Chapter 16
Noah
Returning to my office after a long meeting down the hall, I can’t help but notice Marcus walking away from Emma’s desk. He has been hanging around a little too much for my liking and it pisses me off. I try to tell myself my irritation is simply because I’m looking out for my little brother, and it’s not jealousy rearing its ugly head. But as Emma catches sight of me and blushes—a sure sign that I just caught them flirting—the truth bites back.
“Get a grip,” I mutter to myself. The image of Marcus and Emma clings to my mind. Leaning back in my chair, I stare up at the ceiling. Marcus has always been the flirty, charming one, while I’ve been the reserved observer, the steady hand. But why does he have to go after her? I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t just anger, but envy perhaps.
Letting my temper take over, I decide to intervene. My fingers dance furiously over the keyboard as I fire off an instant message to Marcus.
Noah Lawson : Do I need to remind you how inappropriate your relationship with my assistant is?
His response comes almost instantly.
Marcus Lawson : Do I need to remind YOU how ugly jealousy looks on you?
His words add more fuel to my irritation.
Noah Lawson: Stay on your side of the floor, and there won’t be any issues. Remember, if she can’t keep up with the demands of this job, I’ll be forced to fire her. You wouldn’t want to be the reason that happens, would you?
Dots appear and then disappear as if he reconsiders his words, and then gives up. Ha! He should know better than to test me.
But then, as if summoned by my thoughts, the door swings open violently. A loud bang echoes through the room as the door hits the wall. An angry Marcus strides in, not stopping until he's standing directly in front of me. We’re chest to chest when I stand from my chair. I’ve never seen him like this, fuming and breathing rapidly. Adrenaline surges through me.
Emma rushes in a second later, her face pale and eyes wide with alarm as she shuts the door behind her.
“Marcus? What’s going on?” A mixture of worry and confusion laces her voice. Hearing his name on her lips certainly does nothing to alleviate the fury inside me.
“How dare you threaten her job.” Marcus seethes. “You know, I promised her I wouldn’t get involved, but I can’t stand back and watch you continue to treat her like shit! I could punch you in the jaw right now, and I’m not sure I would be able to stop myself.”
“Go ahead, Marcus. I’m not worried about you in the slightest. Do it,” I challenge. Part of me is hoping he will follow through with his threat. It would do me good to let out this anger.
But before we can unleash our frustrations on each other’s faces, Emma shoves herself between us, facing Marcus. I can't help but notice the way her ass brushes against my crotch, sending an electric current through me. The sweet smell of her shampoo invades my senses.
“Stop it, both of you!" she commands. "Marcus, you promised. I can handle this on my own. I don’t need you to defend me!” She places her hands on his chest. The move pushes me over the edge, there’s no turning back now. The primal instinct to lay claim to her feels so strong right now.
“You know, little brother, you always did want my old toys, my leftovers… sloppy seconds, if you will. Seems like nothing’s changed,” I sneer, stuffing my fists in my pockets. I try to appear casual, though I feel anything but.
Surprise flickers across Emma’s face, quickly replaced by anger and hurt. “Marcus, don’t stoop to his level,” she continues to plead.
“Emma, we’re not going to just ignore this," he counters. The way Marcus instinctively protects her sets my teeth on edge. He turns back to me, “you know my relationship with Emma isn’t what you’re trying to make it out to be. Someone had to step up and take care of her; we all know you weren't going to do it.”
His words cut deeper than I expect.
“Oh, and by the way, it’s a boy. Congrats on your son and for turning out to be just like our father. A deadbeat.”
“Son?!” Emma’s eyes are as wide as saucers again, shock written all over her face. “Marcus, did you think the baby was Noah’s?”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I didn’t knock her up!” I snap with irritation. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Emma flinch at my tone and it unsettles me. My mind races as I replay the conversation I overheard in the break room. The suspiciously guilty look on Emma’s face.
“Wait. It’s not his?" Marcus frowns, processing the information. "That day in the break room you said you were about to tell him about the baby. I thought—“
Emma’s eyes dart from me to Marcus and back again. “Wait. Is that what you both assumed? Is that why you've been so hateful towards me?" she questions me. "I can’t believe this. You thought I was passing this baby off as yours? How could you just assume that? Marcus, I was on my way to tell him because he needed to know. I thought our relationship was going somewhere and he needed to know what he was getting into. I can’t believe this,” she laughs bitterly as tears mix with her frustration.
A heavy silence falls around us as her words sink in. I stare at the floor, hands on my hips. I have no words. So many thoughts are swirling through my head. How did we get here? I feel a deep wave of regret wash over me. “Emma, I am so s—“ I begin. The hurt and betrayal on her face stops me dead in my tracks. “Emma,” I whisper, “I can’t believe I assumed… I just thought...”
Emma wipes her tears angrily. “You thought what?" she snaps. "That I was trying to tie myself to you? That I’d force you to take care of a child that wasn’t yours? How could you think so little of me?” The hurt in her eyes pierces me like a dagger to my heart, taking my breath away. Shame fills me, making it impossible to look her in the eyes.
“I feel like the biggest piece of shit in the world right now," I confess. "I shouldn’t have interrupted you that day. The second I thought you were taking advantage of me, I let my temper take over and I couldn’t think straight. I’m truly sorry.” The weight of the past few weeks settles heavily on me, suffocating, and gnawing at my conscience. I can’t believe how harsh I’ve been to her.
Marcus finally seems to come out of his daze. He clears his throat, breaking the tension. "You know what? We shouldn’t be fighting like this and stressing them both out." He turns to Emma, his voice softening. "Em, let me take you home for the day. I think you've had enough stress.” With those words, he puts an arm around her shoulder and walks her out.
Rather than feeling jealous, a strong sense of despair weighs on my chest as I watch them walk away. Regret and guilt threaten to suffocate me. I have never fucked up this bad.
———
Later that night, I find myself wide awake again. I'm desperately trying to chase away the guilt and shame swirling inside me with another glass of whiskey. The amber liquid momentarily soothes the pain. But that comfort doesn’t last long.
My phone suddenly vibrates on the coffee table in front of me with an incoming text. I glance at the screen and see Marcus’s nickname flashing at me. I roll my eyes. The way my own brother swooped in after Emma to be her hero leaves me feeling bitter towards him. Deciding to ignore the text, I get up to pour another glass. But before I grab the bottle, my phone buzzes again.
“What the fuck do you want, Marcus?” I mutter under my breath, frustration bubbling up to the surface again. I pick up my phone and swipe over the text message.
Marco : I thought you should know, I just brought Emma to the ER. She's been uncontrollably sick since we got home earlier. They're running tests now.
Marco : I’ll keep you updated.
“Like hell you will,” I spit. I snatch my keys off the kitchen counter and run out to my car. The cold March air slaps me in the face, reminding me I didn’t even stop to think about what I was doing. I ignore the chills, desperately needing to be by her side.