Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
NOAH (PRESENT)
Amalia had fallen asleep in my arms shortly after, her breathing now even as I continued drawing small circles against her bare back. She usually wasn’t much of a cuddler—always preferring her space—but I loved that she hadn’t moved from my side, her arms and legs clutched to my side.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep despite it being well past midnight and knowing how trying tomorrow would be.
What if all of this was a dream and I woke up tomorrow, back in the same cell where I’d spent so much of my childhood and the memories of her telling me she loved me was simply that—a memory.
I gently pulled her tighter against me, trying not to think about how empty my arms would feel without her in them.
On top of that, the thought of facing Jamal and telling him everything plagued my mind. Where did I even start? Would he understand why I’d kept everything a secret? Would he forgive me?
Or would he never speak to me again and cast me out of his life? Especially after what happened to his wife a few weeks ago.
Even if he excused me for keeping my connection to my father from him, would he forgive me for what happened to Sienna?
My brain imagined all the possible worst outcomes because they felt like the most plausible scenarios. And I didn’t know if I’d be able to survive it.
When Ayoub’s lawyers had initially informed me that I was meant to become his guardian, I’d almost run for the hills because I wasn’t a paternal figure. I was barely a kid myself.
Besides, with the father I had, how could I even be put in a position to raise a kid?
Fun uncle I could do. But becoming a parental figure wasn’t something I’d ever truly thought of. Maybe in a very far future, I’d come to terms with what had happened to me as a kid and would be willing to revisit the thought of having my own, but I wasn’t there at the time.
But the moment I’d laid eyes on Jamal lying in a hospital bed, I knew I couldn’t abandon him because of my own fears. And if I was being honest with myself, I also felt an immense amount of guilt because even if I hadn’t set fire to the flame that ravaged their home, I was responsible for his parents’ deaths.
My father had meant to send me a message—stop meddling in my affairs and with my empire.
Ayoub and I had been so close to finally unraveling my father’s cartel until the informant I’d secured to testify against him turned up dead. Then a few hours later, my phone had rung with an anonymous text message to inform me that I’d regret ever coming after them.
Next thing I knew, I was racing through the streets of Sardenya toward Aguerd’s house, only to find it crumbling under vivid flames.
I’d tried to get everyone out, but I’d barely gotten Jamal out of there when the roof collapsed, leaving me no chance to go back inside.
Looking after Jamal had been hard at first, especially with his recurrent night terrors from reliving the fire. I’d aimed to do my best to help him through his loss without crossing the line or taking over the place his parents had and would always have.
I hadn’t known Ayoub and Nina for very long, but I’d always made sure to share everything I knew about them or the moments we’d share with Jamal so that he felt them even if they were gone.
And over the years, I’d grown very fond of him and considered him as if he were my own. He became family and was all I had for a long time, until I met the woman currently sleeping peacefully in my arms.
So the thought of losing him was unfathomable.
A heavy sigh left my chest and I pushed the thought aside, knowing that it would be to no avail, making my mind run a hundred miles an hour with countless scenarios when I’d know my answer soon enough.
Instead, I watched the mounted wall clock next to the wooden door tick the hours away until darkness gave away to light, a sliver illuminating the bedroom.
I felt Amalia stirring next to me and pulled her tighter against me, hunching down to press kisses all over her face. She kept her eyes closed, but I knew she was already awake and fighting a smile.
My hand that was on her back drifted down and over the curvature of her ass, brushing featherlight touches with my fingertips.
“I know you’re awake,” I said with a kiss to her lips.
She groaned against my lips.
I moved my hand farther down and brought her body further up against mine.
Her groan quickly turned into a low moan when my middle and index finger brushed against her entrance from the back, gliding inside ever so slightly and so easily with her being wet already.
“Are you sure you’re not awake?” I whispered against Amalia’s lips, still pressed to mine. I swirled some of her wetness already pooling there around my finger and ran it up to her back entrance.
I then pushed the tip of my finger through her tight rim and her eyes popped wide open.
“You don’t—” A moan fell from her lips and cut her off as I pushed my finger inside farther. “You don’t play fair,” she managed to get out through a strained voice.
I softly nipped at her bottom lip. “I never claimed to play fair,” I said, resting my forehead against hers.
With her leg already draped over my front, she grinded her wet pussy against the outer side of my thigh as I slowly worked my finger in and out of her. Her green eyes stared intently into mine, and my other hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer.
Her breath feathered against my lips and my cock throbbed at attention from the sound of her soft moans, the feel of her against me, the feel of her wrapped so tightly around my finger.
A groan escaped my lips when her hand skated over my chest and she gingerly wrapped her fingers around me, squeezing.
She swiped her thumb over the pre-cum already leaking at the tip and smeared it down my length.
I was about to roll on top of her, wanting to be inside her, when a loud knock on the iron door resounded in the house, breaking the moment.
We immediately both jolted at attention. Amalia swiftly reached under the bed and came back with two guns in hand.
I looked at her, bewildered.
“What?” she questioned, handing me one.
