Chapter 27 Noah
Chapter Twenty-Seven
NOAH
This is going to be the day I die, and Summer can't even be bothered to be by my side while it happens.
Well, maybe it's not that she can't be bothered. I've been on a path of self-destruction for as long as I've been alive. It's the only thing I know. The only thing I've ever been taught to know.
Take power at any cost.
Even your life.
The car whips around, engine roaring, as I try to feel the bullet in my leg, footsteps on the ground growing louder.
I look over my shoulder to see Aiden drawing closer.
Fuck.
I dig deeper into my thigh.
I know the bullet didn't come out the other side, but I can't feel it. There's no way I'm going to be able to dig it out and run, but still, I grit my teeth harder, fingers pushing deeper.
At the very least, I have to stay alive long enough to see Summer one last time.
I glance over my shoulder again, Aiden getting too close to me.
I get to my knee and start crawling. More blood runs out of my body, pain exploding through my leg. I stop and roll onto my back when the pain gets too bad.
It doesn't feel like my day to die, but then again, what do I know? I didn't think I'd be here and in the middle of bleeding out. I didn't think Summer would be the one to shoot me and leave me bleeding behind.
Maybe she's right, and I should've gone with her.
But then this wouldn't be about to end. I wouldn't be about to die.
I don't want to die.
Though, some days there's this large voice in the back of my mind telling me that I should be dead. That it's strange I'm still alive after all the things I've done, the enemies I've made, and every other horrible part of my life.
I'm alive, though. At least for a little while longer.
Aiden stops in front of me, his gun raising slightly like he's not sure if he's going to shoot me or not.
I wouldn't be surprised if he did. Summer's wrong to think that her brother wants me whole to beat me back down.
My head is spinning too much to get up. Not even the rain beginning to drizzle down is breathing new life into me.
I try to struggle to my feet—fuck, even to get off my back—but there's a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging me back down.
Aiden's foot lands in the center of my chest. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?"
"Fuck you." I swat at his hand, wishing I had some other weapon on me. A knife I could drive into his foot, for example.
I could cut his Achilles tendon.
The idea is appealing, but I don't have anything on me that would do the job, and right now the blood loss is making it feel like I can't even lift my hands off the rough pavement.
Aiden leans into the foot on my chest more.
Each breath feels ragged, my ribs aching beneath his boot. He's going to break ribs soon.
Summer was wrong. He's not going to keep me alive. Not when he could kill me now and be done with it.
He can take back the control I've taken from him. He can have all of New York, and he doesn't have to worry about anyone standing up against him again.
I feel sick.
At least Summer is going to be safe.
Aiden stares down at me, not saying a word, looking like he doesn't know what to do with me. He digs his heel in a little deeper. "This isn't the way I want this to happen."
So, she knows her brother.
Not that it matters. That dark cloud is back around my vision, and I feel like I can't hold on anymore.
The black edges get closer together as Aiden says something, but I can't make out the words. Not when it feels like I'm underwater.
I close my eyes, feeling like a thousand little men are hammering against the inside of my skull.
Summer doesn't see it yet, but once I'm gone, she will.
It's better for her this way.
\\\*
I shouldn't be alive right now.
That's the first thought I have when I wake up and look around the cell.
I'm on a bed. It's thin and lumpy, but it's better than the stone floor of being chained to the wall. Shackles are already hanging there. It'd be the perfect place to keep me.
With a groan, I sit up and scrub a hand over my face.
Everything hurts, but there's a bandage on my nose, holding it in place. As I trail my fingers over my face, I feel the bandages there, the little butterfly shapes keeping the cuts held together.
Why the hell would they stitch me up?
Unless Summer is right and Aiden's plan is to keep me here until I'm fully healed, and then he's going to start killing me.
And when he does, he's going to take his time with it. Payback for the torture I put him through. If he does even half of what I did to him to me when I'm in this state, I'm going to die a hell of a lot sooner. It's not going to be satisfying.
There are some voices in the hallway, but I can't make out the words they're saying fully. If I had to guess, they're talking about me and what's going to happen to me.
The voices go quiet as I get up from the bed, the rickety springs of the metal frame squealing.
I pace around the small room, looking at the scratch marks on the wall. It looks like someone was dragging their nails there.
I don't want to think about how long that person might have been in here if they were able to make marks in the stone that deep. I'm not going to be here that long.
Nobody is coming to save me, though. My own people—dozens of them from the fight I saw and the rumors Hector has passed on—have turned against me.
Hopefully, Hector is hunting down the traitors now.
There's a heavy thud—the turn of a lock, it sounds like—and then the door is shoved open.
Aiden stands there with his arms crossed, a smug smile on his face. "Never thought I'd see the day when you were in here."
"Sounds like you're admitting I was going to be the one to kill you." I pace as far from him as I can get, not liking the look of the men with guns I see hovering just outside the door.
He leans against the doorframe and shrugs. "You wanted it more. I have other things to live for, and you have nothing. Everyone you might have cared about is gone. Robert is dead. And from what I hear, most of your own people have turned and are rising up against you."
I shrug, not going to give him a clear answer or any of it. The less it bothers me, the more it's going to bother him.
His lips twitch, nearly pressing into a thin line before he schools himself into an expression of neutrality.
"Wonder what kind of person you'd be if you had literally anything else to live for.
Instead, you've spent endless years being pissed off and looking for revenge over something I did because I thought it was what my father would have wanted. "
"So, you don't deserve to pay for that?" I move closer to him, wanting to get my hands around his neck and choke the life out of him.
He'd deserve it. He's earned it over the years.
