22. Noah
Noah
T he sweet smell of waffles wakes me up, and I follow my growling stomach into the kitchen where Del is making breakfast.
I come up behind him, wrap my arms around his waist, and kiss between his shoulder blades. He stiffens for a second, his killer instincts kicking in until he realizes it’s just me.
My stomach twists in the best way at how domesticated this feels right now.
I’d never imagined myself wanting this type of life. A normal one where I wake up happy and in love with a man who spoils me with waffles and fantastic sex.
Love?
It’s a strange word. One I’ve never experienced with someone. It’s the only word that makes sense to describe the way I feel when I’m around Del.
He makes me feel safe. He makes me feel wanted. He makes me feel whole. I’ve spent my entire life wondering if I’d find someone who could handle my trauma. Who isn’t scared away by my violent side. Who doesn’t mind that I’m a kaleidoscope on the inside and out.
My rainbow bright.
Pet names used to piss me off. They always seemed so impersonal. Never clever or unique. Del managed to put meaning behind each one.
Except maybe sweetheart. I don’t know why he likes calling me that one.
“Merry Christmas, Puppet,” I say and release him. I ignore how rough my voice sounds. My throat is sore from how roughly Del fucked it last night.
My pussy also aches.
I’ll gladly suffer these pleasurable pains night after night.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Del says with a grin the moment he spots me. “Don’t you look… well fucked.”
I didn’t care to fix my red and green hair standing up all over my head. I’m also covered in bite marks and hickeys, which I’ll have to cover with makeup when we go to my father’s.
I flip off Del for both pointing that out and for calling me sweetheart and take a seat at the table. He brings over a plate with my waffle and a mug of coffee—made with a shot of creamer and a packet of sugar, just how I like it.
We enjoy breakfast in silence because neither of us are fans of small talk in the morning. Not until we’re both full of caffeine.
Once our food is gone and coffee drank, we grab each other’s gifts from their hiding spots and head to the living room. I sit on the couch, tucking my leg underneath me.
“Mine first.” I hand him a large manilla envelope.
He opens it and peeks inside.
“Noah,” he whispers, taking out a stack of papers. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“It’s for your new piano,” I say as he shuffles through the sheet music. He pauses and glances up at me, his eyes glazed with unshed tears.
“You got me a piano?”
“Not just any piano,” I begin and open my phone to show him the pictures. “Your mother’s.”
He takes my phone and swipes through the photos.
“You told me your father sold it after your mother passed.”
He nods. “Elias said Percy hated seeing it because it reminded him of her.”
“I asked your brother if he knew who bought it and he didn’t, but his underboss did.
He was the one who took care of the sale for your father.
So, I called the piano store it was sold to, and they got rid of it years ago, but the piano store owner is a hoarder and kept a record of every purchase made, including contact info.
I called the number on the receipt and a woman answered.
She said she’d bought the piano for her daughter who grew up and no longer plays it. ”
Del barely lets me finish before I’m in his arms and he’s hugging me. We’ve come such a long way since the gun range. I think this is the first hug he’s initiated.
“We pick it up tomorrow.”
When he releases me, he picks up the wrapped box he set on the floor and hands it to me. There’s a card on the top. When I open it, Christmas music starts playing. I giggle at the thought of Del perusing the card aisle for this.
Inside are two pieces of folded up paper. I close the card and set it aside... but the music doesn’t stop playing.
“What the hell?”
Del covers his mouth with his palm, hiding his amusement.
“How do I get it to stop?”
Now Del is giggling like a child up to no good.
“Delancy William Carter! Did you buy me a prank card?”
That did it. He loses control and falls back onto the couch with laughter.
I stand up and stomp to the window, opening it to toss the card outside.
“Hey!” Del protests. “Rude!”
I ignore him—even though my face hurts from smiling at his stupid prank—and pick up the first folded paper.
“What is this?” I ask, confused because all it has is a poorly drawn plane, two stick figures, that I believe are me and Del, holding suitcases. “Did you draw this?”
He nods and smiles ear to ear.
“What does it mean, though?”
“A vacation. You and me. Whenever and wherever you want to go.”
