24. Chapter 24
Chapter 24
Noah
T here comes a time in everyone’s life when they’re forced to face the consequences of their temptations. Husbands, buried under the weight of divorce papers after chasing a thrill outside their vows. Gamblers, drowning in debt, realizing too late that the house always wins. And now, a teacher, standing at the edge of his own destruction, about to shatter the one fragile sense of peace he’s clung to for longer than he can remember.
Call me an idiot. Call me selfish.
The phone call Elijah barged in on couldn’t have come at a worse time. I should have known my brother would be looking for me. I should have been smart enough to know how easily he could find me… and Ana.
But I got lazy .
I let my guard down, let myself slip too far into the comfort of temptation.
Jake's voice grated in my ears. His voice heavy with the presence of accusation.
"Hey, big brother," he quips, voice laced with mock familiarity.
I grit my teeth, already resisting the urge to smash my phone against the wall.
"What the hell do you want?"
"Now, now, no need to be so brash. You’re the one, after all, who ran away and left me to deal with our father’s affairs. Or have you forgotten where your real duty lies? Must be hard to concern yourself with the family business when you’re busy playing teacher and fucking that beautiful redhead I saw sneaking out of your apartment.”
My blood turns to ice.
He knows.
Jake fucking knows.
"You know, it’s interesting,” he continues, dragging the words out like he’s savoring every syllable. “Initially, I was looking into that little prick’s family, the one who owns the building, but then, when I saw her leave with such a wide grin, it was impossible to get her face out of my mind-”
My grip tightens on the phone, rage curling hot and violent in my gut.
"Turns out, she’s a student at Spokehaven University… one of your students. Now, normally, I’d let you have your fun, let you fuck her, ruin her, and then have my way with her once you were done-”
Keep it together, Noah. He’s baiting you.
"But,” he goes on, voice darkening, “there’s something even more interesting about your little school. Something other than the students.”
Dread twists in my stomach.
What the fuck is he talking about?
Could he possibly know about Ana, Cole, and that night? Could Cole have told him? How?
Then Jake’s voice drops into a venomous whisper.
"Eden Briar," he hisses. "A lovely photography teacher… married to one of the Antonov's biggest threats. Roman fucking Christopher Briar. Associate to Echo, that damn thorn in my side.”
I freeze.
"Echo?" I scoff, but my throat is dry.
"Echo," Jake repeats, his voice sharp. "The same person who put the hit on our father. Ring any bells?”
The weight of those words crushes into me like a freight train.
My father’s murder. The fallout. The bloodshed .
My thoughts spin, piecing together the puzzle in real time.
"Roman Briar is a prominent face in Spokehaven," I argue, forcing reason into my voice. "There’s no way he’d jeopardize his family’s safety by associating with a killer like Echo-”
"Really?" Jake sneers. "Because your altered social security number was flagged today. Things like that don’t happen unless you’ve made some very powerful people suspicious.”
Fuck.
Eden told me.
Told me about Roman’s suspicions.
Begged me to give my side.
And I had said nothing .
Now I see the real storm brewing.
"I have no quarrel with the Briars-”
"Yes, you do." Jake’s voice sharpens. "You’re my brother, which means my enemies are yours.”
I grit my teeth, dread pooling like lead in my stomach.
"Listen, I’m willing to let you keep playing teacher, getting intel on the Briars. But I don’t have the luxury of loose ends.” He lets out a slow, deliberate sigh. "If you’ve gone and fallen in love with a student, I assure you, I can quickly make that problem go away.”
Rage ignites like gasoline in my veins.
"She is nothing," I hiss, forcing the words out before my emotions can betray me. "Leave her out of this."
"Right,” Jake scoffs, amusement dripping from his tone. "Well, then this should be simple. You get me what I need on the Briars, and Ana stays out of my grasp.”
His voice turns smug, taunting.
"Unless, of course, you need some extra motivation to do what I ask-”
Something inside me snaps.
I have to sell this.
Have to make him believe she’s nothing.
"I get what I want. You get what you want," I snarl, forcing my voice into something cold, something cruel. "Whatever piece of ass I’m tapping is none of your concern. If you’re smart, you’ll stay far away. I’m sure you’d love to dig into my wares, but I assure you-"
I clench my jaw, forcing out the final blow.
"When I’m done with the little whore, there won’t be much left to have fun with.”
Silence.
Then, a low chuckle.
"You’re right about one thing," Jake murmurs. "If you don’t do what I want… there will be nothing left of her.”
That’s when Elijah walked in.
He had heard too much and knew too little.
And after Eden overheard his outburst... I knew.
I knew I had to keep Ana far away from the storm my brother was creating.
The one piece of solace I had in all this chaos is now slipping right through my fingers.
Gripping the keys to my bike, I tip back what’s left in my flask, knowing damn well there isn’t enough whiskey in the world to soften the blow of this conversation.
I was vague with Ana. Gave her little context for why I needed to see her. The last thing I need is Roman Briar knocking on her door, followed by Seth Antonov cornering them both to get what he wants.
