Chapter 15
15
NOAH
W itness Protection is surprisingly similar to going undercover, except there’s no objective. We were given our new papers and identities as we flew in a tiny charter plane that had to stop for fuel twice before making it across the country. I was given a job teaching criminal science at a local community college, and Eli was tasked with running a machine shop for a local man who’d turned town politician. My mother and sister had been told that I was going deep undercover in South America. I wasn’t going to be allowed contact with them for at least several years, but that was a price I was willing to pay for Eli’s safety.
Stacey briefed us on the fallout after the operation. Gianni was dead and his whole operation had been compromised. She said that the intel she gathered that day led to several other arrests both in Montcove and internationally, but she was still angry that I killed Gianni. I never had any intention of letting him walk away from that fight, though. No one knew that I had a weapon on me, and that was intentional. I didn’t want Eli to change his mind, and I didn’t want Stacey to interfere any more than she had to. I knew that Gianni would just pull strings from behind bars. I’ve seen it too many times. Eli and I would be living the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders and waiting for him to be released or for one of his sycophants to come beating down our door.
Without Gianni or Mario Carbone around to lead, the Carbone family fell apart. At least that’s what it seemed like to Stacey, though I doubt she’d give me the whole story at this point. I told all of this to Eli earlier, but he seemed less than convinced. The coordinator is wrapping up some details with Eli while I wait in the kitchen. We landed pretty late last night and left most of the preparation for today. I’m supposed to meet with the college president tomorrow to talk about my new job, and Eli probably has to talk to his new boss, too.
When I hear the coordinator leave, I expect Eli to come back into the kitchen. After a few minutes with no sign of him, I walk out to find him sitting on the couch, his face weary and torn. My heart lurches as I sit next to him.
“Are you alright?” I ask. I lift my hand to his face. He didn’t shave this morning, so his jaw is rough against my palm as he leans into my touch.
“No,” he whispers. I clench my jaw. I don’t know what to say or do, so I just sit here, waiting. “I’ve just blown up my entire life,” he says without looking at me. “Everyone in my family is either dead or in jail, and my life is over.”
“It’s not over,” I say. “It’s just starting.”
“You don’t understand.” The lines on his face soften, but his words don’t match his expression. He’s right, though. Throughout my career I’ve changed identities half a dozen times. This is a familiar process for me, though I don’t know how to go about it without a clear end goal. For Eli, though, this is completely new territory. He’s always been Eli Carbone, mafia heir and pseudo-celebrity. I wonder whether he’ll be okay with the simple life that’s been curated for us.
“Just give it time,” I say. I feel like I’m begging, but I don’t completely know what for.
“I know,” he says as he leans back. “It’s a lot to process, and I’m still trying to figure it all out.”
“I understand,” I say.
“I don’t think you do.” Eli turns to me. I can’t read the expression on his face, but it’s not pain or regret. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
“Then explain it to me,” I say. I watch his jaw tick a few times as he considers his words.
“I’m relieved,” he finally says. My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. That’s not at all what I expected him to say.
“Relieved?” I echo.
“Yeah,” he says, and a slight smile breaks out across his face. “This job will give me the chance to express myself artistically, though working with metal is completely foreign to me. And the connections with the owner will give me opportunities to work with the Arts Council here in town.”
“That’s good,” I say slowly, though I’m barely following his line of thought.
“There are no expectations on me anymore, Noah,” Eli says, and a slight smile plays at his lips. “I can just be here with you. I don’t have to be afraid of someone seeing us, or what anyone thinks about it, or who my actions might reflect on.” His face visibly brightens as he looks around the room. “Look at this place, Noah,” he continues. “It’s beautiful.”
I take a moment to look around, to truly look. I’ve been in survival mode for so long it seems that I missed it all—the rustic cabin, the enormous redwoods behind us, and even a creek that runs behind our back porch. Our furniture for right now is sparse and secondhand, but that will be fixed soon enough.
“It’s a fresh start, Noah,” Eli murmurs, and it seems like he’s talking to himself. “I can just be Eli. I don’t have to be Eli Carbone anymore.” He turns to me and his eyes are so full of wonder that my heart skips a beat. They darken slightly as he looks at me, but I expect that by now.
