she was my one and only,” Ethan Harrison said. “You should’ve believed me.”

  Every muscle in Noah’s body locked down. “I thought you were still in the city.”

  “Wh-what?” Claire gasped. The gun barrel shoved harder against her skin.

  Noah glanced at her face. The desperation in her eyes undid him. “You said that you saw him,” Noah said simply. “I believed you.”

  “Th-that’s why you wanted me out of New York so badly?”

  Noah nodded. Yes. It hadn’t been about the reporters. The escape to the Hamptons had been about protecting Claire. Trace and his men were tearing apart the city. Noah had thought Claire would be safe at his beach house.

  He’d been wrong. Noah focused on Ethan once more. The man’s gaze was wild, too bright with intensity, and his fingers trembled around the weapon. “You need to move that gun. I know you don’t want to hurt Claire.”

  “No.” Ethan lifted the weapon, just an inch. “I love Claire, and she loves me.” He kept a tight grip on her. “But Claire has to be punished. She let you touch her. I saw…”

  Claire shook her head. “Ethan, no.”

  “I’m going to kill him,” Ethan told her. He pressed a kiss to Claire’s temple. “Then we’ll be together. We’ll sail away, and no one will ever bother us again.”

  That wouldn’t happen. Noah would not let that bastard take Claire. “Sloan Hall. You found out about this place through him, didn’t you, Harrison?”

  Ethan smiled. “You know my brother killed him? Right before I could.” He laughed. “And Austin always pretended to be so perfect!”

  “How’d you get away?” Claire whispered. She pressed back against Ethan, and the man’s gaze jumped to her.

  “I had to get away. I had to come for you.” The gun pushed back against her skin once more. “York visited me in that damn prison. Talked as if you were his. I knew I had to find a way to you then…”

  Fuck. He’d caused Ethan to escape?

  “You faked that car bomb.” Claire’s voice was so calm it surprised Noah. Her eyes were lit with terror, but her voice was flat.

  “I didn’t fake it. It was a very, very real bomb. Just ask those dumb cops who were there…oh, wait, nothing’s left of them now.” He laughed again.

  The boat kept drifting in the water.

  “I called in my favors,” Ethan said, his lips curving. “Warden Quill still owed my family, so he set things up for me.”

  The warden?

  “Quill made sure the back doors of that patrol car were…a little broken. I could get out, easy. And I did. Right before the dumb prick turned the key in the ignition, I jumped out and slipped into the woods.”

  Noah realized that Ethan was damn proud of himself. The guy was talking and talking…and not even realizing that Noah was reaching for the knife he kept stashed near the wheel. The knife had been used the few times he’d fished, and he always kept it close at hand when he was on deck.

  It was the only weapon he had available, but Noah was good with a knife. Very, very good.

  “I slipped through the woods.” Ethan just sounded boastful now. “You remember those woods, don’t you, Claire? They led to the little bayou. We made love there. Our first time.” He inhaled deeply, as if drinking in her scent. “I missed you so much.” He pulled her even closer, but kept the gun against her. “Did you miss me?”

  Claire was staring right at Noah as she said, “Yes.”

  Noah tensed.

  “I missed you so much,” Claire repeated to Ethan, her voice wooden. Then she lowered her lashes. Cleared her throat, and said again, “I missed you.” But emotion was in those words, shaking them.

  Satisfaction flashed across Ethan’s face. “I told you. Claire’s mine. She’ll always be mine.” Then he lifted the gun and pointed it at Noah. “And you’re dead—”

  “No!” Ethan’s grip on her had loosened and Claire whirled in his arms. She put her hands on Ethan’s chest. “He doesn’t matter. You and I…we matter.”

  Noah took a slow, gliding step forward.

  Ethan had lowered the gun to Claire’s side.

  “Let’s just leave him,” Claire said, her words flying out quickly. “Make him jump off the boat. You and I—we can keep going on this ride, and no one will stop us. No one will ever find us.”

  Ethan’s blond eyebrows lowered. “But I want to kill him. He touched you. He thought he’d take you from me.”

  Noah took another step forward. Claire stood between him and his target.

  “No one will do that,” Claire said. Her hands were curving around Ethan’s shoulders. “You’re my-my one and only. We’ll be together always.” She glanced back over her shoulder. Her gaze held Noah’s for just a moment. “He doesn’t matter.” Then she looked back at Ethan. “Please, just let him go.”

  Ethan smiled at her. Noah caught the flash of his grin. “I love it when you beg me.” Then he kissed her.

  Noah leapt forward.

  A gunshot blasted.

  Noah’s entire world stopped then.

  Claire staggered back from Ethan.

  “But you’re begging for him,” Ethan shouted at her. “For his life, and you know what that tells me?” He lifted his gun, preparing to shoot it again. Preparing to shoot Claire again.

  Claire’s blood was dripping onto the boat.

  A roaring filled Noah’s ears. He didn’t even realize that he was the one making that sound.

  “It tells me that you love him!” Ethan fired again.

