ME: Then how? Your way?
Noah: What’s my way?
ME: In flames…
Noah: Always. Like a dragon.
Present
“So, this is the game you’ve decided to play, huh?”
I’m not surprised at all when I look up and see Noah leaning on the door jamb, dressed in custom made charcoal black suit pants paired with a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show his tattooed sexy forearms that are currently folded as he watches me with a dark gaze that makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand up.
Actually, every inch of me stands up and takes notice of him. He looks so primal, so virile and so damn gorgeous… and he’s seriously pissed off.
“I’m afraid this is one of the times where I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say coldly, glancing down at the folders before me, trying to make sense of it all, but I can feel him move, stalking toward me like a sleek, hungry predator.
I hate that I have a sixth sense totally devoted to this guy.
I hate how I notice everything about him, including the fact that he seems… different since last night.
Before I know it, he’s right behind me. My breath catches when I feel the extra weight on my chair as if he’s leaning down on it.
“What do you want, Noah?”
“Did you order those men to take out all my fucking furniture?” he growls.
“I don’t—”
He swings my chair around so fast, papers go flying everywhere but I hardly notice them because now, I’m staring into molten lava hazel eyes that have something wicked in store for me if I don’t watch my words.
Noah leans in, his beautiful face right in front of me as he stares into my eyes.
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Kimmy,” he purrs darkly, the words heightened by the way he’s caging me in. “I know it was you.”
“It was your mother actually,” I breathe. “Somehow, she discovered how rude and disrespectful your ‘redecoration’ was, specifically to the time and effort she put in doing it for you.”
I give him my best fuck you smile, but with Noah, I should know better than to treat him like a regular commoner who takes offense at bare minimum insults.
He doesn’t bite the bait like normal people would. Instead, he lures you into your own bait and watches, satisfied as ever, as you bleed to death by your own hand.
“So that’s how you did it?” he says with a soft but dark note in his voice that makes goose bumps grace my arms… and my nipples harden.
“Did what?”
“Turned my mother to your cause.”
We stare at each other, the tension and emotions between us skyrocketing and we both know it.
It’s crazy how you can go from never knowing a person, to craving them after just one 3 a.m. stalk-fest, and then go back to being strangers.
But we’re not just strangers, not anymore and especially not after everything we’ve both witnessed in this town.
We’re strangers with each other’s full life stories.
We know each other’s deepest valleys, the somewhat high peaks we found only with each other, and we’re the kind of strangers that know each other’s dirty, ugly secrets that no one knows about, but us.
“You think that’s my cause in life?”
“I think you’re a two-faced liar who’ll do anything to make a quick dollar.”
“And so what if I am?” I snap.
“See, you might be trying your best to ignore the fact that you’re in my home, working for my fucking company, but I know you’ll never forget that now… now everything you do will either be a mark or a strike against you.” I frown, feeling like I’m missing something. “Aw, will you look at that confused little frown on your deceptively stony face. She didn’t tell you, huh?”
“Tell me what?” I demand.
He pulls back then, a wicked smirk on his face but his eyes… they remain flat and unsmiling.
“My mother and I made a bet about you,” he says with a smirk.
“What?”
“You know, you really should update your vocabulary. I’m growing tired of listening to you express your curiously pathetic confusion to things that are pretty plain and right in front of you.”
Asshole!
He steps away, then walks around to the other side of the desk, but I’m up and out of my seat.
“What bet?” I bite out, feeling like I’m at a severe disadvantage.
“Well, my mother knows I don’t want you here and frankly, she was all too willing to put down a wager.”
“On what grounds?”
“On the basis of you doing your fucking job,” he says sarcastically. “If you don’t do your job efficiently, if you make a single mistake or a fucking minute error—and just so we’re clear, being late to appointments or to your job is part of that—then you’re fucking out, Kimmy.”
A harsh breath escapes my lips. I clench my fists so tight like I’m going to punch him. He notices all of this of course and that’s when he smiles.
“So that’s why you did it?” I demand, the realization hitting like a freight train headed to hell. “You made that bet with your mother right after I left, and to make sure you get ahead, you slashed my fucking tires to delay me to get to work this morning?”
“Your tires were slashed?” he gasps dramatically, as if to mock my own intelligence all while reaching for his neck as if he’s clutching at invisible pearls. He leans in slowly, looking down at me with a hooded, smoky gaze. “Oh dear, are you all right? Did you report this atrocious crime against the great and mighty Kingdom of Allory to the police? The defenders of the innocent?”
THE. NERVE. OF. THIS. JERK!
“Don’t tell me you didn’t go to the police,” he taunts.
“Fuck you!” I seethe. Hurt blooms in my chest as his words sink into me.
“Oh, you’ll be doing that soon,” he whispers hotly.
“Hurting me with shit that happened in my life, Noah? That’s an all-time low for you.” I look away, hating the way my throat is working and squeezing as if I’m about to… start crying. “I didn’t think you’d be petty enough to throw my past back in my face like that.”
