Breaking Noah

by Missy Johnson

  “Yep,” I say, swallowing hard. “Let’s do this.”

  I see Luke standing in the shadows outside the union entrance. His eyes light up as his gaze slowly moves over my body. Noah tenses next to me.

  “Hey, Luke,” I say, forcing a smile.

  “Hey. You look hot.” He winks at Noah. “Hey, Mr. B.”

  “Hey,” Noah mutters.

  “So, let’s do this, huh? Dill is at a frat party tonight. I know as soon as he sees me with her he’ll be pushing me to buy whatever it is he’s selling.”

  “You better make sure she doesn’t get hurt,” Noah growls. “If you touch her, I swear I’ll hunt you down and kill you.”

  “Calm down, Mr. B., I got this. Come on, Zars.” It’s irritating, him calling me by a nickname that only Dillon, Karly, and Ryan used to call me. I guess I could use the anger tonight to keep me levelheaded.

  As I climb into Luke’s car, that nasty feeling you get when something’s about to go wrong toys with my emotions. I’m not sure how we can fail, but on the off chance we do…I can’t even think about that. I need to keep my head in the game. Remember, I’m not just getting justice for Karly, but now for the man I could possibly be in love with. The man I falsely accused of being a monster, when in actuality I was sharing a bed with the real boogeyman.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Zara. I promise he won’t touch you at all,” Luke reassures me. Smiling weakly at him, I turn my head to stare out the window at the buildings passing in the darkness.

  “I just want to get it done. The thought of being in the same room as him gives me the creeps. Do you think we can make it fast?”

  “Depends on how convincing you are,” he states flatly. He’s right. I have to give the impression that I’m totally into him so nobody in the party thinks it’s a setup. Especially Dillon.

  Taking the flask full of whiskey out of my purse, I chug a huge mouthful. On an ordinary day, a swallow wouldn’t do anything for me, but I haven’t eaten and the warm honey liquid hits harshly in the pit of my stomach, inducing an almost immediate buzz.

  “Okay, I’m good. Let’s just get in and out. Take what we need and we’ll go from there,” I say, courage surging through me.

  I put away the flask and pull out my phone, typing out a quick message to Noah.

  Me: This is all for show. It’ll all be over soon.

  Noah: Don’t think about it. Just do what you came to do.

  A sense of relief washes over me. Whereas I couldn’t tell Dillon my plans for Noah, I can be completely open with Noah about anything. He understands the parts of me that I don’t even understand myself. Heather was right, he’s the absolute best. And the greatest part of all of it…he’s mine. I just hope after tonight he’ll be able to see through all the ugly parts of what brought us together and still feel the same…even be able to love me.

  Luckily we find a parking spot within a block of the party that’s already in full swing. The cheers of drunk frat boys and the squeals of the vapid sorority girls echo throughout the entire neighborhood. I get out of the car and wait for Luke to join me. Hand in hand, we make our way up the sidewalk. Just before we enter, he adjusts something on his chest. When I stare at him, questioning his actions, he points between his pecs and mouths “wire.” I should have known.

  As soon as we walk through the front doors, I’m reminded why I’m not much of a partier. The music is too loud, the smoke is too thick, and the scents of cheap perfume and stale beer have me ready to vomit, but still I hold my head high and keep moving.

  “Breathe,” Luke reminds me, and I’m thankful. I wasn’t aware I was holding my breath until I took that next inhalation and my lungs burned. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough for this.

  Yes, you are. You have no choice. This is a mess that only you can fix.

  Straightening my spine, I hold my head high and continue walking through the living room, through the throngs of people flailing about to the toxic-to-my-senses music, and enter the kitchen. As if Moses parted the Red Sea, everyone clears a path so the first pair of eyes I connect with are Dillon’s. His jaw tight, he bores his angry brown eyes into me and holds my gaze. Remembering Luke’s earlier advice, I breathe, shallowly, but I’m at least not going to pass out. Thankfully the blood’s rushing so quickly in my ears that I can’t make out the nasty things that people are most likely saying about me while they’re whispering to one another.

