26. Noah
Noah
D el leaves me in shock, my heart racing.
He loves me?
I knew he was obsessed with me, but I never thought a man like Del could fall in love. He’s like me. He pushes people away because of trauma. The crushing pain of losing a loved one never seems to go away. It’s why I’ve never been in a relationship. It’s why I tend not to have friends.
Sage was an exception that I still regret now that she’s part of this world.
Plus, Del and I are both killers. We crave violence. How can love play into the world we’ve created for ourselves?
The world that we fell into after a tragic night twenty years ago.
I text Del to send me updates, adding a heart emoji, then cringe because he deserves more than a heart emoji.
Should I have texted him that I love him too?
What if something goes wrong at the Lords Mansion?
What if Lords soldiers—the ones who got away—show up for revenge?
What if Del is hurt, or killed, and I never get to tell him I love him back?
No… I can't text him. No one wants to be told they're loved for the first time through a text message.
I barely eat my eggs, toast, and fruit before my stomach turns upside down with nerves. There are too many unanswered questions still.
Is Finn responsible for our mothers' murders? He’s the one who put a hit on his own son, but I don’t blame him. Cillian grew up to be a liability for his father. I doubt Finn wanted his wife and children to die all those years ago.
I am, however, convinced he’s the one who ordered my apartment to be blown up.
My mind won’t shut off and I refuse to lie here in bed letting my thoughts drive me crazy.
The doctor told me I need to walk around so I ease myself out of bed and shove my feet into slippers.
My injuries ache as I inch my way down the hallway, but the pain medication I’m on numbs it enough to be bearable.
By the time I reach the door to my mother’s office, I’m sweating and fatigued.
For twenty years I avoided this room, which remained exactly how she left it.
The space is small, only big enough to hold the oversized chair in the corner, a desk, a bookcase full of books, framed photos, and other knickknacks.
Her desk is dust free and there’s a closed journal directly in the middle with a pen beside it. I open the pink cover and flip through the pages. Most of them are full of recipes, random thoughts, or ideas for charities she loved to volunteer for.
Only a few pages remain blank at the back, and before I close it, I notice a page is missing. There's a sliver of paper at the bottom that lets me know it was ripped out in haste.
That’s strange.
My mother would never be so careless when it came to her journal. Unlike me, she was always organized. She loved cleaning and decorating.
I leave the desk and walk over to the bookcase.
The spines are color coordinated and resemble a rainbow.
My mother was a fan of the old romance books that had bare-chested, long-haired men on the covers.
She had three rows full of them, leaving the two bottom rows of the bookcase for my children’s books.
I remember one day, not long after turning ten, she’d been in her office working on a letter to the city about a fundraising opportunity.
Aside from volunteering, she’d donate tens of thousands of dollars each year to charities, especially ones involving children and animals.
I ran in and begged her to let me read one of her adult romance books.
She told me I was still too young, and I could read them once I turned eighteen.
Then I forgot all about these books after she died. At least, I didn’t care to read them anymore.
A blue spined book has been mixed in with a red one, so I pull it out to put it back where it belongs.
Deadly Deceit.
The cover is gorgeous. It has a curvy blonde woman in a red dress, her leg poking out of a slit and a man with dark black hair beside her, wearing a suit and holding a gun.
I flip it around to read the back.
A woman discovers her husband has been lying.
She stumbles upon his secret life as a mobster, walking in on him the moment he murders a man in cold blood.
When she tries to run, he imprisons her in a cage.
She’s not alone. In the cell next to her is her husband’s rival, who’s been missing for the past five years.
Together they form a plan of deadly deceit: escape and kill the most powerful and dangerous man in the city.
Damn. This sounds good. Maybe a little too close to comfort. I’m going to read it. I tuck it under my arm and head back to my room. After setting the book on my bedside table, I walk into my closet to change out of the robe.
I pick out an oversized green sweater and leggings then comb my red and green hair into a bun at the top of my head, making a mental note to text my hair stylist Jenny for a dye job since it’s no longer Christmas. Maybe I’ll go all green this time. Or blue.
Though, blue would open the door for Del to call me a Smurf.
I walk out of my room to wait downstairs for Del to return and run into Matthew in the hallway. Relief sweeps through me, and he smiles at my reaction.