“Really?”
“You travel a lot, right?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“The photos inside your apartment. You had a lot in front of international landmarks. Were you traveling for pleasure or Colpa Sicario business?”
“Both. Some hit jobs needed me to travel. My favorite one was in a small town just outside of Florence, Italy. My target was a woman who was stealing money from organizations that help people in need. She had a laundry list of shitty things she’d done.
After killing her, I had time before my flight back to the states to play tourist. I took so many photos.
I’m sad I don’t have them anymore. They were all in the apartment that blew up. ”
I never got a chance to go back and try to salvage my belongings following the explosion. Del got some of my things, but me going myself was too risky. We worried about the person who was trying to kill me scoping out the place to see if I'd return so they could finish the job.
We still haven’t figured out who wants me dead. But whoever it is hasn’t tried again. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.
“Now this one,” Del says and hands me the other folded up paper.
This one is also hand drawn by Del. It’s him and me in the kitchen, wearing chef’s hats and aprons.
“Is this you making me a meal?”
He shakes his head. “This is you and me cooking together.”
Then it sinks in. He wants to teach me how to cook like my mother once did. He remembered I’d told him that.
“You said how much you love baking and cooking. I’m decent at it. I thought I could show you a few things.”
I place my palm on his cheek, and he turns his head to kiss it.
“I love it.”
“Good, no refunds allowed.”
I pick up the box next, shaking it. The heavy contents inside rattle against the sides.
“So what’s in this?”
“Open it and find out.”
I tear into the paper and rip off the tape. Inside is a single photo placed on top of red and green tissue paper.
“Puppet,” I whisper. It's a picture of me at the leaning tower of Pisa doing the iconic pose trying to hold it up. “Where did you get this?”
“I stole it from your apartment.”
I slap him playfully. “I knew something was off with my bookcase!”
He laughs, and I cherish the sound. He’s laughed more today than any of our previous times together.
“Keep going. There’s more.”
I remove the tissue paper and find one of my romance books and my bullet vibrator.
“Seriously?”
He shrugs. “I thought about taking all your toys. I know how reliant on them you were after bringing home your one-night stands.”
Yeah, because of you, I add silently. He was the reason I couldn’t get off because all I wanted to do was fuck him.
“Keep going.”
“There’s more?”
He nods, and I remove the last piece of tissue paper. Underneath are more photos.
My photos.
The rest from my bookcase and the small photo albums I kept in a laundry basket.
I’m crying as I pick up a framed photo of me and my mother on my eleventh birthday. The last birthday I spent with her.
“How?” I ask, my voice full of tears.
“I salvaged whatever I could. The photos were likely saved because they were on the ground underneath a metal door or other debris. Some of the edges might be burnt though.”
He pushes aside some of the photos and reveals a black box.
I gasp. “My mom’s necklace?”
It’s a simple gold cross. I’m not religious, but I kept the necklace after she died. I wanted to have something she always wore close to her heart. I thought I’d never see this again.
“Oh, Delancy,” I sob and now it’s my turn to hug him.
But this time, the hug turns into kisses, which turns into both of us naked and we’re making love—and using my bullet vibrator—on the living room floor.
There’s no way I wasn’t going to thoroughly thank him for the best gift I’ve ever received.
D el is nervous, and it’s adorable. A little sexy too.
He’s also sweating, and he keeps rubbing his palms on his jeans.
“He’s not going to hurt you this time,” I say and place my hand over his knuckles.
“Two times, Vixen.”
“It’s Christmas. My father won’t be violent on a holy day.”
At least, I hope not.
My father is extremely religious. I believe he still goes to church every Sunday. Sometimes he’ll attend mass other days of the week.
I just find it strange to be a criminal who murders one day, then asks for penance the next. I don’t think it works like that, Babbo. At least not with serious crimes like murder.
We pull up to the Lower East Side townhouse, and I get out first. My father’s new head of security nods as Del and I walk up the steps. He’s the guard whose name I couldn’t remember the night of the Christmas party.
Matthew Dalton is younger than Vershy. Probably thirty-five or forty. He’s one of my father’s top soldiers and he was Vershun’s right-hand man, so it makes sense that he’d get the role.
