by Aly Martinez
Oh hell no.
“Clare,” I hissed.
“We could trade Elisabeth for her,” she continued. “If you kill Heath, Roman will trade Tessa for Elisabeth. We’ll have our family back.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth as my pulse skyrocketed. No way was Tessa getting near this. And even suggesting something like that left me questioning everything I knew about Clare.
“What are you doing?” I interjected into their conversation.
Walter’s hand snapped in my direction to silence me, but he kept his gaze leveled on his wife. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Noir, seriously?” Marco called. “This bitch is playing you. She’s been shacked up with Light for weeks.”
She held Walter’s gaze, sliding her hands up and down his chest as she jerked her head to Marco. “I don’t like him. He scares me.”
An arrogant grin tipped one side of Noir’s mouth as he nodded almost imperceptibly.
As she cuddled into his chest, her gaze landed on mine. But she wasn’t there. At least, not the woman I knew.
She didn’t even blink as Walter suddenly retrieved the gun from the back of his pants.
“What the…” was all Marco got out before Noir pulled the trigger.
Marco’s cruiser had pinged at one of Noir’s known properties, less than ten miles away. Tomlinson and a team of agents were already on the way over. Rorke had once again been banished from the investigation, but this time, for obvious reasons, he didn’t voice any complaints.
The windows had nearly fogged from the molten anger rolling off Roman as we sped through town.
“How the fuck are you so calm?” he asked.
I kept my eyes on the road as I stated definitively, “Because I’m going to get her back.”
He curled his lip. “You don’t fucking know that. I swear to God, if he so much as—”
“Nope,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “Don’t do that. Don’t let your mind go there. They’re gonna be fine.” I cracked my neck. “Clare can handle Noir.”
I felt his incredulous gaze jump to me.
“Are you fucking crazy?” he asked. “I’ve seen the shit he used to do to her.”
My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel. I’d seen that shit too, but I refused to think about it. She’d asked me to trust her weeks ago, and I’d be damned if now was the moment when I broke that promise.
“He could have killed her every day for seven years,” I said. “He never did. She’s lived in that lion’s den before and come out on the other side. She’ll do it again.”
Roman scoffed, clearly not sharing my confidence. “And what about Elisabeth?”
“She’ll take care of her, too.”
“Jesus Christ, I fucking hope you’re right.” Roman banged his head back against the headrest. “You need to take my vest,” he told the ceiling.
“Keep your shit,” I grunted, weaving through traffic.
He peeled his shirt over his head and unstrapped the Velcro on his vest. “He’ll be gunning for you, Light.”
I turned off the highway, opting for a side road with less traffic. “He’s a sociopath. He’s gunning for civilization in general.”
He dropped his Rubicon vest on the center console between us. “You know what I mean. He’s got my wife, but it’s you he’s gonna be after.” His eyes darkened, and his jaw ticked. “Besides, anything happens to me, Elisabeth will be taken care of. Clare needs you. Tessa too.”
My chest tightened. He was only partially wrong.
“I need them, Leblanc. I’m going to get her back. Elisabeth too. But you’re putting that fucking vest back on or I’m shooting you myself.”
“Come on. Don’t be a dumbass. The DEA is not going to let me storm in there this time. You need this shit more than I do. Kevlar will slow a bullet, but Rubicon will stop it.”
I turned to look at him. Roman and I had butted heads more often than not. He was stubborn as a fucking mule and didn’t have any problem letting you know when he thought you were wrong. Which was basically any time you disagreed with him. But, with all of that said, he was hands down one of the best men I’d ever met.
He’d waded into the middle of this mess from the very start. Blood, sweat, and tears, he’d been there from the moment he’d found out about Tessa. He didn’t give a damn that she wasn’t his child. He’d never backed down or cowered from what seemed like the impossible task of keeping both of our families safe. The world needed more men like him. And, if it hadn’t been for his woman being at Noir’s place, I would have pulled over and left his ass on the side of the road just to ensure he woke up the next morning.
As it stood, I didn’t have that choice.
I did, however, have the choice to put him in that fucking vest to make sure he at least didn’t go home full of bullet holes.
“Then we better hope my aim is better than his.”
“Light, don’t be stupid,” he objected.
I ignored him. “We’re two minutes out. Suit up.”
Elisabeth screamed and frantically crawled away, but I felt not one ounce of remorse as Marco’s lifeless body hit the floor.
Maybe I was just as ruthless as Walt after all.
Or maybe I was just happy to rid the world of one more maniac.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that he was the APD’s mole who had gotten Heath’s friend killed. But, worse than that, I knew for certain he was the worthless piece of shit who had somehow gotten to my friend—my only friend—and hand-delivered her to the Devil himself. He’d more than earned his spot in Hell as far as I was concerned.
Something had broken inside me when Walt had reminded me that I was his wife.
Or, more accurately, something had been reborn.
No matter how much I hated it, I was Mrs. Walter Noir.
He’d spent years emotionally terrorizing me, but in that time, I’d learned how to manipulate him to stay alive.