“So my father kept his promise?”
An emotion flickers over his face, too fast for me to process what it was. He looks over my shoulder. “What are you up to? Are you okay? I heard you almost—”
“I’m okay. Hurting like a motherfucker, but alive.”
He holds one hand behind his back and suspicion washes over me. My heart kicks into action, fueled by adrenaline.
I point my chin at him. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing.”
He takes a step back, and I match the move, hovering my hand over the knife I tucked into the band of my leggings—just in case.
Though, if he has a gun, my knife won’t be much help.
“Stop,” he says, his voice raised.
“I swear to God, Matt, if you’re here to kill me, you better kill yourself too because Del will find you and make you wish you were dead.”
“I’m not going to kill—”
He huffs and walks closer to me, into the dull light of the hallway.
“Oh, Matt,” I whisper.
His left eye is bruised, and his lip busted. He’s got tape over the bridge of his nose leading me to believe it’s broken.
“I just wanted to thank you for talking to your father,” he says.
After I woke up and Gio came to see me, I’d asked if anyone died in the Lords Mansion battle.
He’d said five of his soldiers and when I specifically asked about Matt, his face turned deep red with fury.
I found out about the hit he’d put on Matt, and I demanded he rescind it immediately.
Matt was following my orders. I was the one who changed the plan.
I explained to my father that if I’m going to lead someday, I can’t have my soldiers defying me.
It took me about ten minutes, but I’d finally convinced him not to kill his new head of security. I may have threatened to leave and cut ties with Gio unless he promised to allow Matt to live.
It’s clear my father still made sure to punish him.
“It’s fine, Noah. At least I’m not dead.”
I must wear a mask of guilt on my face. I sigh and nod. What more can I say? No words can undo what happened to him.
“Will you keep me company downstairs?”
Matt hesitates before answering, his face conveying an array of emotions. Is he hesitating because of my father?
“Del...”
Ah, the other protective man in my life.
“Don’t worry about Delancy. I won’t let him touch you again. Please, keep me company?”
Matthew relents, and we head into the living room. I hit a button, and a television emerges from behind the wall. I pull up a streaming app and select a comfort show.
“ Buffy the Vampire Slayer ?” Matt asks, amused.
“Don’t hate. Buffy is a badass!”
Matt laughs and shakes his head.
We watch the first five minutes of the show in silence before I can’t take it anymore. I have to know more about this man and his history with the Empire. I shut off the TV and turn in my seat to face Matt—who sits far away on the other side of the couch.
“Can I ask you a question?” His eyes widen, but he nods. “How long have you been a part of the Empire?”
“Since I was eighteen.”
His face drops into a scowl.
“Did you want to join that young?”
He shakes his head as a darkness washes over him. “My father was a soldier.”
“Was?”
“He got sick, and I replaced him.”
“Wait, were you forced to join?”
He sighs. “It doesn’t matter. I had to do it for my family.”
He looks away, letting me know he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore.
“Matt,” I whisper, moving to sit next to him. He looks away, hiding the black eye. “I’m sorry these injuries happened because of me. I asked him not to kill you. I should have promised him not to harm you either.”
“Did you really think there wouldn’t be consequences for letting you go inside the Lords Mansion?”
“Show me what he did.”
He holds up his left arm revealing his hand wrapped in bandages.
“All of it.”
He stares into my infuriated eyes for the longest time before slowly raising his shirt.
I curse. His entire torso is covered in bruises.
“This is not how I will run things once my father is gone,” I say quietly. “I won’t do this. I wouldn’t—”
“It’s necessary. It’s how mafias work. You’ll see.”
“No, Matthew. Fear is a tool, but so is unity… respect. I’ll give you an out once I’m in charge. I promise.”
He clamps his mouth shut and looks away again.
He doesn’t believe me.
“How long have you hated him?”
“Del or your father?”
That makes me laugh and the tension running through Matthew's body eases.
“I was talking about my father but now that you mention it, what is it about Del that scares you? You've been an Empire soldier for twenty years. You’ve worked your way up the ranks, right? Killing an endless number of men? Probably dudes twice as big as you?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“So what is it about my fiancé?”