  Noah shoved Claire to the side. The bullet drove into Noah’s shoulder, but he didn’t even feel the impact. He was too busy holding Claire.

  There was blood on her shirt. The bastard had shot her, at point blank range. The bullet had sank into Claire’s stomach, and she stared up at Noah as tears poured down her face. “L-love…s-sorry…”

  “No, Claire, you’re okay,” he told her, frantic. “You’re okay!”

  “No,
she’s not,” Ethan snapped. “You’re both dead. And you’re in just the position I like. On your knees.” His laughter grated in Noah’s ears. “Look up at me, asshole. The last thing I want Claire to see is you dying.”

  Carefully, oh, so carefully, Noah eased Claire down on the deck. “I love you,” he whispered. Did she realize just how much? That she was his whole world?

  That world was bleeding out in front of him.

  He looked up. “I told you what would happen if you ever came near Claire again.”

  Ethan advanced on him. His fingers gripped the gun tightly. “I’m the one with the power here. Claire should’ve been true to me! You ruined everything! Now you are going to die!”

  Noah shook his head. “I told you to forget Claire. And I told you that if you didn’t…” Noah lunged up. With his left hand, he grabbed Ethan’s hand-the hand that held gun—and he broke the man’s wrist. “I said you’d be a dead man.” Noah’s right hand drove his knife into Ethan’s chest. Right into the bastard’s heart.

  Ethan’s breath choked out. He stared at Noah with wide, stunned eyes. “Pl-please…”

  Noah twisted that knife. “You’ll never hurt her again.” He yanked the knife back.

  Blood poured from Ethan’s wound. The man fell back. And, furious, snarling, Noah, plunged the knife into Ethan’s throat.

  Go join your bastard father and brother in hell.

  Then Noah spun around. He fell to his knees beside Claire. “Baby, baby, look at me.”

  Her eyes had closed. When he touched her, Claire’s skin was so cold.

  “Don’t do this, Claire. Please, please don’t leave me.” He was begging her, and he didn’t care. Noah would have done anything for Claire right then.

  Her lashes lifted. Her eyes—the blue seemed so dim—met his. “Love…y-you…”

  He pushed down on her stomach, trying to apply pressure to her wound. “Fight for me. You love me, so that means you have to fight.” He kissed her, desperate, breaking. “Fight to stay with me. Because I don’t want to be without you, Claire. I don’t think I can be. Please, baby, hold on.”

  He lifted his head. Her lips started to curl. The smile that began with her bottom lip.

  “Changed…me…” she whispered.

  The smile wasn’t flashing her dimples. It wasn’t reaching her eyes. It had to reach her eyes.

  “I was…yours…”

  “You still are.” He grabbed for the boat’s radio. Called for help even as he kept applying pressure to her wound. “And I’m yours. Yours—always. Do you hear me, Claire? Always. This isn’t the end for us. We’ve just started. We’re getting married. I’m going to buy you so many blue diamonds that you get sick of them, and I’m going to make you scream over and over again when you and I are in bed and I make—”

  Her eyes had closed once more.

  “Claire?” No, no. “Get me help!” he yelled into the radio. “She needs a helicopter! I need a life flight for her. Dammit, I’m out on the water and I need—”

  Claire.

  His hand was on her wound. She was terrifyingly still on that deck. The water was all around him, blue for miles. No help in sight.

  If they stayed there and waited for help to come, Claire would be dead.

  “Live for me,” he begged her. “Please, God, Claire, live for me.”

  He lifted her up, holding her as best he could even while he kept trying to put pressure on that wound. His left arm wrapped around her, and she hung limply against him.

  His mother had been limp like that. So long ago. He’d thought that she’d just passed out. But…

  Still holding her, Noah sent the boat racing forward. It bounced against the waves at first, then cut through the water.

  He kept holding Claire.

  He’d always hold her.

  Because she was the only thing that mattered to him.

  “Please hold on, Claire,” he said, and he knew he was begging her. “Just…hold on. Don’t leave me.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  When the helicopter landed at the hospital, Drake tensed. He was inside the hospital, watching from his position in the waiting area. He saw the figures jump from the chopper, and, a few moments later, the medical attendants ran forward, pushing the small figure on the gurney toward the hospital’s emergency room entrance.

  Noah was right beside that gurney.

  The emergency room doors flew open. Drake had only a flash of Claire. The doctors were working on her. Yelling. Saying that she’d lost too much blood.

  Fuck, not her.

  Claire vanished as the operating room doors swung closed. Drake glanced over his shoulder. Now Noah stood just inside the emergency room waiting area. His shirt was covered with blood. So were his hands.

  Cautiously, Drake approached his friend. He could see that Noah was on the edge. The very dangerous edge that he’d always sensed with Noah.

  “He was on the boat,” Noah said, and his voice stopped Drake. That low, deadly whisper—Noah normally only used it in battle. “I wanted to take Claire out and show her that she could know all of me…but he was on my boat. Ethan Harrison was on my fucking boat.”

