55. Noah
NOAH
THREE YEARS AGO
“So…You doin’ okay?” Monty asks as we fasten our seatbelts so the plane can take off.
“I’m fine.”
I glance down at the Taco Bell bag in front of me.
Monty said we couldn’t eat in the truck because heaven forbid we get even a shred of lettuce on his clean interior.
I ended up getting a Baja blast freeze with a chicken quesadilla and a bean burrito, extra cheese, and extra red sauce.
Oh, and of course, cheesy fiesta potatoes.
Monty got one of those combo boxes with a cheesy Gordita crunch with no lettuce, chips, and cheese, and a beefy five-layer burrito.
After I said I was going to get a Baja Freeze, he deleted his cherry Pepsi from the order and got one of those instead. I can already tell from the smell that this is going to taste amazing but hurt like fucking hell later.
“Sir, I need you to please close up the food until we’re in the air. I don’t want you to choke during take off,” the flight attendant says as the cabin door makes the pressurized noise of fully closing.
Have I mentioned I actually hate flying?
“Sorry, sweetness,” Monty flirts as he tosses his burrito back into his box and watches her walk away.
He’s a good-looking guy and he knows it. We’ve gone out a couple of times to the bar. He normally was the one leaving with not one, but two chicks on his arm. I never minded though. There was only one woman on my mind, and none of them could ever compare to her.
He’s a year younger than me with light brown hair and even lighter brown eyes.
They look almost golden. He’s about the same height as me, but you can definitely tell he doesn’t get out much.
He’s on the thinner side, with skin paler than a damn ghost. I want to tease him about needing some sun, but then I glance at my arms and see that I’m not much better. Damn Michigan winters.
“Thanks again, Monty,” I tell him.
He looks over at me, tilting his head slightly before answering.
“No thanks needed. I should be thanking you, honestly.”
“What? Why me?” I ask, slightly stunned.
“I never leave my house anymore. Like, I mean, I do, but not for anything fun other than the few times we’ve gone out to the bar.
All of my work is done from home. I use DoorDash or Uber Eats for meals.
Occasionally, I force myself out to go to the grocery store, but honestly, I’m a cave dweller. This forced me to leave.”
“Well, I’m glad I could get you out of your cave, Monty. You really didn’t have to do all this though.”
The plane lurches forward as it pulls onto the runway.
The tarmac whizzes by as the plane picks up speed, and my stomach starts to drop.
The plane tilts upward lifting off the ground, and I swear my heart stops beating.
My eyes pinch shut as my fingers dig into the armrests of the chair.
I can feel my heart snaking up my throat causing it to feel like I’m choking.
Monty can clearly see the fear radiating off of me, so he decides to distract me.
“So, what are we going to do with him?” he asks, and I slowly crack one eye open.
“What? I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk about…”
“They’re up in the cockpit. The door is shut and it’s soundproof. I made sure of that when I got this plane.”
“I thought you would be the one flying since you have your license and all,” I tease as I feel the plane level out.
“I was debating on it, but after we talked about Taco Bell, I figured I’d rather be able to eat and chat instead of flying it myself. Plus, it’s a short flight.”
“How short?”
“Like two-ish hours. Don’t you remember flying there?”
“I don’t remember anything after you called me telling me that it might be her until I was standing outside that window to the ICU, looking into her room. It was horrible, Monty.”
“I know. I’m so fucking sorry, man. I thought we had finally found her.”
He pulls back out his beefy five-layer burrito and unwraps it. Holding it in one hand, he places his other on my knee and gives it a tight squeeze.
“We’ll find her, Noah. I won’t stop looking until I have answers for you. I promise.”
I can’t speak, my throat’s too tight for words. I only nod as he removes his hand and takes a bite of his burrito.
“Fuck that’s good. Eat your food before it gets cold…Well, colder.”
“You just couldn’t risk getting lettuce in your truck, huh?” I tease as I pull out my quesadilla and unwrap it on the table between us.
His plane is nice. Small, but functional.
There are six seats total. Two sets face each other, one on each side of the aisle with a table between each of the sets then two captain's chairs in the front. There are two TVs mounted on the ceiling, one at the front and one at the back. A small bathroom is at the rear of the plane and a small bed folds down on each side as well. Of course, there is a fully stocked mini fridge and mini bar as well, so we’re set.
“Hey, I paid good money to get that baby all shiny just last week. Respect the leather.”
“Then there’s my truck, where if you took a blacklight to it, I’m completely fucked,” I tell him seriously.
