by L.H. Cosway
I inhaled sharply. “I didn’t plan to, but yes.”
Mirth danced in his eyes. “My, my, what would Jesus say about that?”
“Jesus never had to deal with immature, petty teenagers like Kean and Sally.” I shot back, getting a quiet chuckle out of him.
A silence fell, then Noah said, “Don’t worry about Kean and Sally. I have a funny feeling their sunny little existence is going to see a few thunderstorms very soon.”
I raised both my eyebrows at him. “Thunderstorms?”
“Maybe even a tsunami. And the damage done won’t be easily repaired.”
I sent him a questioning look, and he leaned back, his hands braced on the sand. “What I’m about to tell you can’t go any further than the two of us. I need your word on that,” he said, eyeing me.
I brought my hand to my chest, my voice sincere. “You have my word. I won’t tell a soul.”
Noah looked out at the waves, then said. “I’m sure you already suspected, but I haven’t been befriending my parents’ old pals for no reason.”
A dark look crossed his features, and something about it made me nervous. “Oh?”
“I started monitoring Hawkins a while back,” he said, and a memory surfaced of the papers I’d found in his room, the ones that contained a list of someone’s daily comings and goings. “I found evidence that he was stealing government money meant for the school to line his own pockets. Skimming off the top, as it were.”
My raised eyebrows practically disappeared into my hairline. I just couldn’t picture it. Hawkins seemed so strait-laced. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure. But it goes deeper. I found a connection with Mayor McBride, so I decided to worm my way into a job at her office. That access allowed me to sneak a look at her accounts. It turns out she’s been doing the same thing with town funding. I didn’t know how she and Hawkins were cleaning the money, and that’s where Enda Riordan and Matt O’Hare entered the frame. They launder the money through Matt’s pub and Enda’s factory.”
I sat back, reeling from what he just told me. “Aoife’s mam works in Matt’s pub.”
Noah cast me an apologetic look. “She may have to start concentrating on her catering business full-time.”
“You’re going to expose them?”
“Yes, when the time is right.”
I studied him now, my thoughts going a mile a minute. “Why are you doing all this? Why start looking into Hawkins in the first place?”
“I have my reasons.”
“And those are?”
“Personal. Look, I’m telling you this so you know Kean and Sally’s rosy lives will be taking a bad turn very soon. The little shits deserve worse for what they tried to do to you.” A pause as his expression darkened. “Maybe I’ll pay them a visit.”
“Noah,” I said, deadly serious. “Don’t do anything crazy. I don’t want you getting into trouble on my behalf. And at least now I’ll know not to trust people who seem overly nice in the future.” I exhaled, my eyes meeting his. A sudden burst of attraction washed over me. I didn’t want to talk about all this dark, serious stuff. For today, I just wanted to enjoy his company.
I placed my hand on his. “I have a suggestion. Let’s try to forget about all the shitty people in the world for a while.” I nodded to the shore. “We should go for a paddle.”
“A paddle?”
“Yes,” I affirmed. “A paddle on the beach is the cure for all life’s woes.”
He cast me an affectionate, sidelong glance. His eyes skated over my profile, and my skin tingled at his focused attention.
“Okay,” he breathed, his earlier tension seeming to melt the longer he looked at me. I couldn’t handle the intensity, so I turned away, focusing on slipping off my shoes and socks as demurely as possible. Noah’s gaze travelled down to my feet, and something about his look had arousal swarming in my belly. I rolled up the ends of my jeans then stood.
“Are you coming?”
Noah still sat on the sand, gazing up at me. Lazily, he scanned my body, from my bare ankles to my lips. I clenched my thighs at the desire brewing inside me from his heated looks.
“Go on ahead. I’ll join you in a minute,” he said.
I strolled down toward the shore, sucking in a gasp when the cool, fresh water met my toes. The coldness invigorated me. I looked down as I walked, avoiding the small pebbles and seashells, as my thoughts wandered to the future.