“I know I hurt you, Eli,” I say. I expect him to stop me, but he doesn’t. “I know I hurt you, and I’m so sorry. I understand if it takes you a while to get past it, but I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy. I’ll make sure I deserve your love.”
“I’m not going to pretend like I’m all better now,” he says as he takes my hand. “We have a lot to get through and figure out, but you deserve my love and so much more. I love you, Noah, and we’ll be happy here, but you have to promise me something.”
“Anything,” I say, and I mean it. My heart is pounding.
“No more lies, Noah. No more hiding things from me,” he says.
“Done,” I say, relief washing over me. That’s probably the easiest promise I’ve ever made. I don’t ever want to keep anything from Eli again. He leans forward and kisses me lightly, then stands and pulls me up with him. “Should we go out and find something to eat?” I ask.
“Maybe in a little while,” Eli says with a grin. My pulse skyrockets as he leads me into the bedroom. He turns to me as we approach the bed. “I love you, Noah,” he says, then kisses me again. I relax into his arms, reaching up to cup his cheek. He leans into it as he probes my lips with his tongue and I allow him in. He kisses me in a way I’ve never felt before. There’s no shame, no apprehension. I push my lips harder into his, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth. He chuckles against me and pulls my shirt over my head. I take his off too and we collide, our skin hot and fevered. My hands touch every inch of exposed skin—his chest, his abs, his back. When I pull him against me I can feel his dick straining against his pants. I unbutton them quickly and he kicks them off as I fumble with mine.
We collapse onto the bed, our mouths meeting and separating as we kiss each other across our necks, our chests. I work my way between his legs, our shafts pressing against each other as we grind our hips. I look at him and he gives me a mischievous smile as he grabs a bottle of lube from the nightstand. I narrow my eyes, but I can’t concentrate on much more than the throbbing need pressed against his groin. I smell cinnamon as he opens the bottle, and a warming sensation creeps across my skin where he spurts the lube onto us both. I can’t help the grin spreading across my face as I massage the oil into our skin, drawing it across his hard dick before sliding my hand between his legs and pushing a finger against his opening. He rolls his head back and groans as the heat from the oil combines with the warmth of our skin. I slip another finger inside him, stretching him and preparing him for me.
“Tell me you love me, Noah,” he whispers to the headboard.
“I love you, Eli, more than you know,” I say as I slide the tip of my dick toward his opening.
“Then fuck me like you mean it,” he growls, and I almost come before I can even push inside. I barely manage to hold back as I slide into him and he moans in pleasure and pain. He tightens around my cock, and I push myself in until I’m completely buried in him. I roll my hips, making him cry out. He reaches his long arms upward and grabs the headboard as I slide out and thrust into him again.
“You don’t have to be quiet, Eli,” I growl as his face contorts in pleasure. “It’s just us.”
“Oh, fuck!” he cries as I thrust into him again. I put my weight down on him and feel his hard dick against my abs. “Harder,” he shouts, and I comply. I thrust into him again and again, his dick flexing between us. I know he’s getting close.
I lift myself up, then grab his knees and lift them over my shoulders so I can pound deeper and harder into his ass. I grab his hand and wrap it around his dick, stroking him with his own hand as I slam into him again and again and he shouts in pleasure. It takes all I have to hold back until I finally feel him flexing against me and coming all over both of us. I take his hand and suck his fingers into my mouth, licking them clean and sending me over the edge. I let out a guttural yell as I thrust into him as hard as I can and spill inside him. I continue to roll my hips, prolonging both our orgasms, before I finally collapse on top of him, fighting for breath. I lay my head down on his chest, still slick with sweat and semen.
“This is it, Noah,” he says. I want to lift my head and look at him, but I can’t move yet. “This is who we are. This is what we deserve.” My heart swells as I turn my head to kiss the line between his pecs.
“Yes it is, Eli,” I answer. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Noah,” he whispers, and my heart feels like it’s going to burst.