25. Delancy
Delancy
I t’s been four days and Noah is still in a coma. I tried to take her to a hospital, but Gio didn’t want to deal with paperwork and police. He already had to send a clean-up crew to the Lords Mansion.
Finn is dead and most of his soldiers were killed in the shootout as well. Thankfully, fellow QBM and Empire members were on standby outside. We anticipated this would turn into a bloodbath. We just didn’t realize it would happen so fast. It’s almost as if someone tipped Finn off.
I suspect Matthew. He disappeared during the shootout, nowhere to be found when we emerged from the mansion.
Or maybe it was Gio. He refused to be a part of this plan. Did he have an ulterior motive? Is that why he told Noah to send me and Elias in? So we could be killed, and he could claim control of the QBM? Noah had mentioned she was suspicious of how quickly her father agreed to this plan.
After Elias and I carried Noah out to an SUV in the parking lot and told one of our guys to call her father, we went back inside, and I let my rage fuel the rest of the massacre.
Elias walked away with two bullet holes: one in his thigh and the other in his shoulder.
I got shot in the arm and one of the Lords soldiers managed to slice me on my neck, thankfully not too deep.
I was so proud of my lovely rainbow bright for killing Finn, shooting him in the head when he refused to answer her questions. Though, we probably should have kept him alive to torture him.
How did he know Noah and I were contract killers? He hired us to kill his son, but why did he want his son dead? And does this mean he’s also the one responsible for blowing up Noah’s apartment?
Maybe we were wrong about the Christmas Eve murders. What if it wasn’t Gio but Finn instead?
I wouldn’t think he’d set his own home on fire with his wife and children inside, but after finding out Finn ordered his own son’s death, nothing’s off the table.
Gio set up a room inside his Lower East Side townhouse for Noah’s recovery with all the medical equipment needed to keep her alive.
He has a doctor on staff who put her in a medically induced coma to help her injuries heal faster, especially since she was minutes from death by the time she arrived here from Staten Island.
Since last night, the doctor has been reducing the medication that’s keeping her under and said she should wake today. They also removed the tube down her throat. Now, I sit next to her bed, holding her hand, waiting.
I’ve been a wreck without her. I haven’t slept more than a few hours a night. What if she doesn’t wake up? What if I lose her? I panicked and told her I loved her, but I wasn’t sure if she heard me before she passed out from blood loss.
I meant every one of those three little words.
The doctor enters, and I stand to get out of his way.
Gio lingers at the door and gives me a nod.
He’s furious that I let her get hurt, but at least he didn’t kill me for it.
One thing’s for sure, Gio has a hit out on Matthew.
He failed to follow orders by letting Noah go inside the Lords Mansion and she nearly died because of it. Gio wants his head.
I’d be more than happy to help find him. I still don’t trust that fucker.
There’s something about him rubbing me the wrong way. I swear I’ve seen him glaring at me... and even Gio when he doesn’t think I'm looking.
“Her vitals are good,” the doc says, adjusting his wire glasses on his nose. “If she doesn’t wake up by the morning, call me.”
He leaves and a nurse comes in to change her dressings. She marks things down on a chart and hangs it on the end of the bed before quietly slipping out.
Gio returns to Noah’s side and pets her hair, then kisses her on the forehead.
“I know she’ll want your face to be the first she sees when she wakes. Please call me when you two have had your time together so I can see her, okay?”
And with that, Gio leaves.
That man shocks me every day. Has he finally accepted that this thing between me and Noah is real? It may have started out as a fake engagement, but I have no intention of letting Noah go. If she’ll have me, I’d love to make her my wife.
I doze off in the oversized armchair next to Noah’s bed. I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep before fingers combing through my hair startle me awake.
“You were having a nightmare,” she says, her voice rough and raw from not speaking these last few days.
“Vixen,” I whisper and stand to scoop her up in my arms. She hisses, and I immediately release her. “Fuck, sorry.”
Her cold palm finds my cheek, and she smiles. “The pain was worth it. You never initiate hugs.”
I try to kiss her, but she slaps her palm over my mouth.
“My breath tastes like death. I need to use the restroom and brush my teeth.”
She moves to get out of bed, but a gazillion medical wires are still attached to her.
My heart races with panic. “You shouldn’t be moving around like this. Let me call the doctor—”
“I’m fine, I promise,” she says.
I purse my lips. “Please, just stay put while we wait for the doctor to check you out.”
She searches my eyes and nods at whatever she sees in them.
