by Allyn Lesley
Noah rubbed down Avi’s arms to provide further heat. Town cars and taxi cabs whizzed by them as Noah waited for Zach to bring around his car.
A dark car rounded the corner slowly.
Avi’s heated breath licked Noah’s skin.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he said.
She placed small kisses on the side of his mouth.
“I’m tearing every piece of cloth—”
Rapid popping sounds punctured the night.
Noah pushed Avi down, cushioning her from the cold pavement. Screams surrounded him.
Pulling out his gun, Noah opened fire, shattering the back glass. He sprinted down the middle of the street, his sight on his goal. Another shot went into the car, and he was pleased when he heard screams. The passenger turned in Noah’s direction, quick to return fire. A bullet whizzed by Noah’s head. It slowed him, but didn’t stop his feet. Around him, cars honked their horns while a few narrowly missed hitting him. Pausing, he fired again, but the car zoomed through a red light and almost sideswiped another car.
His heart hammered with adrenaline as he realized he had to stop running. Noah stared at the disappearing taillights in front of him with a grimace. Fucking cowards. While he tried to catch his breath, unrecognizable voices—some making calls, some expressing shock—came into his consciousness.
Drivers stood outside their cars; the sidewalk were filling up with onlookers, and all of them were looking at Noah, as well as what he was clutching for dear life. Shit. He jammed his gun under his jacket. He moved, but his feet crunched down on shards of plastic material and glass. Someone actually came after people he cared about. When he retraced his steps, Noah’s face was an impenetrable mask. Sirens blared in the background, but his concern was for Avi. He hurried his pace to get to her. She sat huddled, head down between her opened knees and shoulders slumped.
She shook like a leaf, flinching away when he reached out to her.
“Avi, it’s me.”
That seemed to do the trick. She raised her head. Her face was scrunched and her cheeks wet. Her lips trembled. This time when he pulled her close, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“Stacey,” Ro yelled from behind them.
Noah and Avi’s heads turned in unison when Ro lifted from his wife’s body, hand blotted with blood.
“So tell me again where you were?”
“I told you I didn’t see anything.”
“Good thing I didn’t ask what you saw. I asked where you were.”
Avi folded her hands on the table. With a huff, she began again. “My back was to the street. All I can tell you is how it felt hitting the cold cement and hearing my friend scream his wife’s name.” She was purposefully being cheeky, but he was getting on her nerves.
They’d been going around in circles for what seemed like forever. He was on a hunt for specifics, which Avi couldn’t provide, because she didn’t see anything. She was frustrated. And if his pinched features and squinted eyes were an indication, so was the detective who sat across from her.
“What about a car color? A hand sticking out the window? Something to corroborate what your criminal boyfriend told us at the crime scene,” Detective Giampa asked.
She frowned at his tone and the word: criminal. It brought back to mind when she’d heard it shouted from the crowd at Harry’s funeral.
“Are you going to answer my question?” Frank spat out.
She blinked, coming out of her head. “I don’t know anything about anyone being a criminal. What I do know is that I didn’t see anything. I didn’t see a hand or a car color.” She jabbed a finger into the table. “I was too busy trying to stay alive.”
Giampa’s bushy, salt and pepper eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. You’re the daughter of a dirty cop—”
Under the table, her leg shook. “Wh-what?” she asked after clearing her throat.
But he spoke over her as if Avi never interrupted him. “...and the girlfriend of a notorious drug dealer. You must be like both of them.”
At his convicting tone, Avi stiffened. The insult smacked her consciousness, leaving her mute. She bristled, turning her face from him. Dirty cop? Notorious drug dealer?
Lies. Avi was certain of it.
The snide terms rolled off the detective’s tongue just like a guilty verdict.
What could have happened in the six days since she’d last seen him at Harry’s funeral? Then, he had been kind and empathetic. But now, his scowl seemed a permanent fixture on his face the longer she was in his presence.
A knock on the door put an end to his interrogation.
Frank pushed his chair backward, stood, and stomped over to the closed door. He swung it open with as much violence as he’d like to unleash on Avi and her story, or so it seemed to her. The opened door revealed the man she kept meeting inside the police station.
“Ms. Linton, let’s go.” Robert Plummer moved from behind Detective Giampa to stand by his side.
“Yeah, you’re free to go with the crooked lawyer hired by the city’s biggest drug dealing slimeball.” He stood by the door.
Plummer turned around, facing him. “Watch it, or you could be facing slander charges instead of trying to help our glorious city rid itself of the real person or persons responsible for what happened, Detective Giampa.” He spun back to Avi. “Please, miss, I have a car waiting for you.”
Having little choice, Avi silently took the man’s invitation, walking past Giampa.
An outstretched hand stopped her departure.
She looked down to where his hand rested on her forearm, and then back up at the man’s face. Remorse flickered in his eyes.
“Look. I’m sorry if I’m coming across as a dick—pardon my language—but this shi-stuff with Harry...”
“You mean my father.” The word felt heavy on her tongue, but was right. She wouldn’t have his name dirtied. “He was a good man.” He saved a dying boy’s life.