I huffed out a laugh and grabbed it from her. “Did you have guns there all along?”
She raised a brow. “Do you think I’d come to a safe house unarmed?”
“No, but.” I shook my head. “Never mind.”
She quickly got up and pulled my shirt over her head and slipped her underwear and pants back on. She turned back to find me staring at her and smiling.
Her green eyes locked on mine, a confused look in them. “Noah, why are you smiling? Get up.” She chucked a clean shirt at my head and I caught it.
Pulling the black T-shirt over my head, I said, “Nothing, I just like seeing you with my clothes on.”
Another knock came on the front door.
She threw open another closet door, grabbing something from inside before facing me again and tossing another piece of clothing my way—this time linen pants. “We don’t have time for this. The person outside might be trying to kill us.”
I got out of bed and pulled the bottoms on. “Would someone trying to kill us knock on the door first?” I deadpanned, raising a brow.
She let out an annoyed breath and checked her gun before leaving the room without another word.
I laughed under my breath and followed her out. I hurried my steps and pushed her behind me, glaring at her above my shoulder before she could protest.
We neared the front door when another knock reverberated against the iron door.
“Who is it?” I shouted for the person behind the door to hear, my gun pointed at them. The nice thing about iron doors was that it didn’t matter if the person behind was an intruder and armed. They couldn’t shoot and actually hit us.
Amalia slapped my shoulder. “What are you doing?” she hissed under her breath. “Do you want to get us killed?”
I peered at her over my shoulder and narrowed my eyes at her. “Dramatic, much,” I mouthed to her.
“It’s me, open up,” a voice yelled from behind the door.
Jamal.
I lowered my gun and moved to unlock the door, when Amalia’s fingers shot out to grip my upper arm.
“Who is it?” she asked.
I gently placed a hand on hers and faced her. “It’s my nephew Jamal.”
Her eyes softened at that and I saw a tinge of nervousness in them. I’d never seen her nervous about anything and it brought a half-smile to my face. It was the first time she was meeting someone important in my life.
I just wished it were under different circumstances.
After unlocking the door, I pulled it ajar to find Jamal, Kai, and Valentina standing on the other side, all staring at me and Amalia.
Before I could usher them in, Valentina strode in with a large black bag over her shoulder, swiftly removing her shoes and giving me a curt nod before pushing past us.
Kai was next to step inside. He gave me a large smile and brandished his hand forward. “Nice to see you again, Noah. You’ve been a little MIA.” He glanced at Amalia over my shoulder. “Guess maybe this is why.”
I shook my head and let out a small laugh. “You too, Kai,” I replied, taking his hand in mine, the other landing on his shoulder to give it a small squeeze.
Jamal didn’t really have friends growing up since we’d spent the majority of his years after the accident in Blackwell at the Academy, so I’d always liked Kai especially because he seemed to bring a lighter side out of Jamal.
Finally, I came face to face with my nephew, a mix of concern and apprehension painting his features. But I ignored it for now—even if it was only for the next few seconds before everything changed—and wrapped my arm over his shoulders.
I grabbed the large black duffel he held in his right hand and pulled him into a side hug, tugging him farther inside. “It’s good to see you, favorite nephew,” I greeted him, squeezing the back of his head.
We never really were physically affectionate people—I’d even go as far as to say we avoided most of it—but I’d take any opportunity right now before the seemingly inevitable.
It took him a few seconds before he placed his free arm around my waist. He gently clapped my back a few times in response, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, you too 3ami ? 1 ,” he huffed out, shaking his head.
Amalia moved to close the door while I guided Jamal into the living area where Kai and Valentina were standing, their bags at their feet and arguing in a hushed tone.
The moment we came into view, both of them snapped their heads up and Kai immediately plastered a smile on his face.
“Is everything all right?” Jamal asked them, raising a brow and pulling himself away from my side.
I instantly wished I could rewind the last few seconds and keep repeating in a loop to avoid the upcoming conversation. I’d evaded it over the last twenty years and I knew I had to tell him, but I felt overwhelmed.
Although I didn’t regret telling Amalia everything—a part of me even felt relief after—it didn’t stop the conversation from emotionally and mentally draining me, especially after being off my regimen for so long.
I wasn’t one for communicating my feelings and most of the time I avoided them—even in therapy. It was just easier to do so than having to face them, despite knowing it was the better option.
But avoidance could only get you so far.
Kai cleared his throat. “Yes, everything is impeccably fine.” He placed his attention on me. “Noah, will you finally tell us who that beautiful woman next to you is?”
Amalia was standing next to me, the side of her hand brushing against mine. I subtly interlocked my pinky finger with hers, knowing she wasn’t a big fan of public displays of affection, and looked over at her while I said my next words.
“This is Amalia,” I told them, introducing her because there wasn’t an appropriate enough word to describe who she was or what she meant to me.
Girlfriend, partner, love of my life didn’t feel good enough because she was so much more. But calling her my everything in front of practical strangers to her felt a tad too intimate.