“Lie down with me,” she pats the side of the bed. I fire off a text to the doctor, then get in, tucking her to my side.
“I realize I wouldn’t have gotten far because there are catheters in my ass and up my coochie,” Noah murmurs.
A laugh bursts from my throat and it’s a strange sound after not finding humor in things since she nearly died. Of course, Noah is the one to bring the light back to my darkness.
“That’s why I wanted to call the doctor, Vixen.”
She hums. “Call me that again.”
“Vixen,” I say and kiss the top of her head. Her arms are wrapped around me, and she nuzzles her nose into my armpit.
“You stink.”
I laugh again. My cheeks already hurt from smiling, and she’s only been awake for a few minutes.
“I haven’t been concerned about hygiene.”
“That’s gross.”
“Yeah? Well, you pooped and peed in bags for the past four days.”
She tilts her head back to look at me. “It was that bad?”
“Yes, sweetheart. You were stabbed, and the knife nicked your liver. You had to get emergency surgery—did you know your father has an operating room in the basement—anyway, they put you in a medically induced coma to help you heal faster.”
“Wow,” she whispers.
Should I point out that I called her sweetheart, and she didn’t yell at me?
No, I think I’ll take that as a win. She’s warming up to the nickname. I can’t decide which one I like best, because Noah is, and has never been, simple. She’s my beautiful rainbow bright, a colorful crayon, my sweet Skittles, a vivacious Vixen, my sweetheart .
I’ve never had a sweetheart.
She’s Kevin, too, but I only pull that one out when I want to rile her up.
“Were you hurt too?”
Her hand roams over my stomach and up my chest to my neck where she finds the stitched knife wound. She skims her fingertips down my arm, causing goosebumps to rise, before she traces them over the sewed-up bullet hole.
“I’ve had worse.”
She lifts my shirt, and her fingertips find my oldest scar.
The one that nearly claimed my life. She likes tracing it anytime we cuddle after sex.
It’s along the side of my stomach. My father’s doctor was surprised that all my vital organs were missed.
It’s why I didn’t die sooner. Instead, I was left to bleed out. A painful, suffocating way to go.
Noah moves her freezing hands over more scars along my stomach and chest. My abs constrict trying to escape the icy touch.
“I killed Finn.”
I smile and lift her chin with my thumb and forefinger. “Hell yeah you did.”
The doctor walks in at that moment, followed by the nurse, and I hop out of the bed.
“I’m going to clean up while he’s taking the poop chute out of you,” I say, and Noah giggles.
“Good, your stinky ass was making me gag.”
I almost make a joke about giving her something to gag about but hold back since there are other people present.
The shower was quick, and I feel one hundred percent better when I return to Noah’s room. She’s sitting up in bed, eating soup and drinking ginger ale. Her father sits in the armchair where I’ve been camped out for the past four days.
Shit, I forgot to text him.
Gio stands when he sees me. “I’ll leave you two alone. I have a meeting at the gun range.”
Once he’s gone, Noah smiles mischievously at me. “The doctor said I can take a shower.”
“Did he? I was kind of hoping I could give you a sponge bath.”
“Tempting, but a shower sounds heavenly. Will you help me?”
“Are you done eating?”
“For now.”
“Okay, I’ll help you. But it’s only going to be a shower. No messing around.”
Noah frowns. “Aww, you’re no fun.”
“I’m serious, Vixen. You’re injured. No sex until you’re healed.”
She holds up her hands. “Fine. I’ll keep it in my pants.”
Noah hisses in pain with every step she takes, and I smirk.
“Oh, shut up.”
“Recovery from surgery is no joke.”
“Am I laughing?”
“You really thought we were going to fuck in the shower, didn’t you?”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”
By the time we make it to the bathroom, Noah is sweating and panting. I help her shed the medical gown and turn on the water to the perfect warm temperature.
I carefully guide her under the stream, making sure her dressing doesn’t get too wet. The nurse said it’s waterproof but to avoid getting it soaked.
“Aren’t you going to take your clothes off?” she asks and sighs as she lets the water cascade over her body. “I’ll behave, I promise.”
Despite showering just minutes ago, I strip my shirt and pants. I leave my boxers on, so Noah doesn’t get grabby. She scowls, but I ignore her tantrum and pour shampoo into my palm to wash her hair.
It takes longer than normal to get Noah clean since I’m being careful of her injuries. After turning the shower off, I lead her out of the stall and dry her with a towel.