  Luke slaps hands with some other guys and hugs a few girls, all while I’m holding his hand so tightly, I’m sure they’re going to fuse together at some point. As we move across the kitchen, Dillon rounds the island, holding a red cup full of beer, and stands before us.

  “What’s this shit about?” he asks Luke, gesturing to me.

  “Figured since you were done with her, I could have a shot,” he replies, nonchalant. I’ve come to know Luke isn’t one of those guys determined to screw as many coeds as possible, but he sure does play the act fairly well.

  “You know she’s damaged, right? Kind of a wack job? And a pretty lousy lay, too.” I want nothing more than to take off my six-inch pump and bash him in the eyeball, but I refrain and act like I don’t hear them. Putting on my act as well, I dance in place to the music and smile sweetly at the passing girls.

  Luke just laughs. “I’ll catch up with you later, man. I promised Zara a good time and I want to give her the full experience,” he says to Dillon, then turns to me. “Ready to dance, beautiful?”

  “Of course,” I say, my words sounding convincing.

  Back in the living room, I can still feel Dillon’s eyes on me, but I refocus my attention on Luke. He promised to keep me safe. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, especially Dillon. Part of our plan is to make Dillon think that Luke and I are actually together, and I have to portray that if we’re going to get anywhere.

  So as Luke holds me at a distance, dancing to a slow melody, I pull myself closer so there isn’t an inch between us. Flipping my back to his front, I slowly grind on him, wrap my arms backward around his neck, and rest my head on his chest. I try to let the music wash over me, but now that the whiskey’s doing its job and I feel more comfortable with Luke, I can finally hear the crude comments coming from the onlookers.

  “Dude, Dillon said she was a bit of a slut. I’d be willing to give her a shot.”

  “I can see why Bain threw everything away for a night with her. I’d do the same.”

  “What a fucking skank. Wasn’t she just fucking Bain last week?”

  “Luke, let me holler at you real quick.” That voice. I recognize it. My eyes fly open and see none other than Dillon in front of me.

  “What’s up? I’m not leaving her out here with the leeches.”

  “Dude, come on. Trust me, she’ll be fine.”

  Luke nods and grips my hip, letting me know he’ll be right back. As he starts to walk away, a noticeably drunk frat guy comes up to me and grabs on to my waist, pulling me toward his pathetic excuse for an erection, grinding it into my hip.

  “Back off,” I warn, pushing him, but his hold tightens.

  “Listen, baby. I already know why you’re here. I can make you feel real good. Better than Luke. Better than Bain. Let me show you how a real man fucks a lady.” I’m about to knee him in the crotch when Luke’s fist breezes past my face, nearly taking me out with it, but instead connecting with the drunk guy’s face.

  “She’s already got a date tonight. And she said back the fuck off,” he seethes, shoving the guy backward so he tumbles over the couch. Winking at me, he continues to follow Dillon down a long hallway and into a bedroom.

  I wait a few minutes and then go in the same direction. Lucky for us, the door is still open. Crouching down, I pull my phone from my purse, turn on the camera, and begin to record their conversation.

  “Okay, so you needed something?” Dillon asks, and Luke nods. “Something to guarantee that Zara puts out tonight?” Luke smiles a disgusting pervert smile and nods again.

  “I don’t w
ant anything coming back on me, though. What do you have? Sorry, dude, but I’ve been trying to fuck her for a while. Now that we all know what kinda skills the girl has, I need to try her out.”

  Dillon shakes his head, laughing. Fucking laughing. “She’s really not that great, but I feel you. Maybe it was just me. I had to be drunk to even consider it. Now, her cousin Karly. Holy shit, that bitch could ride a dick.” He lets out a low whistle and fire flames through my veins. I almost blow my cover, but I remember the plan. Remember why I’m here. Remember this isn’t just about Karly anymore.