See, I once told Noah all about Big Earl and how I ended up in juvie. What I never told him is what happened when I got out, and judging by what he just said, I made a fucking mistake opening up to him.
Cruel regrets…
Have you ever had a sense in your soul that you’re playing with fire and should back off? Yeah, that’s what I feel right now, but I’ve never been one to back away. I love fire just as much as I know this guy does, who so happens to love starting raging infernos.
“Yes,” he whispers from across the table. “I thought that might make you feel a fragment of the betrayal your beautiful face reminds me of whenever I look at you.”
Oh God. He knows just how to make me bleed.
“Why are you doing this?” I whisper. How is it that he makes me feel like I lost something so rare and so significant that I never had to begin with?
“I don’t want you here,” he counters seriously, the smile he just had bleeding away like he’s a psychopath. “I want you out of my life and if I have my way, you’ll be out of everyone’s life.”
“No…”
He wants me out of my friends’ lives. Away from Astraea, Ivy and everyone that accepted me back.
“Oh, yes. I might already have support from King.” Urgh, of course he does. “And well, I’d sooner accept George back into the fold than have a double agent who’ll one day flip on us again and again to serve her own purposes.”
There are times when I think Noah’s hate for me is a bit too much for no reason. But now as I look at him, I can see what this is all about.
His deep-seated issues that he’s never dealt with. Issues that I actually understand, and so back when we were… well, whatever we were, I vowed I’d never do what everyone he’s ever loved has done to him.
I�
�d never abandon him.
Not ever.
Right now he wants to push me away first, as if he’s expecting me to just leave him. Well tough shit, asshole. I’ve only made two vows in my life. One was to protect and give my sisters a full life that they’ll thrive in and never lack a damn thing and the other, I’d never abandon Noah.
We might never go back to the ease and incredibly explosive relationship we had before, but even now as we stare at each other in hate and disdain, I can feel the crackle of electricity in the charged space between us.
The sexual attraction we have has always been catastrophic from day freaking one. But now, it feels like it’ll be the death of us.
But even with all that, I look him in the eyes and say the only words that will no doubt piss him off even more.
“Well, sadly for you, Blue Fairy, I’m not going anywhere.”
His nostrils flare and his eyes narrow on me.
With as much audacity as I can manage, I move, rounding the desk and don’t stop until I’m right in front of him. His chest is heaving up and down slowly, as if he’s trying his hardest to stay in control.
“I’m staying right here,” I whisper, holding his gaze as I look up at him. “You’ll just have to get over seeing my face at some point.”
Suddenly he grabs the side of my face with his palm. His touch is a bit rough, but it awakens something dark and sinister in me.
“If there was a way to forget this face, to forget these fucking stormy grey eyes that feature in my nightmares, then fucking trust and believe I’d have found that way by now.”
Another deep cut. My throat works again. I can’t help but ask.
“Do you hate me that much?” I whisper, looking into his tortured gaze. “Do you hate my face so much that you want to erase everything we ever had?”
For a moment, just a small fraction of a moment, I think he’s going to tell me no. I want him to tell me that he feels what I feel for him and that we’ll get over this, but instead, his guard comes up in an instant.
His eyes harden. He lets my face go and steps away like I just burned him.
“You have no idea how much I hate you,” he grits out. “But you’ll soon find out.”
Dread pools in the pit of my stomach. Noah might be many things, but I know for a fact that he keeps his word, which is why I stupidly make a decision on a whim—which is something I never do.
“You know what, I think I’d like to make a bet of my own with you,” I start, my heart starts pounding like never before.
Noah cocks his head slightly to the left, studying me. “You’d bet against me?”
“If I win that little wager you have with your mother, then I’ll not only prove you wrong and you have to apologize but…” I trail off.
“I want you to forgive me.”
He straightens so fast, I blink, confused.
Noah has a predator like quality about him. His movements are silent, quick and precise. I know that but in the time we’ve been apart, he’s changed so much, I can’t help but notice how he’s buffed up and looks a bit rougher… and darker.
“You want me to forgive you, huh?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t do forgiveness.”
My breath catches, and I can feel the resistance to my bet coming but I can’t go the rest of my life knowing this is how we’re always going to be. It sucks because soon, there’ll be a new addition to the family which I desperately want to be part of.
“And if I win?” he asks me.
A violent chill races down my spine at that question because I know what it means. He once told me before.
If you make a bet against someone and they ask you what will happen if they win, then it’s highly possible that they have the upper hand.
“You don’t have the upper hand here,” I whisper.
Noah moves then, stalking over to me like a man who knows he has the entire world in his pocket and me on my knees in front of him.
“What happens if I win, Kimberly?” he repeats, his voice deep, low and so damn sexy. “Tell me.”
Jesus. I can’t believe I’m so turned on by this, by him.
“I’ll do anything you want!” I blurt out and immediately regret it.