Giampa’s face hardened.
There’s the douchebag who’s been questioning me.
“Nobody expected this from Manning.” He blew out a harsh breath. “I was his partner for two years.” Giampa came closer to Avi and lowered his voice. “But your supposedly upstanding boyfriend...” he trailed off, sarcasm bleeding from his words.
Avi shook her head and narrowed her eyes.
Releasing Avianna from his hold, Giampa pushed a large envelope into her hand. “You’re a smart girl. You’re a school teacher and all. I see you don’t believe me. I don’t blame you. But it’s my privilege to lock scum like Adams away for the rest of their worthless lives.”
Avi’s brows puckered and she drew in a short breath.
“Don’t take me at my word, whatever. But believe what’s here.” He tapped the gold-colored envelope against her forearm.
Her gut said to run. But run to where? To Noah? If Giampa was right about Noah, then what had she gotten herself into? But what if this detective was wrong? Is Noah still dealing drugs? That couldn’t be right. She looked into the detective’s eyes for some sort of clue, but his expression held the same smugness as when he had barged into her father’s funeral services.
“Just read it, okay? My card’s in there.”
“Fine,” Avi said, snatching the envelope and shoved it into her purse.
“Coming, Ms. Linton?” Noah’s lawyer looked curiously at her then at Giampa, who shrugged.
She rushed forward, passing by the man in the pricey suit who she’d never be able to afford. Now she wondered just how much of what the detective had shared was the truth.
“There you are.” Noah rushed up the steps to meet her. “I tried to get you out as soon as I could. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
She scoffed at Noah’s unusual question.
Why would the cops hurt her? They swore to uphold the law, not break it.
As the car eased into traffic, Noah made cryptic responses into his phone, none of which she und
erstood, so she gave up following once tiredness swept through her.
While Avi slept beside him, Noah could taste the retribution he planned on unleashing. He dialed the familiar numbers.
“I’m on my way,” Noah said.
“She’s stable and resting. Nothing you can do here. Plus, everyone just left.” There was a pause. “Do we know anything?” Ro asked.
“You take care of Stacey. I’ll handle everything else.”
Beside him, Avi shifted, mumbling in her sleep.
“Noah—”
“Now’s not a good time,” he said low into the phone.
“Sure. Sure.”
The car stopped just as Avi awoke.
“But I’m on top of it. Know that.” Noah ended the call.
“Noah?” She sounded disoriented, even though her tone was low and still sleep-drenched.
He turned to face her. Avi moved back from him, her eyebrows wrinkled; his own dark and scowling features were reflected back at him in her curious gaze.
“Is Stacey okay?”
“Everyone will live,” was all he could say.
“That’s great news,” she said quietly, clutching his hand in hers with a wide smile. Noah was noncommittal. “Are you okay?”
He repeated her question to himself before he trusted himself enough to grind out, “No.”
“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Whose fault is it?”
A hush fell over the car.
“Whose fault is it, Noah?” she repeated.
“Zach, take us home.”
His cool hand slipped from hers.
As soon as they entered the condo, Noah headed for his office without a backward glance at Avi, while she lingered in the foyer, questioning what was going on.
To give herself something to do while she waited for Noah, she hung out in the kitchen. Her bag sat in the middle of the countertop with the top of the envelope peeking out. Should she look at what the detective had given to her? She filled her empty glass with water from the refrigerator then debated what to do. How lightly should I tread? Noah had just witnessed his friend getting shot.
But as the hours dragged on, one of her legs bounced with impatience and her curiosity got the better of her. She pulled the envelope from her bag. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous all of a sudden. To her ears, loosening the fasteners and whisking out the papers made noises that could rival a thunderstorm.
With each word she read, her eyes widened and fear seized her. She was no longer fidgety; she squinted at every paragraph, sometimes rereading slowly, just so she understood what was being conveyed. By the last word on the last page, she knew she needed answers, and right away. She stumbled from the chair, her legs weak from shock, but broke her fall by holding onto Noah’s marble kitchen island.
Her sight snagged on the luxury around her. How exactly was he able to afford all of this? Standing, she frowned. Nothing was adding up.
“Make it happen,” Noah said.
His voice pulled Avi’s attention to his imposing shadow. She cleared her throat in case the low light in his kitchen completely hid her from his view.
When he raised his head, she almost believed he was relieved to see her, but then he became immersed in his conversation again. He turned back around, his footsteps reverberating down the corridor toward his office.
Avi was hot on his heels with the envelope that was stacked with questions she and various law enforcement agencies had about Noah and Harry.
As if he knew she’d follow him, Noah had left his office door open. By the time she entered fully, he was facing the window. “Now is not a good time, Avi.”
She threw everything in her hands on his desk.
He heard the thunk sound behind him.
Light from the full moon cast a glow into the office. He wondered if the superstitions about full moons inducing madness were true. He felt on the verge of it; it crawled over his skin and whispered violence. He was either going mad, or just mad for revenge.
“Noah?”
