24. Zoey
ZOEY
T he container slipped out of my hands, and I barely registered it hitting the ground.
Kyler had called me earlier, hinting not very subtly that Noah needed cheering up.
So I cooked steak and potatoes. We hadn’t shared enough meals for me to be sure it was his favorite, but the man liked red meat, so I figured it was a safe choice.
And I made a lava cake. Because chocolate fixed everything, right?
The flashback hit with such force that the world around me blurred and receded, leaving me in a tunnel of memories and utter silence.
George’s face loomed over me, his sneer etched deep into my memory.
White-hot pain exploded in my jaw that had me reeling, even though the moment was long past. I could almost taste the copper tang of blood, my tongue seeking out the gap where my back molar used to be before he’d knocked it out.
“Shit, Zoey!” Kyler’s voice broke through the fog invading my mind.
“Ky, call the cops,” Noah said.
“Already on it.”
I watched Noah move closer, but my feet retreated of their own accord. When I pulled away, his eyes filled with hurt. The sting of that expression was even worse than the memory of the blow I’d just witnessed. But I couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the cold dread that wrapped around me.
The two men on the ground were moaning, one clutching his face where a trickle of blood seeped through his fingers.
They looked like they couldn’t even throw a decent punch, yet Noah had just decked one with a force that spoke of raw power and barely controlled rage.
My heart stuttered at the sight. That was not the Noah I knew.
Noah wasn’t a monster. Was he?
“Police are on their way!” Kyler called as he paced with his phone pressed to his ear. The tight tension in his words was so different from his usual easygoing charm.
“Talk to me,” Noah pleaded, his blue eyes searching mine for something I wasn’t sure I could give. There was a desperation in his tone that reached me even through the static filling my ears and turning his words into an indecipherable buzz.
“Can’t,” I choked out. It was all too much—the violence, the blood. It all culminated in one massive flashback. Noah needed answers I couldn’t provide, comfort I couldn’t offer. Not when my mind was a scrambled mess, fighting to escape a past that refused to let go.
Time passed in inconsistent blasts rather than a smooth transition. I stood out in the parking lot, the food cooling at my feet. I sat in my still-parked car, knuckles tight on the steering wheel. Noah watched me from a careful distance.
Tremors racked through me. The car door was still open, a gaping maw that seemed as confused by my frozen state as I was.
Sam and Christian arrived. Their figures seemed to materialize from the blurred boundaries of reality, further distorting the already erratic passage of time.
Christian made his way across the lot to where Noah was speaking to the cops. The alpha was listening to Noah, but he never took his steady gaze from me.
Sam pulled me away from Christian’s intense stare when he called my name, his tone laced with worry. I felt the vehicle dip as he leaned into it, assessing my condition with a quick glance.
“Ky phoned,” Sam said. “He said Noah told him to get me. Are you okay to talk?”
I shook my head. Words were strangers to me now, slipping through my grasp like wraiths of smoke.
“Okay, you don’t have to say anything,” Sam said calmly. “I’m going to drive you back to Heather’s. You’re safe, sweetheart.”
He strode over to Noah and Noah’s father.
Even from this distance, I could see their exchange was brief.
Noah nodded, his gaze never detaching from me.
He seemed to be seeking a lifeline across an ocean of turmoil.
Coping with my own emotional state was difficult; there was no way I could handle his as well.
“Let’s go,” Sam said, returning to the car with purpose. He guided me from the driver’s seat into the passenger side, murmuring soothing words the whole time.
As we pulled away, I could feel Noah’s eyes on me.
Sam’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw set in a grim line as he navigated through the streets. “Those men you saw? George sent them. They came for Noah with a gun. Those weren’t good men, Zoey. Noah didn’t hit a defenseless man.”
I gasped, the sound sharp and painful in my throat. Tears blurred my vision as a tidal wave of frustration crashed over me. George’s relentless pursuit, his refusal to let me find peace, was suffocating.
“Zoey, I’m sorry,” Sam added, his voice thick with emotion.
But I barely heard him. My mind was reeling. Noah, a man who had shown me nothing but kindness, was now being targeted. And it was all because of me.
“I… I can’t,” I sobbed.
“Hey, this is not your fault. You hear me?” Sam reached over tentatively before gently resting his hand on my shaking arm.
But his reassurances were a language I could no longer comprehend. All I could think about was Noah, the hurt I’d caused, and the danger I’d brought to his door.
“Sam, I have to do something,” I said. “I can’t let him get hurt because of me.”
“Zoey, don’t talk like that. You’re not responsible for that bastard’s actions.”
I knew the truth, though. As long as I was around, Noah would never be safe. Whatever it took, whatever the cost to my own heart, I had to protect him.
Even if it meant walking away.
I spent the rest of the evening in an exhausted state of hypervigilance, standing at Heather’s window and scanning the street for anyone who didn’t belong.
Sam had taken Roland to his place, and I was glad he did. I hated my son seeing how weak I was. It was better for him to be with Sam. My fear would only feed Ro’s anxiety.
Heather had drawn me a bath, and the aroma of lavender and the warm water soothed some of the tension in my muscles. When I slipped between the cool sheets, I was utterly exhausted and tumbled straight into sleep.
The shrill ring of the phone jerked me out of sleep. I fumbled around on the nightstand, hoping it was Noah. Without looking at the screen, I answered.
“Hello?”
“Zoey.” It wasn’t Noah’s familiar, warm voice. No, this voice was cold and sharp like a blade.
“George.” I said his name like a curse, and a surge of adrenaline replaced the fog of sleep.
“I’m calling to give you a friendly warning,” he said, and I could hear the smirk in his tone. “The next men I send won’t fail.”
I clenched my jaw to keep my voice steady. I would not let him hear me tremble. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Because you’re mine, Zoey!”
That phrase should’ve been endearing. Comforting, even. It was when Noah said it. But from George, it was a chain, a shackle. Bile crept up my throat.
“Stop it!” My shout tore through the quiet night, a ragged, desperate sound that I barely recognized as my own. “What do you want from me, George? What do I have to do to be free of you?”
“Oh, Zoey,” he said, his tone feigning sympathy while his words cut sharp. “It’s simple. Leave the boxer, leave Boldercrest, and give me Roland.”
“Are you out of your mind?” My hands shook, the phone almost slipping from my grasp. “I will never let you take my son.”
“How much is your freedom worth to you? I’ll be damned if any other man raises my son. I can’t stand the thought of him covered with another man’s scent.” He sounded like a child throwing a temper tantrum because someone else was playing with his favorite toy.
“Roland is not some possession to be bargained with,” I snapped. Anger and fear battled within me, each fighting for dominance. I paced the bedroom, needing to release the nervous energy brewing and bubbling.
“Then come back to me with Roland, or enjoy your so-called freedom without him,” George’s tone grew colder and more calculating. “Make your choice, Zoey. But remember, if we go to court, I’ll win. I always win.” It was like a physical blow, leaving me reeling in its wake.
The bedroom door slammed open, the sudden noise jarring me. Heather stood there, chest heaving, her face filled with concern.
“Tick tock, the clock’s ticking. You need to make your choice,” George snarled, “or I’ll make it for you.” The line went dead before I could muster a response.
Heather’s presence barely registered as the phone slipped from my nerveless fingers and clattered onto the hardwood floor. A choked gasp escaped my lips. My knees buckled, and I crumpled onto the edge of the bed,
“Zoey?” Heather hovered by my side.
A painful sob tore through my chest, raw and unrestrained. Fear, anger, and desperation threatened to consume me whole.