The carnal sex god smiles darkly. I can see he’s determined to win this and fuck me if it isn’t the hottest thing. My awareness of him is physically painful sometimes.
“Think carefully about what you’re putting on the table, Kim Possible,” he says seriously, the brazen lust in his eyes pretty fucking loud.
“I don’t need to think. I mean it.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Then understand me right fucking now. There’ll be no fucking do overs. No second chances and there are no outs!” he states, each word emphasized and drenched in gasoline, just waiting for the flames of our mutual destruction to light it up. “If you fucking agree to do this and if I win, don’t expect me to be… nice.”
I believe him. It’s right there in his molten gaze.
“You’ve never been nice,” I whisper.
“But then I’ve never been this worse off and fucking damaged, have I?” he fires right back, holding my gaze. “I guess we have you to thank for this new me.”
In this moment, it’s as if I have no sense of self-preservation as I nod, agreeing to God only knows what.
And just like that, it’s done.
“You’re very competitive, Kim Possible, but since this will definitely break you, I’ll offer you this… if at any time you can’t keep going or you can’t fucking keep up, then you can tap the fuck out.”
“Why are you offering this?” I ask, trying to keep my voice and raging heartbeat steady.
“Because when you do, when you tap out, Kimmy, then that will be it.” I gasp, seeing exactly where he’s going with this. “When you quit, you’ll take your fucking shit and leave this town, this state, my fucking family and you’ll leave!”
Every word is painful, but I’m determined to win. I have to win. I need this… resentment and hate from the one person I can’t get over to stop.
“I don’t need your offer.”
“I’ll keep it there for you… you know, just in case.”
Urgh! Noah has this force of will that sucks everything around him until it all bends to his liking. I wasn’t immune, but I fought it tooth and nail each time. If anything, I wanted a mutual exchange of power because like this moment, he has so much power over me. In more ways than just the fact that I work for him.
We used to have a great push-pull thing until I went and fucked it up by not coming clean before everything blew up in our faces.
“So, bet?” I demand, pretending to be impatient when in fact, I think I’m going to freak out.
“Bet,” he agrees. “This might just be your biggest fucking mistake.”
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” I say, my voice low and level. “Give it your best shot, Blue Fairy.”
He smiles then, but it’s so damn cold, cutting and lethal.
“Your wish, Kimmy, is my fucking command. You’ll be cursing and moaning my name soon,” he purrs darkly. “Oh, and make sure my stuff is returned to my wing as soon as fucking possible.”
“Is that part of the bet?”
“Part of your fucking job that you’ll be out of soon!”
And then he’s gone, leaving me feeling oddly bereft, shaken in the best way and aware that I never confronted him about the dead cats left on the hood of my car. And the box with his little present is still under the desk.
Guess I have to switch to a more incendiary plan.
I quickly grab the box I brought in and rush toward the only wing of the mansion where Christina said she left unlocked. This place is huge and has more bedrooms than a fucking Ritz-Carlton, but I don’t have time to stop and check.
I try all the doors until I find the only bedroom that’s open. I know this isn’t Noah’s room but it’s beautifully, tastefully decor
ated with a large king sized bed in the middle of the room.
I don’t have much time to check the rest of the room, instead, I head for the bed then remove the duvet, open the box and gently dump the contents of the box onto the bed, satisfied when the contents start cooperating without me having to touching them.
Good.
I quickly put the duvet back as best as I can, then I re-arrange the huge pillows and the smaller ones to mimic the way I found them.
“Hope you have a good fucking night’s rest, asshole.”
Chapter 22
NOAH
Past
ME: It’s 3 a.m.
Kim Possible: Aren’t you in New York?
ME: I’m here.
Kim Possible: Where?
ME: Outside your fucking house.
Kim Possible: Noah…
ME: If you want me to go then fucking say that. If you want to see me like I need to see you, then fucking come out.
Kim Possible: Where are we going?
ME: Does it fucking matter?
Kim Possible: Give me a minute.
Present
After hours of trying to figure out what’s going on with the letters the boys and I all received while at the Brook House with George and Emmett while King supervised via video call like the crap royal he is, I stagger back home tired and exhausted.
I can’t get over that shitty note and the picture that turned my stomach. What the fuck does it even mean?
Why send it to all of us?
Why include the girls—including Kim’s little sisters? And then that cryptic shit:
“One by one, I’m coming for you
Give Daddy Monty what he wants on the day;
or it’ll be the death of three, or all, on you.”
There were six in the picture, who are the three? Is it three Blue Boys? Is that it?
Fuck!
Exhausted, I make my way to my room only to come to a fucking halt when I remember the lack of furniture on my side of the house.
“Fucking Kim Possible.”
I clutch the neck of the bottle I’m holding with a tight grip as I make my way to the guest wing—as if we ever have guests in this damn mansion.
Petty Rage: Westbrook Blues Book 4 Page 26