Besides, she’d probably hit me if I did.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Amalia,” Kai said with a large smile on his face. He held out his hand and when she grabbed it, he raised it and brushed his mouth across her knuckles.
I might have been slightly jealous under different circumstances if I hadn’t known this was just who Kai was and if he wasn’t already completely enamored with the woman who was standing right next to him.
But it didn’t mean his gesture didn’t grate against my nerves. “All right, Kai. Pleasures have been had,” I told him, a sharper edge to my tone.
Amalia lightly chuckled under her breath as she removed her hand from his grasp. She placed a hand on my bicep, glancing between Jamal and me. “I’ll let you two talk,” she said before squeezing my fingers once. She then gave Jamal a small nod and made her way to the courtyard.
“Yeah, we’ll… we’ll go get to know your girlfriend,” Kai said, nudging Valentina to follow where Amalia was heading.
Once they were all outside, the door closing behind them, Jamal faced me and my stomach dropped at the expression on his face.
“Ready to tell me what’s wrong?”
Guess this is the end of me trying to avoid this conversation.
I let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through my hair, and placed his bag, which I was still holding, against the wall in the entry hallway.
Dread crept up my spine as I headed for the living room. “I have to tell you something, and…” I blew out a breath. “Let’s sit,” I told him, settling on one of the couches.
The tension in the room climbed to a suffocating level and I kept my gaze fixed on the floor for a moment before eventually meeting Jamal’s worried gaze, finding him sitting on the other sofa.
“You’re scaring me, man. What is it?” Jamal urged me on.
I stared up at the ceiling before meeting his gaze again.
You can do this Noah, then he’ll make his decision.
“I don’t really know where to start or how to even tell you this. You might hate me after and I wouldn’t blame you because I probably would feel the same way, but I need you to know one thing.” I paused, taking a deep breath to try to dislodge the heaviness that weighed down my chest. “I’m sorry.”
Jamal’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Noah, you’re not making any sense.”
“Can you promise me that despite anything I say, you’ll let me tell you everything?” I asked, needing to hear him say the words. It was already taking every ounce of energy in me having to tell him. I’d never be able to get through a single sentence if he interrupted me in between.
“Wh—” he started, but I cut him off.
“Just promise me,” I pleaded.
He stayed quiet for a moment, but the look on my face eventually made him relent in my favor. “Fine. I promise.”
I took a final deep breath and told him everything. From being born a Barrera, to why I’d escaped. I told him about my father and my childhood, about my mother and Reda.
I didn’t leave any details out. I unloaded everything I could think of because I was done keeping secrets.
Through it all, his face stayed impassive as he kept his promise and listened.
I didn’t know if that was better or worse. When I’d told Amalia, I’d wanted her anger, but with Jamal, I didn’t know what would be easier.
His anger or his impassiveness, because in both instances, they weren’t something I wanted to receive from him.
But his mask faltered when I revealed the truth about his parents, about what truly happened. He’d been aware that my father was responsible, but he hadn’t known why.
A loaded silence fell upon us once I finished, a whirlwind of emotions displayed on Jamal’s face.
I wanted to tell him how sorry I was over and over again, but my sorrys wouldn’t erase the years of lies or the impact my legacy had on his past.
The only thing I could do right now was wait for him to make his decision, to react the way he deemed fit. I would like to say I was prepared for any outcome, but in reality, I wasn’t.
After minutes that felt like they’d stretched into hours, a cloak of anger swarmed his irises and he stood up. Without a word or glance in my direction, he walked away and out into the courtyard, the iron door clicking shut behind him.
I wanted to stop him, but I stayed rooted in my spot. Jamal was rarely someone who lashed out when he was angry, although that might have been easier for me since then I’d know how he was actually feeling.
I’d normally force him to talk to me, but I knew he needed his space and I’d give it to him. My ease and need to know where his head was at wasn’t a priority right now, no matter how gut-wrenching seeing him walk away was.
The stifling stillness that ensued after his exit sent sadness gripping me by the throat. I closed my eyes, soreness growing behind my eyelids.
I brought my hands up and gripped my hair, hoping to alleviate the ache in my chest. I wanted to scream, to break things, but I wasn’t entitled to.
This wasn’t about me.
Logically, I knew I wasn’t responsible for my past. I didn’t make my father do this to his family, but it didn’t relieve my guilt. For some reason, it made it worse. I tried to control my breathing, but each lungful of air became harder to inhale.
This doesn’t mean he’s leaving you. He just needs time.
He’s not abandoning you. He just needs time.
He’s not…
No matter how much I was trying to convince myself otherwise, nothing guaranteed that he wouldn’t. With my eyes still closed, I threw my head back against the wall behind me and brought my hands down to grip my thighs, hoping it might help ground me.
Yeah, that isn’t working either.
I could feel the harsh sound of my breathing, but the constant echo of my voice inside my head drowned it.
I kept trying to breathe until a familiar touch graced both sides of my face and when I opened my eyes, I was met with the most beautiful shade of green.
1 ? Uncle.