  Dillon pulls a small plastic bag from his front jeans pocket and hands it to Luke. All of this I catch on my camera. “I almost got caught last year, so my dad hooked me up with a guy that has this new stuff. She won’t remember a fucking thing. You’ll be clear. And it lowers inhibitions, if you know what I mean.”

  Luke takes the package and eyes it for a moment before putting it in his breast pocket on his polo. “I’ll let you know how it works.” Slipping Dillon a few bills, Luke starts to make his way to the door. I stand quickly and open the door before either guy has a chance to make it out.

  “You ready to go, baby?” I whisper, loud enough for Dillon to hear.

  “Absolutely,” Luke responds, and the boys nod at each other. Sick to my stomach. I’m fucking disgusted.

  “Have a good night, Zars,” Dillon calls out to me as we’re just about to the front door. I can’t even fake a response, so I put my middle finger in the air as the door closes behind me.

  We still put on our charade as we walk back to the car. Noah’s standing at the passenger door, waiting for us. Letting go of Luke’s hand, I run to Noah and into his arms. “It’s done. I got it,” I mutter into his chest.

  “You did excellent. We got the audio. Zara, send me the video.” I do as he asks. When he watches everything unfold, his face heats with anger, but the smirk is undeniable. “Do you have any idea what this means?”

  “That we got him?”

  “Yeah, but we can pretty much push for anything that we want. The dumbass implicated his dad on videotape.” I remember Dillon briefly saying his dad got him the drugs. Inside, I’m doing backflips.

  “Watch this,” I say, sending the video to another recipient. Within a few minutes, my phone rings.

  “Hello,” I answer, my voice sweet and happy.

  “What the fuck? Goddammit, Zara. You’re a fucking lunatic.”

  “I’m sorry, Dillon. What was that? I couldn’t quite make out your words over the sound of revenge clouding the line. Did you say that you can’t wait for the local news outlet to receive this video? To know that the future congressman is peddling drugs to his son in college so he doesn’t get caught screwing girls over?”

  “What do you want?” Dillon concedes.

  “School: Drop out immediately. Drugs: Flush them down the toilet. School board: Tell them that you manufactured the video you sent of me and Noah and face the consequences of that.”

  “I can’t do—” he starts, but I cut him off.

  “This isn’t a negotiation, Dillon. All of it gets done or the video goes to the news in the morning. Text me when you’ve fixed your fucking mess.”

  Pressing end on the call, I look up at Noah to see a huge smile on his face. Kissing the corner of his mouth, I back away to give Luke a giant hug. “I couldn’t have done this without you. Thank you so much.” I give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Noah growls and Luke chuckles.

  “Calm down, Mr. B. I’m not stepping into your space. She’s yours,” Luke jokes, raising his hands and backing away from me.

  —

  After Luke goes home and Noah and I are back at his apartment, my phone chimes. The text from Dillon lets me know that I’ve finally accomplished my mission. He doesn’t get to go to school, he doesn’t get to drug girls, and Noah might get his job back.

  Later that night, the dean calls Noah, alerting him of the recent update in the case, offering him the position he had back. To my surprise, Noah declines the job, stating that there’s too much water under the bridge and he wouldn’t be able to get the respect he deserves from the students. They argue for a bit, but finally he wins and disconnects the call.

  “Now what?” I ask, feeling guilty. I’ve cost him everything and he’s still here with me.

  “I’m going to write. It’s what I want to do anyway, so why not?”

  “What about a job? How are you going to live?” Panic is evident in my voice, and he kisses my forehead, pulls me to his chest, and slowly rubs circles on my back.

  “I’ve got some money put away for a rainy day. Don’t worry about it. Worst case, I go back to teaching in a year or so, but for now, I just want to be with you and write my novel.”

  “Sounds fantastic.”

  “It really does. Now get over here, stop feeling guilty, and give your man a kiss.”

  My man. Finally. After all this time. He’s mine. I can do what I want with him without having mixed emotions. I’m finally allowed to just love him. And accept his love.