I’d convinced Sister Dorothy I was a good candidate for joining a convent, but I still had my doubts. Noah being the number one reason. My feelings for him were too strong to deny. I cast him a glance and saw he’d taken off his boots and socks and was heading toward me. Nerves tightened in my stomach. There was something about his confident stride I just couldn’t look away from.
Why did he have to be so alluring? If I’d never met Noah, making the decision to become a nun would be so much easier.
Silently, he joined me in the water. We walked side by side, and I cast him a quick glance. He was already looking at me, studying my profile, and a flutter went through me.
“Have you thought any more about staying?” I asked, hopefully.
His expression instantly dimmed. “I’m sorry, Estella, but staying isn’t an option for me.”
Sadness gripped me. “When are you leaving?”
“Soon,” he said, somewhat rueful. Emotion sat heavy in my throat. I was going to miss him so much. I’d think about him every day for the rest of life and wonder about what might’ve been.
“What about your father’s remembrance ceremony?”
“Everything is in place for that. I’ll probably leave the day after.”
I swallowed down a thick ball of emotion. His eyes took on a mournful gleam. “You don’t want me to go?”
“Obviously not. Why else do you think I asked you to stay?”
“You asked me to stay for Vee. You didn’t ask me to stay for you.”
I grew flustered. “Would you have given a different answer if I did?”
A long silence fell, his gaze never leaving mine. “I can’t stay for you if you’re leaving to join a convent,” he stated simply.
I turned and started walking again, a jumble of emotions warring within me. I paused and swung back around. “Even if I wasn’t joining a convent, I couldn’t go on living in that house. It’d send me mad just like it did Vee.”
“There’s always a third option,” Noah said, coming to stand before me. His hand slid down my arm. He interlaced his fingers with mine, and the connection of our palms felt electric.
“Which is?” I whispered.
“When I go, you could hop on the back of my bike and come with me.”
For a second, time stood still. I was swept up in a whirlwind of possibility, filling me with a new, exhilarating kind of hope. “Come with you?” I asked breathily.
Noah leaned in, his voice thick as he said, “We can go anywhere you want to go.”
“Don’t say that unless you mean it.” I couldn’t deny that the idea of riding off into the sunset with Noah made me ridiculously light-headed. Going to college and joining a convent gave me a resigned sense of purpose. But venturing out into the great unknown with Noah filled me with sheer exhilaration and joy. The very thought felt like true freedom and wasn’t that what I’d wanted all along? To be free of the shackles that bound me?
“I mean it,” Noah said, his eyes sincere as they traced my features. They stopped at my mouth. I saw his intention to kiss me, and my stomach flipped.
He took my face in his hands, and when his mouth brushed mine my very soul left my body. He deepened the kiss, and the gentle pressure of his lips was almost celestial. I didn’t react until his hands slid from my cheeks to my neck and into my hair. I emitted a quiet moan and opened my mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue inside.
I forgot about the families and dog walkers on the beach. My entire existence shrunk down to the size of a pin, and all I could concentrate on was Noah. He kissed m
e like both our lives depended on it, drank me in and swallowed me whole. Tingles skittered down my spine, from the base of my neck where he gripped my hair in his fist, all the way to the tips of my toes.
I never wanted to leave this moment.
If I could live in this pure, unadulterated euphoria forever, I would.
Noah emitted a quiet groan, and my breathing quickened. I gripped his T-shirt tight for fear he might disappear and drift away like he was nothing but a sweet, too good to be true dream.
Then a splash of cold water hit me right in the face, and the spell was broken. I gasped and drew back. Two little boys ran away giggling. I looked to Noah, and a small laugh escaped me when I saw how his dark, wet hair hung over his forehead. He’d taken the brunt of the splash.
“Little fuckers,” he murmured in annoyance, and I chuckled some more.
He narrowed his eyes on me. “Find it funny, do you?”
I grinned wide. “Just a little bit.”