I hadn’t thought I’d had any of that left in me after I’d lived in the light with Heath. But, the moment Elisabeth had walked through that door, an all-too-familiar darkness had consumed me. And, as long as Walt was alive, I’d never fully escape it.
Jail was no longer good enough. I wanted him wiped from the face of the Earth.
For the first time, I had a life to fight for.
A daughter who depended on me—and for more than just to keep her alive.
A handsome, kind, and warm man who loved me—and not in the warped and disgusting way Walt had.
And, lastly, I had a baby I hadn’t even had the chance to tell Heath about yet growing within me. I’d only found out earlier that morning. I didn’t know how far along I was. Or even if it would be a viable pregnancy, given my history. But, for that one moment, as I’d cried tears of joy on the floor in Heath’s bathroom while staring down at those two pink lines I’d tried so hard to avoid when I had been with Walt, it was a baby—a piece of me and a piece of Heath. Conceived in love and not fear. The way it always should have been.
I would not allow Walt to take that away from me.
Or take me away from them.
“Will you get me something for my face?” I asked softly.
He leaned away and cupped a hand on my jaw. “When are you going to stop being so damn difficult? You don’t have to fight me on everything.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I swear.”
Bile crawled up the back of my throat as his lips swept across mine. “Lie down. I’ll get you some ice.”
I held my breath as I seductively trailed my fingers down his arm to the gun held tightly in his palm. “Here. Give me this and I’ll keep an eye on Elisabeth.”
He chuckled and opened his hand.
I kept the surprise hidden from my face, but hope slammed in my chest as I reached for the gun.
And then I froze when his hand shifted from my jaw down to my throat. He gripped impossibly tight, cutting my air off. Panic tore thro
ugh me, but I forced myself to stay calm. It was the only way to stay alive.
Guiding me with my neck, he walked me backward until I hit the wall. My lungs burned and my vision started to tunnel, but I didn’t fight. I remained perfectly still as he brushed his nose with mine, whispering against my lips, “I love you, Clare. But don’t press your luck. I’m not oblivious to your games. I just happen to like playing them with you.”
He studied my eyes, but I showed him nothing. And, after a few beats, a filthy grin pulled at his lips. He slammed my shoulders against the wall one last time before finally releasing me.
My legs had become weak, and I folded over, resting my hands on my knees as I gasped for air.
He stroked the top of my head and ordered, “Sit your ass on the bed. And don’t even think about pulling any of your bullshit.”
I kept my head down as I watched his feet disappear. He kicked Marco’s lifeless body all the way into the room before closing the door.
As soon as it clicked behind him, I moved. And I did it fast. “Stop crying. You’re making it worse. He’s a leech who thrives on the fear,” I whispered to Elisabeth as I began searching the room.
I hadn’t been to that particular house in a while, but everything looked the same as it always had. Walt’s desk sat in the corner, covered by paperwork and a laptop that reminded me more of an attorney’s than a drug dealer’s. I snatched the drawers open, but they were completely empty.
“What are you doing?” Elisabeth asked, climbing to her feet.
“I need a weapon. Help me look,” I said, moving to the nightstand, but that drawer was empty too. “Shit.”
“Clare, no,” she pleaded. “Don’t be the hero here. Let’s wait. The guys have to know we’re missing by now.”
“Maybe. But that’s not going to end well for any of us,” I said, continuing to search the room. “I can keep us alive. But, if they show up, I can’t promise the same for them.”
“You can’t do this,” she begged. “Please just think about Tessa.”
Oh, but I was. She had been living that life right alongside me.
I was going to end it for both of us.
Suddenly, I stopped as my gaze landed on the bed.
That room was exactly the same. Time hadn’t touched it at all. Same bedspread. Same pillowcases. Same sheets.
Everything was just as I’d left it.
Everything.
Every. Thing.
I sucked in a deep breath and lifted the watch Heath had given me to my lips.
Closing my eyes, I conjured up images of Heath and Tessa playing in the backyard. There was a dog we didn’t yet have racing around and barking as I stood on the deck, my stomach swollen with life, a content smile on my face, and a peace I had never experienced filling my heart.
Free of fear.
Free of pain.
Forever.
Kissing 11:11, I made the very last wish I’d hopefully ever need.
My heart pounded in my ears as I reached under the edge of the mattress.
By the time Roman and I arrived at Noir’s hideout, federal agents had it surrounded. Marco’s patrol car was parked in the driveway beside a shiny, black BMW that I assumed was Noir’s.
“Talk to me,” I barked at Tomlinson, crouching next to him behind a black SUV.
“From what we can tell, both of the women are still alive. We have two distinct movements in the south bedroom and another in the kitchen. However, our concern is it seems to be only one male. We’re trying to get eyes on the inside to see if it’s Marco or Noir.”
Dread pooled in my gut. “Son of a bitch,” I bit out. “If it’s Noir, you’re going to try to take him alive, aren’t you?”
“We need him, Light.”
“You have got to be shitting me. You’re gonna play this out and send in a fucking negotiator while he’s holding two innocent women?”
“I will repeat: We need him alive, Light. What the fuck are you even doing here? I told Leblanc not to show up here.”