Ana is not safe with me.
And that... that’s a reality I can’t stomach.
“Drinking before you’re even off campus?”
Her soft voice cuts through the air, laced with an uneasy laugh.
Reality slams back into me as our eyes lock.
She shifts uncomfortably, her movements hesitant. Her eyes are swollen, her cheeks red, streaked with the evidence of wiped-away tears.
Who made her cry?
No.
I can’t do this.
I can’t make her my problem.
“Seemed fitting,” I murmur, keeping my tone vague.
“Fitting? How so?” She glances around, cautious. “Why meet here and not at your apartment?”
Fuck.
Here goes everything.
“You’re not coming back to my apartment,” I say, voice sharp.
Her face falls.
“Not for Walker. And sure as hell not for me.”
Forcing the anger into my tone, I let it wrap around every syllable like barbed wire.
She takes a step closer.
“Noah-”
Holding up my hand, I step back.
“Don’t fucking call me that. Don’t say my name like we know each other.”
Her lips part, confusion flashing across her face.
“Did something happen-”
“Yes.”
The word comes out like a gunshot.
I grab the front of her shirt, yanking her toward me, making her stumble.
“I let this go too far,” I hiss, my breath coming ragged. “I let what happened between us get out of control. I was having fun. And I couldn’t look past your damn lips around my cock-”
“Noah-”
She has to believe me.
She has to .
My hand moves before I can stop it.
The crack of my palm against her cheek is deafening.
She gasps, a vicious yelp ripping through the air, ripping through me like a dull knife, carving through muscle and bone.
The sting radiates up my arm, a brutal reminder of what I’ve just done.
She clutches her cheek, her eyes wide, stunned... betrayed.
Taking a shaky breath, I force myself to stay in control.
“I fucking told you not to call me that,” I snarl, yanking her close again, forcing her to meet my eyes. “What we had was fun, but now, it’s too much.”
She trembles, her fingers pressing into her burning cheek. The raw emotion in her eyes stirs something in me I thought was long dead.
Empathy.
“I-I didn’t mean-”
“To what?” I laugh, the sound sharp and cruel. “Whore yourself out to your teacher to distract yourself from the fact that your cock-sucking ex is holding your murder over your head?”
Tears spill over her cheeks, soaking her skin, carving silent paths of agony.
“You want what? Sympathy? Love?” I sneer, my own pain twisting deep in my gut. “You were a great fuck, Ana. But you should’ve learned by now-”
Do it, Noah.
Finish it.
“Your only use is to be fucked and tossed away.”
Her eyes widen, her entire body shaking with the weight of my words.
She stares at me, her breath uneven, tears relentless.
My stomach lurches. My hands shake.
It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to throw myself onto my bike and drive straight into oncoming traffic.
Because I want her.
I want to hold her.
I want to kiss her.
I want to keep her safe.
But that can’t happen with me.
She steps back, peeling my fingers away from her shirt.
“You-” she chokes, her voice wrecked. “Promised.”
I swallow hard.
“Yeah,” I say, the word cold, final. “You should have known better.”
She clutches her throbbing cheek, her head shaking, eyes unfocused.
“Mrs. Briar was right,” she whispers.
Eden?
What the hell did Eden say to her?
“You can’t care,” she bites, her voice trembling, thick with unshed pain. “You can’t attach.”
A sob catches in her throat.
“You can’t love.”
Her words gut me.
Because, Ana…
That might be the only reason I’m doing this.
“Love?” I laugh, the sound hollow and cruel.
She flinches.
“God, you really are fucking delusional,” I sneer, watching the pain flicker in her eyes, watching as it cuts into her, deeper than anything else I’ve said. “If you wanted love, Ana, maybe you should have given Walker what he wanted.”
The second the words leave my mouth, I see it.
I see the moment I ruin everything.
The moment I lose her.
She blinks, stunned, her breath shuddering in her chest.
Then she steps back.
Her lips tremble, her chin quivers, and then…
The first sob breaks free.
It shatters something in me.
But I don’t move.
I don’t reach for her.
I don’t do the one thing I desperately need to do; pull her into me, bury my face in her hair, hold her until her sobs quiet and there’s no air left between us.
Instead, I stand there, silent and frozen, watching her crumble because of me.
She stumbles backward, her shoulders shaking, her breath ragged, the weight of my words poisoning every fragile piece of her.
And I let her go.
I let her leave.
Because I have to.
Because if I chase after her now, I’ll undo everything.
Her eyes meet mine one last time, burning with a rage I’ve never seen from her before.
With heartbreak.
With hate.
“I hate you,” she whispers, her voice trembling, raw, final.
My stomach lurches.
The ground beneath me cracks open, swallowing me whole.
Then she turns.
Walks away.
And before she’s even gone, she lands the final blow.
“Love will never be something you deserve.”
A breath leaves me, sharp, like I’ve just been stabbed.
Nothing has ever hurt more than those parting words.
Nothing.
And the worst part?
She’s right.