Noah moved toward me, his movements sleek and lithe, like a circling tiger. I moved back, but I wasn’t fast enough. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me down into the water. I was reminded of the time I’d pushed him into the bathtub, and he’d pulled me in on top of him. Only now, Noah was the one on top, and it awakened something deep and primal in me.
I liked being surrounded and dominated by him. And I really liked it when he pushed my wet hair out of my face, grabbed my wrists and pressed them down into the shallow water. His mouth hovered above mine. I’d never wanted anything more than for him to kiss me again.
“Kiss me,” I begged, unable to hold back the plea.
His grin was devilish as he gave a tut. “That wouldn’t be very chaste. Nuns aren’t supposed to want to be kissed,” he chided.
“I’m not a nun yet,” I said, exasperated as I took charge, pressing my lips to his. He reacted instantly, licking into my mouth with wild abandon.
This time there was a terrifying eroticism to our kiss. His taste etched itself onto my brain, cigarettes and mint, as our wet bodies strained against one another. I ran one of my hands across his shoulder and up to his neck, and I slid my other under the hem of his T-shirt to stroke his stomach. A tremble shuddered through him like he was starved for my touch.
A needy whimper escaped me, and he broke the kiss. Our chests rose and fell with our laboured breathing and anxiety took hold. If this was how good it felt only to kiss him, then how would it feel to give myself over to him completely?
The atmosphere shifted. Noah stared at me intensely for a long time before his expression grew detached. I wondered what thought process had caused him to switch so quickly. Reaching out, I stroked his cheek. “Where have you gone?”
He drew away, and my heart sank. “I should get you home,” he said, not meeting my gaze. He sounded almost … guilty? But why? It wasn’t like I hadn’t wanted him to kiss me.
I followed him back to where we’d left our shoes and socks. All my clothes were wet, as were Noah’s, but I was too preoccupied with my emotions to notice the discomfort. I could tell that he wanted me, but something was holding him back, and I yearned to know what it was. I suspected it was the same reason he said no when I asked him to have sex with me.
But then why kiss me at all? Why ask me to come away with him? It didn’t make sense.
The detachment in him as we drove back to the house broke my heart. I asked him to stop at the top of the town because I couldn’t take sitting on the back of his bike a moment longer. He was tearing me apart inside, and I had no idea why he’d become so suddenly withdrawn.
“I’ll walk home. I need to stretch my legs,” I said, climbing off the bike, and he nodded, his expression blank.
He didn’t look back once as he took off, leaving only the roar of the engine in my ears. It matched the roaring of my heart. After today, I was far from finding enlightenment. In fact, my reaction to Noah’s kiss, and his subsequent withdrawal, made me feel more lost than ever.
21.
When Noah disappeared out of sight, I walked in the direction of the church. There was no mass going so the pews sat empty, and the silence was deafening. I went to the side of the altar and lit a candle for Dad. It was something I did every time I came here, but today I felt like I was lighting it more for myself than for him.
With how I felt right now, I wasn’t sure there were enough candles or prayers in the world to help me.
I placed the candle in an empty holder and went to kneel by a pew. I bent my head, put my hands together and silently recited the Hail Mary. I was halfway through the prayer when I heard voices. The organ came to life and sweet, angelic music filled the church. The choir was practicing upstairs, the familiar Latin of Veni Creator Spiritus a balm to my tortured soul.
Veni, creator spiritus,
Mentes tuorum visita
Imple superna gratia
Quae tu creasti pectora
I translated the hymn as I listened, hoping it might bring some clarity.
Come, Holy Spirit, Creator blest,
And in our souls take up Thy rest
Come with Thy grace and heavenly aid
To fill the hearts which thou hast made.
Even without the religious aspect, the sentiment in the hymn was beautiful. I wished for my heart to be filled with grace, instead of the emotional, chaotic desires Noah brought out in me. I wished for certainty, but it continued to evade. I looked at the paintings adorning the walls, and the intricate, pretty colours of the stained-glass windows. Each picture told a story. I always tried to find the meaning in them, but my mind was too loud to concentrate. Mary stared down at me with her benevolent eyes, but if she knew the sinful thoughts in my head, I doubted she’d be so charitable.