I didn’t even humor him with an answer. I pushed to my feet and drew my weapon. “I’m going in.”
“The fuck you are!” he shouted back, catching my arm in an attempt to drag me back down.
“Get the fuck off me.” I snatched my arm away, and then we were suddenly interrupted.
A woman’s scream rang through the air.
My entire body went taut. “Let me go!” I roared.
“We’ve got activity inside!” an agent yelled. “It’s coming our way.”
“Don’t do this, Light. Do not fucking do this,” Tomlinson begged as chaos broke out around us.
At least a dozen agents took cover, locked and loaded, all aimed at the door.
Time stood still as that front door swung open.
I held my breath, shamefully hoping for Clare to appear.
A frantic, blood-covered woman ran out.
But she wasn’t mine.
“Elisabeth!” Roman yelled, taking off at a dead sprint after having shoved his way through the line of agents.
“Help her!” she cried, flying into his arms. “Please. Oh God. Help her.”
My feet were moving before my mind could even process the dangers on the other side. Clare was in there. Nothing could stop me.
Not Tomlinson. Not the DEA. And sure as fuck not Noir.
I battled the urge to call her name as I made it into the house but thought better of announcing my presence.
I held my breath as I cleared the den before making my way through the house, toward the south bedroom.
And, as I turned the corner, my gun drawn and extended out in front of me, nothing could have prepared me for the scene in front of me.
Blood.
Entire fucking oceans of it covering the floor.
Please. God.
My hands tensed around my gun, her words from weeks ago replaying in my mind. “You’re going to have to trust me.” And that trust was the only thing that kept my knees from buckling right then and there.
I stepped over Marco’s body as I cautiously crept inside. Motion from the other side of the bed had me swinging my gun.
“Oh fuck,” I choked.
I was vaguely aware of agents flooding in behind me. Mumbled curses filled the air as they took in the massacre around us.
However, I saw but one person.
She was kneeling beside Noir’s body. Covered head to toe in blood. A knife in her hand. Her feral eyes locked on me as she tracked my movement.
It was a sight straight out of a horror movie.
And still somehow the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
She was alive.
Still breathing.
Still mine.
Still…
“Clare,” I said gently, squatting several feet away and bringing us to eye level. “I’m here, babe. Tell me what you need.”
She blinked and then opened her hand, sending the knife clattering to the floor. “I couldn’t let him ruin our future.”
“I know, babe. Come here.”
She shook her head and flashed her wild eyes down at the blood covering her chest and her arms. “This isn’t who I am. I’m…I’m not him. I just…” She looked back up. “He was never going to stop.”
I kept my gun aimed at Noir’s motionless body. Despite the massive amounts of blood pooling around him, I didn’t trust that he was really gone.
“Clare, I know who you are,” I replied, curling two fingers in her direction. “Come here.”
“It’s just—”
“Clare,” I growled. “Listen to me. Everything is going to be okay. But I need you to come on over here and step away from him. Just in case.”
She drew in a shuddered breath and rose to her feet. Emotionlessly, she stepped over his legs as she walked toward me.
I stood to my full height and opened my arms in an offer she had never refused. This time was no different. Plastering herself to my front, she hugged me tighter than ever before.
“She’s fine.”
Her voice remained steady as she pleaded, “Tell me it’s over.”
“It’s over, Clare,” I vowed, tucking my gun away as agents got their hands on Noir.
The tears finally appeared on her red-streaked face as she struggled with trembling hands to undo the watch I’d given her for Christmas.
Holding my gaze, she dropped it onto the floor. “That’s what I wished for.”
My arms spasmed around her, and emotion lodged in my throat.
“I want to go home, Heath.”
Without words, I bent down, caught her at the backs of the legs, and lifted her into my arms. “Whatever you need,” I replied as I carried her away from Noir for the very last time.
When we arrived at the hospital, Heath carried me straight into an unused room and flipped the shower on. Methodically, he removed every piece of my blood-soaked clothing and dropped them into a nearby trash can before tying the bag up and tossing it in the hall. I wasn’t sure if the police wanted them as evidence or if he couldn’t get the remnants of Walter Noir far enough away from us.
“Am I going to be in trouble?” I asked as he climbed into the shower with me.
“No,” he replied without expounding.
But that was enough for me. I trusted him.
As water poured over us and red circled in the drain, Heath held me. However, in a lot of ways, I was holding him. He was visibly distraught. His hands repeatedly traced and washed every inch of my body, but there was not one thing sexual about that shower. He was struggling, and if a quiet shower where he convinced himself that I really was okay was what he needed, I’d give it to him.
When I was finally clean, he dropped his forehead to mine and breathed, “Jesus, Clare.”
“Are you going to ask me what happened?” I asked, looping my arms around his hips.
“No. You’re standing here with me and he’s dead. I don’t need anything else.”
I swallowed hard. It was important to me that he knew. He’d eventually get curious. Maybe he’d assume the worst of me. Maybe the best. Neither would be accurate. Though, knowing Heath, he’d never ask for fear of upsetting me.