Chapter Thirty-Two Noah
Chapter Thirty-Two
Noah
Goldie’s screaming, her hands gripping my shirt and digging into my back. But I’m unmoving as I watch the man she thought I was here for stumble a few steps. He gasps for air, but it’s only a gurgle as blood pours from his neck before he drops to his knees and falls dead.
There’s not a sound in the room as people look at each other, trying to figure reality from fiction.
Goldie’s crying, her face pressed to my side, making my body sway, as Billy wipes the blood on his knife over his sleeve before smiling.
My eyes bore into his, all my rage circling and gathering into a storm. He tried to kill my mother. He tried to kill me. And he came here to kill my girl . . . I’m going to make him truly hurt for that.
A girl from the crowd close to the stage lifts to her tiptoes and stares closer at the dead body, then reaches out and touches the puddle of blood that’s pooled.
She rubs her fingers together before the horror of reality sets in, and she lets out a bloodcurdling scream.
People scatter.
They’re running and pushing each other out of the way, desperate to get to the exit, as Goldie and I stand on the stage. Five feet away from my father.
He tilts his head, his eyes landing on Goldie.
“The lovers,” he says, like it’s some kind of inside joke. “Aren’t you going to ask how I found you?”
I press my palm against Goldie’s hip, trying to get her to move back behind me, but her feet barely move. She’s frozen with fear as she clutches my arm, but I want her away from him and the blood on the ground, slowly creeping closer.
My eyes narrow as I watch the way Billy’s staring at her, taking her all in like he’s curious.
“Don’t fucking look at her,” I bark. “And I don’t give a shit how you found me.”
His eyes instantly meet mine as he points the tip of the knife at me, wagging it. “You know I’d almost like you if I didn’t wonder so much about what your fucking insides looked like.”
Goldie finally follows my silent instruction and moves behind me, burying her face into the back of my arm.
Billy takes a step forward, and I match it backward, moving her too.
“She has nothing to do with this. It’s between me and you . . . father to son. So why don’t you just let her go? And we can battle it out right here.”
I glance at the room and see it clear out, and an ache begins inside me. I want to kill him, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Billy laughs with his head tilted back, his face to the ceiling. “Is that what you think? That I’m here for you?” His head drops back down. “Is that what your slut mother told you?”
My hands ball into fists as I press my lips together, breathing heavily through my nose.
“It’s what I know,” I growl back. “She told me you’d never share her.”
He pats the butcher knife against his leg. “Your mother was a used-up whore who spread her legs for rich boys . . .”
I bristle, which seems to please him.
“Oh, this is a gift to me,” he hisses, whiplashing into a new emotion.
I look away, but only for a second to gauge how close we are to the stairs, but he moves his head to maintain our eye contact.
“You’ve gone your whole life thinking of yourself as some kind of prodigal son . . . waiting for my return.”
I’m silent as I stand straight, my spine like steel, because he can try and drag her name through the mud, but he knows I know the truth.
He grins before scraping his teeth over his bottom lip.
“This is going to feel almost as good as when I gut you, groin to sternum.” He drags the knife up his body to his neck in demonstration as his eyes bore into mine.
“Emerson was never my whore. You’re named after your daddy, boy.
” He points the knife at me, then slowly moves it toward Goldie. “I’m not your father. I’m hers.”
What the fuck.
I can’t move. My mouth has fallen open, and I’m unsure if my heart is even beating. I’m frozen, but I can still feel Goldie’s chest moving up and down quickly against my arm.
She’s not crying anymore. She’s silent.
My face slowly turns to hers, seeing shock and fear etched over her features.
“No . . .” She shakes her head and looks at me before facing him. “That’s a lie.”
He tsks, grinning evilly. “Now don’t go being disrespectful to your papa, or I won’t let you watch as I spill his insides all over the fucking floor.”
I reach back to try and stop her from moving, but she does anyway, coming to stand next to me.
“You can’t be my father. You’re lying. You just know I was adopted, and you’re trying to hurt Noah.”
He snaps, stabbing the knife into the air as he barks, “I don’t lie.” Then he smiles again. “That’s your little Prince Charming.”
I frown as he starts to pace small steps back and forth, not taking his eyes off us.
“I tried . . .” He lifts his hands, shrugging.
“I tried to get over her. But when the woman you love leaves you with this”—he tugs his shirt down, exposing a treacherous-looking scar on his chest—“you can’t ever really forget her. ”
The tip of the knife in his hand is beginning to cut a hole in his pants as he keeps sticking it more and more aggressively.