The ways in which I wanted Noah to consume me didn’t feel very chaste.
I stayed and listened to the choir practice for the next hour before quietly slipping out of the church and walking home. It was almost dark by the time I reached the house. A lamp was on in the living room, but I didn’t check to see who was in there. Instead I crept upstairs and shut myself in my room. I peeled off my damp clothes, my skin gritty with sand. I needed to wash it off, so I went to take a bath.
Even though the house was quiet, Ard na Mara was never truly silent. There was always the creak of a floorboard, or the groan of a pipe. The lost echoes of lives long past. The building was alive in a way that often felt foreboding.
I tried to relax in the warm bath, but every time I closed my eyes I relived Noah’s kiss, the feel of his mouth on mine and my hand trailing across his stomach. The scent of salty seawater in my nose. The way he held down my wrists and took control. I shuddered then, a swarm of desire flooding me at the memory of our first kiss in the field.
“Remember this.”
“Why?”
“Because if you make this fucked up choice then it might have to last you a lifetime.”
Noah was right. If I went through with becoming a nun, my memories of him would have to last a long, long time. I’d be old and grey and still thinking of the fresh, invigorating smell of the sea and the pulse of electricity when our bodies collided. The sheer alchemy of my soul joining with his.
I climbed out of the bath, dried myself and fell into bed. When I finally slept, it was fitful. I woke in the middle of the night, sensing a presence in the room. I expected the sleep paralysis, or the ghost of Victor, but none of those came. I could move my body fine. No phantom voice spoke to me, but a presence lingered. My skin tingled with it.
The room was dark, and there was a shadow in the far corner. As my eyes adjusted, the shadow took a form. Noah crouched on his haunches in the chair, looking like a winged chimera on the roof of Notre Dame. He was shirtless and bare foot, wearing only his black jeans.
“Noah,” I whispered. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer, and for second, fear gripped me. I hallucinated horns rising out of his skull, bony wings elongating from his shoulder blades, but it was
just my mind and the late hour playing tricks.
“Say something. You’re freaking me out.” He remained silent. I sat upright and tugged the blanket to my chest. “You look like a gargoyle sitting hunched over there.”
“Good,” he finally spoke. “Maybe I’ll scare off some evil.”
My stomach twisted. “What evil?”
His eyes wandered up to the ceiling. “Can’t you feel it? It stains every inch of this house.”
My skin pimpled at the haunting quality of his voice. “Is that why you went to prison?” I was finally ready to know the truth even though it might scare me. “Tell me what happened,” I urged. Half his face was in shadow, but I could still feel his inner torture, so heavy it hung in the air like a sharpened blade ready to drop.
“I killed my father,” he confessed.
Everything inside of me seized. I wished I’d misheard him, but I knew I hadn’t.
“I thought Victor died from heart failure.”
“He did.”
“Then how …”
“He attacked me. I was just a kid, but I was stronger than he gave me credit for. When I fought back, his heart gave out.”
“If he attacked you first that’s self-defence. You didn’t kill him on purpose.”
“That’s not how Sylvia painted it,” he said, his mouth curling with disdain.
Frost iced my veins. “Sylvia had you put away for killing Victor? Did she know it was an accident?” What with her past profession, Sylvia would’ve been well-versed in the law. And since Noah was just fifteen it would be easy to keep things quiet. Nobody in town knew how Victor really died. More things fell into place, and I finally truly understood Vee and Noah’s disregard for their ailing mother.
“She knew,” Noah affirmed. I thought of something Vee said to me weeks ago, about abandoning Noah when he needed her most. Did she just stand by and allow him to be sent to prison?
“Did Vee know?” I whispered.
A conflicted look passed over him. “Vee wasn’t in the right state of mind to help.”
“That’s no excuse.”