“Miss Lenetti,” he says, and I cringe.
“Please, call me Noah.”
I suppose I’m going to have to get used to that name now that I outed myself at my father’s Christmas party.
Matthew smiles and looks me up and down with his dark blue eyes. He seems to like what he sees even though I’m wearing a Santa hat, leggings, and an ugly sweater that says ‘Jingle My Bells’ with Santa bent over showing off his ‘balls.’
Del tightens his hold on my hand and makes a noise that might have been a growl. Awe… my jealous puppet. Matthew’s eyes move to him and scan over his body the same way he did mine.
Matthew just let me know he’s into both of us, which gives me an idea.
Instead of me pegging Del, would he let me watch while Matt topped him?
Nah. I still want to peg Del.
“What,” Del begins, “no pat down?”
Matthew quirks a perfect brow. “If that’s what you’re into, I’ll pat down whatever you’d like.”
Del chokes on his words, and I tug on his arm to walk us inside.
“Rain check, Matty.”
“What the fuck was that about?” Del asks as we head down the hallway.
“I think he likes you.”
“No, he was checking you out . ”
“Maybe he’s into both of us?”
Before Del can respond to that, we’ve arrived in the sitting room. Elias is already here, sipping on a glass of whiskey.
“Finally,” he sighs and peers around us. “Where’s Sage?”
I walk straight to the booze cart and make myself a vodka soda because I’m already stressed about dinner.
“It’s Christmas, Elly,” I say. “She’s with her family.”
“She’s not coming?” His blue eyes widen as big as a puppy dog’s. The poor lovesick man.
“She told us she wasn’t coming. She didn’t tell you?” Del asks, preparing to taunt his brother. “Wait, are you not in the group chat? Weird.”
Elias tosses his empty glass at Del’s head and hits him just underneath his eye. I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me.
“You fucking dick!” Del grabs a metal fire poker next to the fireplace and juts it at his brother like he’s a sword fighter.
The tip nicks Elias in the arm and he stands, managing to pry the poker out of Del’s grip. Then hits him over the head with it.
Great, now Del’s bleeding, and he’s going to have a nasty bruise under his eye from the whiskey glass.
I sit my ass on a chair out of the way, sipping on my booze while watching the immature children fight.
Elias is twice Del’s size, so I’d put my money on him.
He currently has his little brother in a headlock while Del punches his jiggly gut.
Elias is unfazed and tightens his arm around Del’s neck.
My puppet’s face turns deep red and just before I think he’s going to pass out, he claws at Elias’s arms, drawing blood.
Elias lets go and Del bends over, hands on his knees to catch his breath. Elias takes advantage and kicks him, sending Del to the floor.
I clap at the move, and Del gives me a scowl for cheering on his brother.
“You’re not going to win, Lance. It’s like when we were kids. I’m bigger and stronger than you. And I don’t lose.”
Del charges at his brother like a bull seeing red and bends over just before crashing into Elias’s midsection. The two go flying into a table with a stack of books and magazines on top. The wood crumbles underneath their combined weight.
Elias quickly jumps on top of Del and starts punching, but Del isn’t giving up. He grabs a splintered piece of wood and smacks Elias over the side of his head. The big man falls to the ground onto his back and the two lie there, huffing and puffing, out of breath.
Del manages to punch his brother one more time before one of my father’s staff appears at the entrance to the room.
“Um…” she begins, her eyes wide. “Dinner is served.”
“Thank you, Natalia. Can you have someone…” I wave my finger at the mess.
“Of course,” she says and turns on her heel.
I walk over to the two men lying on top of all the debris caused by their fight and cross my arms.
“Dumbasses.”
“He started it,” Del says.
“And I ended it,” Elias adds.
“You both lost,” I say and hold out my hand to Del. “Dinner’s ready. Help your brother, then you two go clean up.”
“You could have stopped us, you know,” Del growls.
I shrug. “True. But watching you two fight was fun... and sexy.”
I turn and walk away, hearing a grunt behind me. I don’t know which one it was from, but someone sure got in the last punch.