He turned around.
Avi stood in front of his desk, arms akimbo, stare steady, and hair wild, as if she’d been dragging her fingers through the strands too harshly. Her chest heaved. She was a beauty, even in her anger.
The envelope’s bright color stood out like a sore thumb on his sparse cherry wood desk.
“Yes?” he said, approaching his desk.
He still had a million things to do, and not enough time to do everything.
Her lips pursed. Maybe she heard the harshness in his tone, but he couldn’t worry about her tender feelings. Outside the club, he hadn’t allowed himself to feel anything, but as soon as he saw Avi in his kitchen, he realized that had the shooter aimed differently, Avi would be in the hospital or worse. It was that concern...hell, it was more like fear that had him spin around as soon as he saw her. He was about to break, and couldn’t let her see him as anything but a man with strength.
“We need to talk.”
He was pulled from his musings by her sharp voice, but now wasn’t the time to show weakness. “Like I said, this isn’t a good time.” Noah stood rigid. He had no patience to deal with whatever was brewing in her mind.
“Well, make time. I’m here about that.” She glanced down at the envelope.
“What is it?”
“Open it.”
The packet was thick. She took a seat. He slid the envelope toward himself. From the papers sticking out, he read words like: under investigation and alleged criminal activities. He leaned forward, flipping the light switch on the desk lamp, and then perched his hip on the desk. Each page had condemning charges against him and Harry.
It was at least another thirty minutes before he spoke up again. “Who gave this to you?”
She sat back while he meticulously compiled the papers then pushed them to the side. Butterflies floated in her lower stomach; she was queasy and had cotton-mouth.
“Is it true?”
“Who gave this to you?” he asked again.
“Is it true, Noah?” she hissed.
“Would it matter?”
She stood, too anxious to remain in one spot. Would it matter? She couldn’t believe he could ask her that. “Of course it matters. It matters if my father is...was a dirty cop. Of course it matters if my boyf—I mean, if you’re a damn criminal, Noah. Am I sleeping with a man who...” She couldn’t call him all those things the reports claimed he did.
She paced back and forth. His lackadaisical attitude over the charges in the documents about his lawlessness stalled her movements.
Who the hell is Noah Adams?
She worried her lower lip, and to give herself something to do, she resumed her pacing while her heart hammered away.
He returned to his position, facing the window.
“Noah, you have to tell me something here. Please.” Avi despised the desperation creeping into her tone, but there was no help for it. Her heart and her life were at stake.
“What’s there to tell? If what you’ve read and seen inside the envelope weighs more than everything I’ve told you about myself and your father, then...”
“Then what?” She threw her hands up in the air. “This isn’t a game. You’re standing over there looking as if I’m keeping you from something more important.”
“As a matter of fact, you are.” He spun around.
Her gasp was expected; the papers he’d just piled together that sailed past his head and floated in the air weren’t.
He cocked a brow at hellion Avi. “You want honesty, right?”
She looked at him as if he had two heads.
“Here’s the truth. I’ve got shit to do, more important than entertaining this fucking line of bullshit questioning, but I’m not doing any of what needs to get done. I’m here. With you. Answering bullshit.” He huffed, jamming his hands in his pockets.
She wobbled back as if he’d hit her.
“Are
those things about my father true?”
“You’ve got to be kidding. What part of the man I told you about hinted he was a bad apple? NYPD has far more people they need to look at, rather than waste taxpayers’ dollars on foolishness.”
Her skepticism was evident in her raised eyebrow. “I-is it true about you?”
He tapped on a stray paper. “This piece of shit barely scratches the surface.”
Noah’s laugh was without mirth. This was her time to make a choice. He’d barged his way into her life and her bed. He’d chiseled through her icy reserve and gotten her to talk about her mother. But now, she’d make her own choice.
He flicked the papers away from him.
“Are you saying—”
“You’re a smart woman.” He glanced at his vibrating cell. “Are we done here?”
His double entendre rang out in the room.
She gasped at his admission.
The pit of her stomach nagged her with the questions she’s always had about him and his friends. The air of respect that swirled around them wherever they went. The undercurrent of fear she sensed when Zach and others were in Noah’s presence.
A part of Avi’s brain wanted to give Noah an out, and so she did. “Bu-but you’re legit now, right? Your company, Accipiere, it’s an import and export company.”
At his silence, she spun toward the open door within her reach. All she’d have to do was walk away from the man who made her laugh, infuriated her no end, and pleasured her body like no other.
“I won’t beg you to stay, Avi. But that doesn’t mean I want you to leave either.”
The phone continued to rattle on top of his desk, further lending to the confusion whipping around her.
“My friend is in the hospital. Stacey could’ve lost her baby and her life. I don’t take threats kindly, not to the people I care about. I need to leave, Avi.”
Leave? To do what? Witness intimidation, murder, money laundering, gun ring leader...These were just some of the things she wished she could un-see.
Avi swallowed, blinking rapidly. Death, blood, gore...those were things the report claimed he was synonymous with. She saw prison, life sentences, and heart break.