  Trace had called Drake to let him know about the deadly situation. Trace had told him to haul ass to the hospital, and Drake knew that Trace would be arriving there any minute, too.

  “She was trying to protect me.” Noah’s eyes were haunted. “She told him to let me go. That she’d stay with him.” His hands had fisted. “She would’ve done it, too. I saw it in her eyes. If he’d let me go, she would have gone away with that bastard and let him hurt her. Let him kill her. For me.”

  “Noah…” He put his hand on Noah’s shoulder.

  Noah shoved him back. “I didn’t move fast enough.”

  Drake swallowed. “I don’t…I don’t know what you mean.”

  “He knew she loved me. Ethan knew. I was going to attack him, but I didn’t move fast enough.” Grief ravaged his face. “He shot her in front of me. We were out on that water, and I couldn’t help her. There was too much blood. I kept telling her to hold on. To hold on…”

  The ER doors burst open again. Trace stood there, breath heaving, as his gaze flew around the waiting area. He saw Noah and Drake, and he rushed toward them.

  “But she didn’t open her eyes again,” Noah whispered. His head sagged forward. “I need her to open her eyes. I. Need. Her.”

  Drake couldn’t even lie to his friend and tell him that Claire would be all right. She’d been so pale—ghost white—on that gurney. And he hadn’t even been able to see her breathing. Drake cleared his throat. “She’s a fighter.”

  “I told her to fight for me. I begged her.” Noah swiped a hand over his cheek. When his hand fell again, Drake saw a line of blood on his face. Claire’s blood. “But I don’t even know if she could hear me.”

  When Trace came up to the men, his gaze went straight to Noah. “Tell me what I can do.”

  Noah’s attention was on the shut operating room doors. “I used to envy you, Trace. You always loved Skye. She loved you. You seemed to have it all.”

  Trace’s face reflected his worry.

  “I didn’t know it would…hurt so much.” Noah rubbed his chest. “It feels like someone is clawing my heart out right now.”

  “Because you love her,” Trace said.

  Noah’s head sagged forward. “I’d kill for her. I’d die for her.” His shoulders rolled back and his face slowly lifted. “But how can I live without her?”

  “You won’t have to,” Trace told him, voice fierce. “You got her to the hospital. This isn’t like the time with your parents. The doctors are in there, and they’ll get her sewn up. She’s going to make it.” Maybe Trace’s words were a lie, but Drake was glad Trace had said them. Drake didn’t like the haunted, desperate look in Noah’s eyes.

  Noah’s gaze flickered to Drake. “She loves me.”

  “Yes, I figured that one out pretty fast.”

  “I love her.”
r />   “That one was obvious, too,” Drake muttered. “When you stopped the revolving bedroom door routine you enjoyed so much.”

  Trace exhaled on a long, rough sigh. “I don’t know how Ethan Harrison managed to get all the way up to New York. He must’ve had help and-”

  “The warden helped him.” Noah’s voice was flat. “So we need to destroy him.”

  Trace nodded. “Consider it done.” He backed away.

  Drake knew Trace had found his way to “help” Noah. Within the hour, Drake figured that the warden would be in either police custody or in the custody of Trace’s agents. The man wouldn’t get away.

  Noah started to pace then, walking back and forth on the tiled floor of the waiting room. His gaze darted back to the operating room doors every few moments.

  There was so much blood on the guy. Drake had to ask, “Noah, are you all right? Do I need to get a doctor for you?” The last thing he wanted was for Noah to keel over. The guy could be so focused on Claire that he was ignoring his own injuries.

  Noah stopped pacing. “I think I got shot. Maybe my shoulder? It doesn’t matter.”

  Uh, yes, it did. Drake motioned to a nurse.

  Noah looked down at his clothes. “Most of the blood is Claire’s…and Ethan Harrison’s.”

  “He’s dead.” Drake had gotten that bit of information from Trace on his way over and—

  “I stabbed him in the heart and drove my knife into the bastard’s throat.” Noah started pacing once more. The nurse nervously hovered nearby. “He’ll never hurt Claire again.”

  Drake whistled soundlessly. No, Ethan would never hurt Claire again. And if Claire didn’t survive the surgery…he knew that Noah York would never be the same again, either.

  He’s lost control. He’s gone over the edge.

  Claire would be the only one who could bring him back.

  ***

  She looked so pale against the white covers.

  Noah pulled his chair closer to Claire’s bed. She was connected to about five different beeping machines, and an IV fed into her left arm.

  Her eyes were closed. Her wound stitched up.

  The anesthesia was still in her system, but the doctors had assured him that Claire would be waking up soon. The surgery had been a full success.

  She was going to make it.

  He could actually breathe again.

  Noah reached for Claire’s hand. His fingers threaded through hers. He just needed to hold her. To feel her, warm and alive, against him.

  “That was too close,” he rasped to her. “Please, baby, don’t ever do that to me again.” Because for a while there, his whole world had gone dark.

  He bowed his head, and he kept holding her.

  ***

  When Claire opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was…Noah. He was in the

‹ Prev