  Epilogue

  Noah

  THREE YEARS LATER

  “Did it come?” Zara yells from the bathroom, just getting out of the shower. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to living with her; the woman is full of surprises. Not only was our wedding a quick trip to Vegas—her choice, of course—she’s applied to law school at Northwestern so she can stay close to home…to me.

  I flip through the mail and come across a letter from the university. I test its weight, and it’s fairly heavy. “Something’s here. Want me to open it?”

  Zara comes running, dressed only in a towel, and snatches the letter from my hand. Clutching it to her chest, she sits on the couch, the towel riding a little high, and sighs.

  “This is it. It has to be,” she whispers.

  “Well…”

  “I can’t do it. You have to. Here,” she says, thrusting the letter back to me. Sitting down next to her, I pull her feet onto my lap and she lays back against the sofa, covering her eyes with an arm. I could sit here all day and look at her like this: hair sopping wet, wearing only a towel that’s short enough for me to stare at her beauty.

  “Okay. Here it goes.” I rip apart the envelope and pull out the single sheet of paper on top of a thick folder. “Are you ready?” I ask. I’m sure I’m as nervous as she is right about now.

  “Just tell me. Yes or no. Don’t be a dick, Noah,” she stresses, exasperated.

  “All right,” I singsong. “Dear Mrs. Hamilton-Bain. It’s our pleasure to advise you of your acceptance into the Northwestern University School of Law….” I would continue reading, but she’s already leaped out of my lap, leaving the towel far behind, and dances across the living room.

  “I knew it. I just knew I aced that interview!” she yells, pumping her fist in the air.

  “Zara. Your towel.” She glances down, noticing she’s stark naked, and her entire body flushes.

  “Shit. I’ll be right back.”

  She runs into the bedroom and comes out a few minutes later dressed in an oversized T-shirt and yoga shorts. “I did it.” She smiles, her eyes full of happiness.

  “I married the perfect girl and she’s just been accepted to the school of her choice. How could life get any better?” I pick her up, swinging her in my arms. Zara wraps her hands around my neck and pulls me in for a passionate kiss.

  “I know how,” she teases, nibbling at my bottom lip.

  “Is that how you feel, wife?”

  “It is, but that’s not really what I was getting at.” Zara laughs, jumping out of my arms and retrieving her laptop from the bedroom. She turns the screen to face me, and my heart about leaps out of my chest.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious.”

  Reading the words written on the screen, my eyes fill with unshed tears. “Really?”

  “You did it. Three books later and you finally did it. Today is a day all our dreams come true.” Zara kiss
es the scruff that’s built up on my chin and takes a seat on the couch.

  “I married the man of my dreams and he just happens to be listed on the New York Times Best Sellers list. How could life get any better?”

  “It can’t. It’s not possible. Well, at least until you decide it’s time to have babies.”

  She blushes and hides behind her hair. “Well, about that.”

  From behind her back, she pulls a thin white stick and hands it to me. “Looks like we’re living the dream, baby.”

  To our children. Born and unborn. Tiny humans or fur babies. Without you, there’s no purpose. Thank you for being you and loving us unconditionally.

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, we’d like to thank our amazing husbands for their tireless efforts in keeping us happy long enough to tell a story; our fantastic agents, Marisa Corvisiero and Brittany Booker, for helping us through the fine details and being our cheerleaders; our Loveswept editor, Sue Grimshaw, because without her this book wouldn’t be here today; and the rest of our Random House team, who put in so much effort to make sure this book was as beautiful as it could be.

  We’d also like to thank our small group of cupcakes that was assembled when this book was just an idea in our heads, our own respective street teams, each and every reader who’s taken a chance on this novel, and, finally, all of the wonderful blogs that promote writers and books for no other reason than the desire to share the love of fiction. —Missy

  —

  You, my sweet little Aussie, saved me more than you’ll ever know. Thank you for your friendship, your talent, your honest opinions, and letting me be a part of this project with you. The world is a better place with you in it. I can’t wait to squeeze that baby.

  Us against the world. —Ashley

  BY MISSY JOHNSON AND ASHLEY SUZANNE

  Breaking Noah

  Devil’s Riders Series