20. Dash #2
I watch her cheeks pinken, her jaw set tight, as feathers from that damn tutu are still stuck in her hair from Harbor Point. And all I can think is, She’s driving me through Manhattan traffic like it’s a death march , and it just might be.
I tap in the code for the bookstore and wave a hand in front of me. “After you.”
“I’d ask how you knew my code, but then I can’t remember if I asked you before.” She walks past me and inside.
She stops and stands there, looking around, so fucking happy to be surrounded by books and the place she made for herself, a haven of safety. With everything she has gone through, she still loves… love.
I want to just live in this moment, bask in the beauty that is Noelle Pembrooke. But the longer I wait, the longer I know, and she doesn’t … She’d have every right to be pissed at me for holding back.
“So,” I start at the same time she turns around and says, “I’m gonna need you to do me against a bookshelf.”
“Yeah?” I ask as I fight the demon inside me that threatens to silence the man she deserves.
“I mean, whenever.”
“Thought you’d want to see Hemingway before I get you naked and sweaty.”
“Hemingway and Earnest.” She smiles as she continues looking around as she makes her way back to the stairs that lead to her apartment.
“Come again?”
She holds two fingers up over her shoulder. “Two cats.”
“Have I been gone that long?” I chuckle.
“He is here until we find out if he’s lost and has a home where his people are missing him. If he does, he will go back; if not, he’s a new member of the Pembrooke Books fam.” She smiles as she unlocks the door. “And so are Hildy, Danny, Priya, and Andi. They work here now.”
“Four employees?” I ask as I follow her up, trying not to focus too hard on her ass.
“Five, Angie has always been here.”
“Sweet, my girl’s a boss.”
“Apparently, I am.” She opens the door to her place and squeals, “Hello, my loves. Mommy’s home!”
I’m sitting on her couch, which is extremely comfortable—the complete opposite of what I am right now—as she feeds the two—yes, two—black cats.
She looks back at me. “Are you okay?”
“I am.” I swallow hard. “But I have a … complicated topic to discuss with you, and it …” I shake my head and whisper a reminder, “It’s not about me.”
Her face drops, and she goes pale. She just stands there. She fucking knows, and it’s fucking her up this bad before she even knows the whole scope of it. This isn’t just going to hurt; it’s going to fucking kill me.
“Talk to me, Noelle,” I say, standing and walking over to her. When I take her hands, her body goes stiff, and her shoulders raise just enough to notice.
Her eyes fill with tears, and she looks down at our hands.
“Him telling you …” She swallows hard. “Him telling you means he knew. He knows,” she scowls.
“I was ready to forgive him for … you know, being so cold because they thought maybe I was to blame. Maybe he really believed he died because I was a bitch. After all, boys cheat, right? It’s okay, forgivable.
We’re supposed to accept it’s just boys being boys. ”
“No, you should never accept that.”
She nods, staring down at her hands. “Today, I thought I could move forward finally, and …” She stops.
“But him knowing that when I tried to break up with him, he … did that to me? Did that to me and wouldn’t let me leave, and …
” She pulls her hands back and hugs herself.
She looks up at me. “I walked three miles in the middle of the night after they all passed out and … he knows … which means they know, and?—”
I feel sick to my stomach. This isn’t what we discussed. This is so much fucking worse.
I want to hug her, hold her, but based on her body language right now, I don’t know if it would harm or help.
“Noelle.”
She looks up at me, blinking away tears.
“This isn’t about us right now. It’s about you. I need to fucking hug you, wipe away your tears. But if you don’t want me to, then you gotta tell me.”
Her nose flares. “James Florence hurt me, forced himself on me, wouldn’t let me leave, hit me, pinned me down, held me against my will for hours… hurting me! And he knew!” She’s crying, but in a way I have never witnessed—tears falling, nose running, angry, so angry.
I take her face in my hands. “No, Noelle, that’s not what he and I talked about. That’s not what I wanted to tell you, but I promise you that if that sick piece of shit weren’t dead already,”—my eyes burn so hot tears build up—“I would kill him myself.”
“He doesn’t know? Rick doesn’t know? He didn’t tell you!”
I shake my head as I thumb away tears.
“Then I just did. I told you. I—” She steps back, bats at her tears, and rubs her shirt sleeve under her nose. “I need to be alone.”
“I think you’ve been alone long enough, Noelle. I think leaving you would fucking kill me.”
As soon as I say that, she recoils like I’ve struck her, and it takes a minute to realize that fuck probably said the same kind of shit and …
“Fuck. Noelle, I’ll leave. I’ll leave, but you gotta tell me who to call and?—”
“No one knows!” She throws her hands in the air and laughs maniacally. “Oops, wrong. Mom knows some of it. My dad knew I was fucked up for months, which is why my therapist knows some. Now you.” She shakes her head. “Of all people, I tell you ? God, what was I thinking?”
“Tell me what you need. Please, Noelle. Tell me what?—”
“ What did he say to you ?”
Fuccckkk.
“Tell me now, Dash!”
I shake my head.
“Then leave! Leave and?—”
“Leon is …” Words get stuck in my throat.
“Is what?” she yells.
I fist my hair and look at the ground. “He’s my uncle.”
“What?” she says, voice no longer angry. It’s … fucking shattered.
“Rick, Dad, Leon, and their other brother, Timothy, best friends growing up and?—”
“I can’t do this. I —”
“They were all together when he died, Noelle. Rick left because …” I shake my head, not wanting this to be about me or my shit.
The girl I love was fucking raped by my biological family.
“He just couldn’t stay … for reasons. Leon left, too.
I didn’t even know where I knew him from …
that town.” I shake my head. “I knew there was a connection. What I didn’t expect was that the little fuck who used to taunt me was the same piece of shit that hurt you, and I certainly didn’t know he hurt you.
” I hold my hand over my stomach. “I’m so fucking sorry, Noelle.
And I understand why you want me to leave, but you have to understand that I can’t leave you alone, especially not like this.
Let me call Nalani. Let Sofie come over. Claudia.”
“How?” Her voice cracks. “How did this happen? My God, how did I not see you two look?—”
God, that cuts so fucking deep. I am bleeding, but of course. Of fucking course.
“Leon, that whole family, changed their last name, a fresh start after …” I shrug as opposed to even appearing to make this about my father’s death. It’s not about either death; it’s about Noelle. “Can I please call someone for you? Please, Noelle.”
“No,” she says with quivering lips. “No, I don’t want to talk to anyone. I just want to sleep.”
“Don’t make me leave.”
“How could I ask you to stay?”