Chapter 3 #2
Jessica is somewhat complicated. I met her two weeks ago while buying vegetables at the local farmers market and we’ve been texting ever since.
She's Australian, maybe forty, with sun-damaged skin and an aggressively friendly demeanor.
She'd struck up a conversation about the best hiking trails, and before I could politely extract myself, she'd invited herself over for tea.
I should have said no, but I was intrigued to see what Noah would do. Curious how he'd react to someone inserting themselves into our carefully constructed isolation. So I'd said yes, thinking what a great entry it would make in my journal.
And now she's coming over, and Noah is pissed, I can see from the set of his jaw that he's already decided how this will end.
"I don’t like that you invited her into our home," Noah says quietly, crossing the room toward me. "Into our private space."
"It's just tea, Noah. She's harmless."
He backs me against the wall, his hand coming up to rest against my throat, a warning that I will pay for this, most likely with my ass, which I’m not mad about.
"No one is harmless," he says, his thumb brushing my pulse point.
"But we'll be polite to her and then she'll leave and never come back. It will be up to you the manner in how she leaves. Don’t start pushing me now, Chase. What you think you know about me, might show you things you aren’t ready for. "
His mouth brushes my ear, and I shiver. "And tonight, I'm going to remind you exactly who you belong to and who is in control."
The promise in his voice makes heat pool low in my belly.
I make a mental note of his reaction to write in my journal later.
I understand that a lot of people don’t appreciate visitors, or particularly enjoy maintaining some form of a social life.
But this is different, Noah is reacting like someone is trespassing on forbidden land, as if we have a boundary around us that nobody can step across.
And it’s all because he doesn’t like to share me and our time with anyone.
“You’re over-reacting, Noah,” I say, with zero conviction as I know he will never change. But I enjoy provoking him to see how he’ll react, especially if I benefit later. Nothing he does to me is a punishment in my book.
“When it comes to you, never,” he says, and then he's gone, leaving me breathless against the wall, already anticipating what comes after Jessica leaves.
Jessica arrives at three o'clock, carrying a tin of homemade biscuits and wearing a bright floral dress that seems aggressively cheerful against the muted tones of our house. Noah hates people in general, but this jovial kind will be his worst nightmare.
"Chase! So lovely to see you again!" She sweeps in without waiting for an invitation, her eyes immediately scanning the space with undisguised nosiness. "What a gorgeous place you have here. Very secluded, isn't it? Must be nice to have so much privacy."
There's something in the way she says privacy that makes my skin prickle with awareness.
"Jessica, this is my husband, Noah."
Noah extends his hand with mechanical politeness. "Jessica."
She takes it, her smile faltering slightly at his cold tone. "Lovely to meet you. Chase has told me so much about you."
"Has he." he says with zero interest as his eyes flick to me. I shrug at him as it’s not technically true that I’ve been talking about him, unless you count that I mentioned I was married to a guy named Noah. I can hardly be truthful about him.
We settle in the living room, and I make tea while Jessica chatters about the weather and the local hiking trails and her own travels through New Zealand. Noah sits in the armchair across from her like a statue, most likely planning her demise.
I watch him from the kitchen, feeling heat build in my chest. This is foreplay to me.
The way Noah's jaw tightens when Jessica laughs too loudly, how his fingers drum once against the arm of his chair when she leans forward to emphasize a point.
The cold, calculating stillness of him like a panther as he watches her intrude on our space.
He's claiming me through his jealousy of the idea of sharing me, and I'm aroused by it.
Jessica, who clearly cannot read a room, tries to engage him. "So what brings you two to New Zealand? Vacation?"
"Yes," Noah says, his voice flat.
"How long are you staying?"
"Undecided."
"And what do you do for work?"
"Private investments."
Each answer is clipped, icy and designed to shut down conversation. But Jessica is either oblivious or determined, because she keeps pushing.
"You must be so proud of Chase. He was telling me about his work as a therapist. Such important work, understanding the human mind."
Noah's expression doesn't change, but I see his fingers tighten almost imperceptibly on the arm of his chair.
"Chase is no longer practicing," he says softly.
"Oh? That's a shame. He seems so passionate about it. He was telling me about this book idea he has…"
"There is no book," Noah interrupts, his voice dropping to a level where trouble is on the horizon, his limits are being met. "Chase isn't writing anything."
An awkward silence fills the room. Jessica blinks, clearly taken aback by his tone. "I…I just meant…"
"I know what you meant." Noah stands, using his height and build to command and fill the room. His eyes find mine across the space, and the look he gives me nearly burns me to ash. "I think it's time for you to leave."
"Noah," I start, but the protest is half-hearted. I want her gone too, as I want to see what comes next.
Jessica gathers her things quickly, her earlier friendliness replaced by obvious discomfort. "Right. Well. Lovely to meet you both. Chase, I'll…I'll see you around."
"No, you won’t," Noah says, folding his arms as he stares her down.
I walk her to the door, murmuring apologies she doesn't acknowledge. When I close the door behind her, I lean against it, adrenaline pumping through my body after watching Noah be challenged with a social situation in his own space and without his control.
When I walk back into the room, Noah is standing in the middle of the living room waiting for me.
"That was rude," I say quietly, testing him a little further.
"Do you think I care?" He moves toward me slowly, stalking me. "She was asking too many questions and trying to insert herself into our life."
"That’s how some people are. She was just being friendly."
"She was being intrusive." He's right in front of me now, his hand coming up to cup my jaw. "And you let her in. You told her about the book after we decided there was no book and you gave her access to information about us."
"I didn't tell her anything specific."
"You told her enough." His grip tightens, and I feel heat flood through me. "Do you know what happens to people who get too close? Who ask too many questions?"
My breath catches. Because I do know and it fascinates me.
There was Wade, and his father. The waiter, Luca. The guy he helped kill back in New York with the Kozlovs. Shit, there may be more I don’t even know about, people who existed one day and were simply gone the next.
"Noah," I whisper, my voice thick with something that isn't fear. "How many?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes. No. I don't know." My voice is shaking, but not with horror, I’m too turned on. "I just need to understand."
"You understand perfectly." He releases my jaw and steps back. "You have just ignored it, preferring to pretend nothing is happening."
He's right. I've been noting his behavior in my journal, analyzing his patterns, noting the correlation between perceived threats and sudden disappearances.
I've known from the start what he is, what he does, how far he'll go to keep me isolated and protected and his.
And instead of being repelled, I'm drawn closer.
Because this is what makes Noah so compelling and not despite the darkness, but because of it. The way he shapes the world around us to ensure nothing and no one can come between us.
"I don't want to leave you," I say suddenly, the words spilling out. "I don't want normal. I don't want anything except this."
Noah's expression doesn't change, but something flickers in his eyes like this confirms his control over me. I’m not dumb. I know Noah would love for me to fully be in his world, to bask in it.
"You are exactly where you're supposed to be, and I'm going to make sure you remember why you can't leave."
I really hope he doesn't make me wait.