“His dad”—Billy points at me, then stops in place again—“he tried to kill me. He beat me until all I could taste was my own blood; then he held me underwater until I pretended to stop breathing. But I got away . . .”
His voice trails off and his eyes grow hooded like he’s in the memory, reliving the way he killed everyone, before he blinks a few times and picks up where he left off.
“I got away and went north. Even met a girl, but she was just like all the others before her. She never stopped crying. Always saying, ‘Please don’t. Stop, it hurts.’”
Goldie’s hand shoots to cover her mouth, disgusted by what he’s saying and maybe understanding that he’s talking about torturing her biological mother.
Billy’s head tilts. “She’s not with us anymore.” He locks eyes with Goldie. “But that’s the price you pay when you abandon your child to pigs.”
Goldie gasps, and I know she believes him like I do. Where she was left isn’t in the public record. He takes another step forward, into the blood on the floor.
But Goldie stands there, shaking her head.
“Don’t you get it, sunshine? I did this for you . . .” Goldie scowls as she stares at him. “For my girl. I did all of this for you so we can be together.”
“You’re a fucking psycho,” she snaps.
He growls violently before dropping down into a squat by the body on the floor. He stabs it quickly in succession before he lets out a deep breath and pants, almost singing his words. “Don’t disrespect your father, Goldie.”
“You’re not my father,” she counters, but in all the time she’s been pushing back, I’ve been moving us back toward the stairs.
Billy smiles wide and turns his head just enough that we both see the sun birthmark behind his ear. Just like hers.
“Then explain this.”
He’s not looking at us, so I take the opportunity to whisper “Go” to Goldie as I turn her around and push her toward the stairs. Without hesitation, she listens, tearing away from me and running.
“Bitch,” he thunders, lunging past the body and straight for her, but I’ve already anticipated him and throw my body between them.
The feeling of hot iron seers my skin directly across my left bicep. I groan but swing a right hook, hearing the crack against his fucking jaw before I cover my hand over the already-bleeding wound.
“Fuck,” he yells as his body twists and the knife goes flying, skidding across the floor.
I turn and run, flying down the stairs as I hear her yell my name.
“Noah. Over here.”
Goldie’s waiting by the doors as I make it to her. I glance back and see Billy standing on the stage with his knife back in his hand before we run out into the night.
I am going to kill him tonight, but first I’m getting her the fuck out of here.
Everything’s happening quickly. I’m barking directions, telling her how to get to the van as she rushes out, “Oh my god, Noah. You’re bleeding.”
Chase’s van comes into view just as he and Evie come running toward us.
“She wouldn’t leave until she found G,” Chase yells as an explanation for why the van hasn’t already been started.
“What is happening?” Evie yells, grabbing her sister by the shoulders to ensure she’s unharmed.
“Holy fuck, Noah,” Chase thunders. “You’re fucking cut.” He looks at Evie and points to the Dracula cape she’s wearing. “Gimme that thing.”
She takes it off, but I’m trying to talk over them, saying we need to get the fuck out of here, but nobody is listening. Chase rips the material before wrapping it around my arm and tying it, making me groan deeply.
“Did Billy do this?” he whispers, and I nod.
“We have to go. Now.”
Evie points at me. “Fuck you and your daddy issues. This is your fault. You should stay.”
Goldie shakes her head, but I ignore Evie’s words because Billy may not be my daddy issue anymore, but I absolutely plan to stay.
I’m ushering Goldie toward the van as Chase winces. “Sorry, I told her. She’s kinda scary when she wants info.”
I look around to try to see if Billy’s coming as we get to the van doors, but Goldie makes everyone stop in their place. “Billy’s my dad . . . my biological one.”
Evie’s eyes grow wide. “What the heck are you talking about, Golds?”
I shake my head. “We can talk about it in the van. Let’s go. Come on.”
Chase bursts into action by pulling the handle and sliding open the door, but the girls are just staring at each other.
“Get in,” Chase presses, pushing Evie, but she pushes him back. “Okay . . . I’m trying to keep you alive. Work with me?”
“I’ll explain later,” Goldie reassures her. “But none of this is Noah’s fault.”
We all hurry into the van and lock the doors before Chase looks at me and nods in acknowledgment of the plan. I nod back as he throws it into reverse.
A loud succession of thuds accompanies the bouncing of the van.
Fuck, I think as Chase says it aloud. He looks at me. “He cut the tires. The fucking tires are flat.”