He stares at me for a moment before we both burst out laughing. We fall into a comfortable silence after that as we eat our cold Taco Bell. I feel like I’m back in college munching on Taco Bell with a stomach full of alcohol on my way home from another frat party.
“Can I ask you a question?” Monty asks as he pulls out his cheesy Gordita crunch and the chips and cheese.
I finish off my last bite of quesadilla before balling up the wrapper and tossing it into the bag. I hope the potatoes still taste just as good as they used to.
“Sure, shoot,” I tell him as I pop the lid off and take a bite. Yep, still good.
“So…James Parker.” He says that monsters name quieter, even though he said the area we are in is soundproof.
“What about him?”
“What did you ever do with him? I mean, I had a guy pick up the car and scrap it that night. I know you took him with you, but you threw his cell out into the water by the Blue Water Bridge…What about him?”
I glance toward the door to the cockpit then back to him. He leans forward silently begging me for more info.
“You know if I tell you this, it incriminates you, right?” I ask him.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Cut the lawyer jargon. Give me the good details.”
He rubs his hands together excitedly, and I can’t help but laugh.
I’m not going to lie, it honestly feels good that someone knows the full me.
Jeremy knows me to a point and we’re closer than brothers, but I never wanted him to bear this burden with me.
He hasn’t had the easiest life growing up, and if I have to keep him in the dark about my vigilante justice, so be it.
If I ever got caught, he would go down with me and I would never want that.
At least Monty is tech-savvy enough to be able to hide his involvement completely.
Plus, the dude isn’t squeaky clean himself.
I’m not one hundred percent sure if he’s ever killed someone himself, but I know damn well he’s been the reason more than a few people have been killed.
That doesn’t include the men he’s helped me hunt down.
“He’s in my basement,” I tell him before stuffing the last bites of the fiesta potatoes in my mouth.
“Your basement? You don’t have a basement. I’ve checked the blueprints on your house,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“That’s definitely not stalker-ish,” I tease.
“Noah, come on. Where is he?” he pleads.
“I told you, in my basement. My secret basement. It’s down a hidden staircase.”
“No shit?” he demands.
“No shit,” I laugh. “So years ago, I went to an estate sale and opened a random book. Inside was an old, folded-up piece of thin paper. I bought the book and rushed home, laid the paper out on my kitchen table, and discovered it was the blueprints the original architect made. I compared them to the ones you can find on the county website, but there was something on the hidden blueprint that wasn’t on the current ones. A hidden labyrinth.”
“Holy shit. No fucking way. Can I see it when we get back?” he asks, excitedly.
“Maybe. We’ll see. I've never shown it to anyone before…Well, no one that was allowed to keep breathing,” I laugh.
“So, he’s down there still? Why have you kept him alive all this time?” he asks before taking a long sip of his freezee. “Fuck, brain freeze,” he groans.
“I’m keeping him for her. I want her to be able to end him if that’s what she chooses.”
“Fuck roses and chocolates. You’re about to gift her the monster who ruined her life. And they say romance is dead?” he laughs. “Oh! Can you please tie a big ribbon on top of his head? Please?” he begs.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
I close my eyes after finishing my bean burrito. I want to try to catch at least a small power nap before we land. I think I’m going on forty seven hours without sleep. This might be my new record.
“Hey, Noah?” Monty says my name quietly. Probably worried I’m already asleep.
“Yeah?”
“I’m really glad you took my case two years ago.”
I crack an eye open and glance over at him. He’s sitting there, sipping on his freezee while scrolling on his phone.
Not many lawyers would have taken too kindly to what he did. The guy just walked in, flopped down into my chair, then slapped the stack of files three inches thick on my desk. Most would have turned him down, but I didn’t. Twenty-two charges, and not a single one stuck.
They weren’t anything too damning. Most were charges for hacking, trespassing, espionage, possession of illegal firearms, and my favorite, impersonating a government agent. I teased him, asking if he was Sam or Dean, but he didn’t get the reference.
“I’m glad you walked into my office and trusted me to be your lawyer,” I say honestly.
“Yeah, I mainly just needed your pretty face and law degree. I had the rest handled.”
I laugh at his answer. I grab my freezee and drink the last bit before tossing it into the bag with the other trash.
“I’m sure you did, Monty.”
“We make a pretty good pair, huh?” he asks.
“A pair of idiots, maybe.”
“I’m serious. I’m honestly glad that shit happened. We became really good friends because of it. I’d say that’s a win, no matter what.”
“I’ll take that win any day,” I say as I tilt my chair back and close my eyes. “Wake me when we get there.”
“Ten-four, Rubber Ducky.”