But that wouldn't be satisfying, and I'd die before he ever did.
The men in the hall shift to be more visible, as if reminding me of the obvious threat they present.
I don't need the reminder, fuckholes. The cell is enough.
Aiden scowls at me, stepping inside the cell. "I've paid for a lot of things I've done, in case you don't remember the shit you put me and my family through."
"Pot, meet kettle."
He grinds his teeth, a red flush coming to his face as his hands drop to his sides, balling into fists.
I hope he hits me. If he does, then I might be able to get a few shots in before his meatheads rush in here and break us apart. I might be able to make my death worth it since it's not worth anything right now.
Since it's never going to be worth anything, thanks to the way Summer chose to end this.
Aiden smirks, hands relaxing. "Hope you have a good stay here. It's going to be a long time before you're healthy enough to take the kind of beating you gave me."
He shuts the door behind him with a loud slam.
I drop down onto the bed, the last of the strength draining from my body.
All I want to do is curl up on my side and pretend that this isn't happening right now, but I can't.
Maybe I can, just long enough to feel a little bit better, and then I can start finding a way to get out of this fucking place.
Except knowing him, I'm sure he's watching my every move. He's likely got cameras on me, and while showing him a little weakness isn't going to change anything, curling up would be like admitting defeat.
It'd be showing him that I'm not going to fight for my life when he comes for me, and that's just wrong.
I'm going to fight like hell.
If he's going to kill me, he's going to feel it. He's going to be lucky to come out of it alive too.
There's nothing left to do but stare at the wall across from me and wait for this all to come to an end.
\\\*
The door swings open after what feels like an eternity of sitting there and staring. There's only so many times I can count the cracks in the stone before I'm going to go insane.
I don't think it's been more than a day or two since I was shot, but I don't know. Aiden didn't tell me when he came to see me earlier, and there aren't any windows.
For a moment, I barely register who's standing there looking at me. I don't recognize her. Not in the tight black dress she's wearing and the way her hair is pulled back from her face in a tight bun.
It's not like her at all.
Gone are the leggings and the tight top showing off her curves.
Instead, she looks like she's getting ready to go to a funeral. She probably is. After all, those people died on the pier. Dozens of them, I'm guessing. She and her family would show up there and present a united front.
How fucking touching.
Summer stands to the side, the door opening wider. "I'm letting you go. I'm going to get you out, and then after this, you're never going to bother me again. You can't, because I can't handle sitting back and watching you try to kill yourself. Not anymore."
"Summer—"
She holds up a hand, tears springing into her eyes. "No. Just...just don't. I can't with you. Not anymore. Not when I know that this bloodthirsty need for revenge is always going to be what takes priority in your mind."
I stalk past her, stopping when I'm in the hall. "Well, maybe we should talk about all the places where you've fucked me over. You shot me and left me for dead."
"I knew Aiden wasn't going to kill you. That's not the way he wants to end this.
Not even a little bit." Summer's voice is tight, a haunted look in her eyes.
"I wasn't leaving you for dead. I was making sure you'd be alive.
I was leaving you so I could come back and save you. I'm giving you a chance."
I spin to face her, crowding her against the wall, hands planted on either side of her face. "And why the fuck would you do that when you've proven that you don't give a fuck about me?"
Summer glares up at me, looking like she's seconds away from trying to kick my ass. "After everything I've done for you, after the way I stayed with you even when I could've left, you're still going to say I don't give a fuck about you?"
"You don't."
"Fine. Believe whatever the fuck you want. I'm done with this, and I'm done trying to keep you alive." Summer wriggles her way out from under my arm, stalking down the hall, her heels clicking against the floor.
I follow her because I have no other option. I can't lock myself back in that cell and wait for the moment Aiden comes to kill me.
The pain in my leg is nearly blinding as I limp after her down the hall, eyeing the cameras. "You're going to get in shit for this."
"He won't do anything to me. Not after the way you've held me captive for so long. He's only just got me back in the family. He'll give me hell for it one of these days, but at least you're going to be alive." She doesn't so much as spare me a glance over her shoulder.
I stare at her back, still trying to figure her out. Maybe she really wasn't shooting me and leaving me for dead, but there's no denying that she knew she was going to betray me. Here she is, standing here and telling me that I'm going to be alive.
She still doesn't understand.
It's not worth it without her, and it doesn't sound like she's going to choose me.
She's just like all the others.
Summer says nothing else to me, and I can't bring myself to say anything to her either. After all that's happened, what is there to say?
We're done. This is the nail in the coffin, the one last chance for her to turn and say that she's going to come with me. That despite everything, she wants to be with me.
But she doesn't.
Summer walks me to the garage and hands me a set of keys, barely looking at me as I get into a sleek black sedan. As the garage door rolls up, revealing the sun shining above, I want to say something to her.
Maybe ask her to come with me.
I'm not a man who begs.
Summer might've been the one good thing in my life, but I know better than to stay where I'm not wanted. I refuse to keep making a fool of myself for her.
I'm not going to beg her to love me.
Instead, I turn up the music and floor it. I'm not going to waste time fighting for someone who doesn't want me, and I'm certainly not going to stay there and wait for them to kill me.
As I drive away, I can't shake the little voice in the back of my mind telling me I'm going to regret this.
What part I'm going to regret, I don't know, but I don't have time to think about that.
Summer might think she's setting me free and giving me time to heal and disappear. She might think she's doing something that will make up for the way she betrayed me. The way everyone in my life has betrayed me.
It doesn't.
It never will.
If anything, what she's done now has only added more fuel to the fire.