Matt’s face turns crimson, and I wonder if he’s about to pass out with all the blood rushing to his head.
“Um, well, he stabbed me.”
“You’ve been stabbed before, Matthew.”
He smiles at me saying his full name again. He must not hear it a lot. He’s got a great smile. It lights up his tanned face. He’s not as built as Del, or as tall, but he’s definitely packed with muscle. Now, if only I could convince Del to have fun with Matt again.
“Yeah, but I’ve never been stabbed over a blow job.” He sighs and rubs his palm over his face. “I’m not scared of Del. I mean, he’s intimidating as fuck, but I mostly worry about your father finding out, and I really don’t want to die anytime soon.”
He laughs nervously.
“Don’t get me wrong, Noah, you’re beautiful, and your mouth is fucking talented, but now every time I see you or Del, I think about our threesome. As much as I would love to get involved with you two, I’d be the first one to end up dead if something went wrong.”
By either my dad or Del killing him, I add silently.
“Well, that’s a shame. I was desperately wanting to peg Del while he fucked your ass. Or maybe you fuck him while he fucks me.”
Matt groans. “You’re killing me, Noah.”
I giggle and ignore the heat spreading across my skin as I imagine reaming into Del, him shuddering with an orgasm and pouring his cum into Matthew’s tight hole.
It’s going to happen. I just have to find someone who Del won’t want to maim afterward.
The sound of car doors closing jolts us out of our conversation.
Matt stands. “That’s my cue to leave.” He doesn’t let me protest and nearly runs out of the room.
It takes me a while to reach the hallway, and by the time I round the corner, Del and Elias are walking inside.
“What are you doing down here?” Del asks the moment he spots me. He rushes to my side. “You should be in bed resting.”
He takes my arm and wraps it around his waist to act as my crutch. It's sweet but a tad bit overbearing. “I’m rested. I was tired of being cooped up in that room and needed to walk around. The doctor encouraged it.”
“Where’s Gio?” Elias asks, glancing around.
“He had a meeting at the gun range. When he says meeting, he usually means a game of poker with his cronies. He’ll probably be there all night.”
At least, that’s how it was when I was a kid.
“Good. We need to talk.” Elias walks past us into the sitting room and goes directly to the booze cart. He pours himself a glass of whiskey and takes it to the couch.
“What did you two find?” I ask after Del helps me sit on the loveseat across from Elias.
“Security video of the two men dousing your apartment with gasoline and setting it on fire,” Elias says.
“The video from my feed,” Del adds. “Someone must have hacked it.”
He curses, mumbling something about firing his hacker friend. Or maybe he said ‘killing’ his hacker friend.
“So he was responsible for blowing up our apartment,” I conclude.
“I’m not so sure,” Del says. “How the hell did he get that footage? Why would he want evidence to tie himself to the crime?”
“There’s no way for us to know that those men in that video are Lords,” Elias adds.
“Okay… but he said he hired us to kill Cillian. Why? He had no heir.”
“That we know of,” Elias says.
“He could have left the Lords to any blood relative, not just his children. We all knew Cillian would have gone power hungry in the role. Maybe that’s why he had him killed,” Del explains.
“And as for hiring you both,” Elias begins. “Double assurance? In case one of you failed?”
“But he figured out who we are. How?”
“We found pictures in a manilla folder addressed to Finn,” Elias continues.
“You and Cillian entering his apartment the night he was killed. Del showing up minutes later. Then pictures of you and Del leaving. Whoever was taking photos of you followed you all the way to Del’s safe house.
They staked out his place, then followed you the next day when you returned to Astoria and got shots of you both walking up to your apartment building.
They must have been in communication with someone the whole time, making sure you two walked inside the moment it blew up. ”
“We think whoever took these photos didn’t know our true identities until the night of the Christmas party. Then they saw an opportunity and sent them to Finn,” Del says.
“Someone wanted him to retaliate,” I murmur. “Our engagement connected our organizations, and they didn’t like it.”
Del and Elias nod simultaneously.
“But who? That’s what I can’t understand.”
“Whenever we figure that out, we’ll have the answers to who was behind the explosion… and possibly who was responsible for the murders of our mothers.”