Chapter Seventeen
Noah
To kill or not to kill, that is the question.
Of course, I’m not feeling anywhere close to poetic or philosophical as I seethe. It’s been three hours since the encounter with Rammi, but my fury hasn’t died a bit. I spent a few minutes running my hands along the cool barrels of my cheetahs. The cold hard smoothness of the rifles generally calms me down, but not today. I debated which one would be better to use, imagining Joey in the crosshairs and slowly pulling the trigger.
It would be so satisfying, and the fucker deserves it. I had a perfect chance to get closer to Bobbi and convince her I could be the one she’s looking for. But then he had to send that crazy “I’m ready to have your baby immediately” floozy, and now I’m just fucked.
I should turn Joey’s knees into mush. That way he won’t be able to go around sending me hookers. Actually, I should destroy his elbows so he can’t use his phone.
I sit in the dark amid the unfamiliar furniture and breathe slowly, trying to control my rage. But the scent of Joey’s cologne is gasoline over an open flame.
If my dad’s assistant didn’t live in an apartment complex, I’d be tempted to set the place on fire.
I close my eyes to rein in all sorts of highly illegal impulses. Dear God, I know you love Nicholas the most because he’s the nicest of us all and rewarded him by pushing Joey from the stairs, but you know… I’ve also done a lot of good deeds like sniping terrorists and running sting ops on arms dealers. So maybe do me one solid? Not asking for much. Just a divine drone strike. A literal deus ex machina.
But maybe it’d be better if Joey got struck by lightning. Sadly, there’s no crackling in the air.
Guess I haven’t killed enough terrorists to satisfy the Lord.
The door rattles; the lock turns with a soft click and I open my eyes. There’s the click of a switch being flipped, but nothing happens.
“What the fuck?” comes Joey’s voice. “I just changed the bulbs!”
Finally. The object of my ire is finally home.
His loafers slap the hardwood floor as he mutters with impatient irritation. “Nobody can do anything right! What the hell is wrong with the world? They have one fucking job!” The rapid complaints continue as he makes his way to the master bedroom, where I’ve been waiting for over an hour.
He flips the switch. Again, nothing. “Goddammit…” He glances out the window where the City of Angels glitters and sighs. I have excellent night vision, and can make out his scowl in the dark.
I stand silently. “Hello, you little fucker.”
Joey starts violently. “Who’s that?” His voice trembles with a tinge of fear.
I start to move toward him. “What’s the matter? You fuck too many people over to recognize who I am?”
“Noah…?” He turns toward me. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“Locksmith.” Not telling him about my expertise with locks.
“What? That’s illegal!”
“Illegal, but not as low as you sending me that porn star.”
“Who?”
My little remaining patience vanishes. “Rammi, you moron!”
“Oh, her? What’s wrong with her? She’s fabulous. Headlights on high, all the time. Pretty face. Nice lips. No filler, by the way. Totally really, feel great, too. If you ever have them wrapped around your cock, you’ll know exactly what I mean. I went above and beyond just for you.”
The memory of that octopus tentacle-sucker mouth fleets through my head. Nausea rises at the thought of her anywhere near me. “Are you shitting me?”
“What? She’s hot.” Joey sounds genuinely confused.
“She’s a freak!”
“Freakishly hot. The best of the bunch. Huxley got the leftovers, Noah! You should thank me.”
Every blood vessel in my head feels like it’s about to burst. “Thank you? I’m going to murder you!”
Joey raises his hands defensively. “Okay, fine, no need to get so mad. I tried to get a broad range of women, but the normal ones simply aren’t interested in you that way. You saw how Bobbi was when she realized I was trying to set her up with you! So I’m telling you, buddy, it’s you, not me.”
“Wait—are you blaming me?”
“It’s pretty obvious, man. Look, a little advice. Okay? No offense, but if I were you, I wouldn’t be screwing around. I’d be busy making a baby with Rammi. She’s fabulous mother material.” He shrugs. “Don’t like her lips? No problem. Just concentrate on her nipples.”
My brain refuses to process the nuclear garbage out of his mouth.
“But until you give Ted the grandbaby he wants, I’m gonna do what I have to do.” Joey lifts his chin, defiant and proud that nothing’s going to stop him from pleasing my father.
The hot rage dies abruptly, leaving me surprisingly cold and focused, like I always become when I have a target in the crosshairs. I can’t have Joey sending more Rammis when I’m on a mission to prove to Bobbi I love her and convince her to give me another chance.
I step forward, spin Joey around so he’s facing the wall and shove him hard enough against it to rattle his picture frames. He grunts at the impact.
“What are you doing? This is assault!”
“Sue me.” I press the tip of the blade I always carry against his fleshy side.
He flinches. “What’s that?”
“Give you a hint. It’s not Rammi’s nipple.”
He lets out a sound somewhere between whine and whimper. I slowly drag the tip all the way up until it’s resting against the pulsing vein on his neck. His breathing grows rougher and shallower.
“You can’t kill me.” His whisper lacks conviction. “You’re just a…photographer.”
“Don’t be so sure, Joey,” I say into his ear. “You know what I had to do to get some of my best shots? To survive on the veldt for days at a time? To clear out animals that were in the spot I needed to be? Last time it was a Cape cobra. You know what that is?”
“A snake?” he whispers, trying not to move against the knife.
“That’s right. A snake. An orange one. Highly poisonous. Reminded me of you, actually. Skinning it was fun.” Joey’s Adam’s apple moves up and down. I add a bit more pressure on the knife, not enough to cut the vein—it’s not the best way to kill someone; too messy and the spraying blood is a bitch to get out of your clothes—but enough to nick the skin.
“Oh God! Please don’t!” There’s the sound of something wet dripping on the floor.
“Did you just piss your pants?” I demand in disgust, hoping none of it splattered on my shoes.
“Please. Please don’t hurt me. I won’t tell anybody you were here.”
Does he honestly think he has anything to bargain with? He can tell everyone what happened. I was very careful to avoid getting caught on security cameras. And my home security system is going to show I’m currently in the living room watching a BBC documentary on marine life while nursing a whiskey.
I spin Joey around and put the point of the blade under his chin. “Don’t send any more women if you want to live. Ever. Got it?”
“But Ted—”
“You gonna risk losing an appendage for my dad? No more women.”
He inhales sharply.
“Joey, I’m serious. Don’t fuck with me. You know what happens with nice guys when they decide to let go.”
He bites his lip. Jesus. He’s a weasel, but I have to give him credit for blind loyalty to my dad. I increase the pressure a little, causing him to go up on his toes. “What’s it gonna be?”
His eyes are the size of dollar coins. Whatever he sees on my face must be pretty convincing because he tries to nod. With the knife under his chin, it comes out as a sort of vertical twitching. “Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“No more women.”
I let him go and step back. He crosses his arms over his torso, hands gripping shoulders.
“I’m glad we could come to an agreement.” I fold the blade away with an audible snik. “I’d hate to have to cut something off you.”
“Jesus, Noah…” Joey says shakily, desperately trying to cling to the idea that I’m the same old harmless Noah he’s always known. But it won’t work anymore.
“You get one chance. One. Understand? No more women.”
“Okay, okay, I get it.”
“Good. Because if there’s another incident, I’ll be back.” I smile. “And next time, I’ll wear an old shirt. One I won’t mind ruining with your blood.”