Chapter 9 #3
“I don’t know. I’m guessing either they didn’t even ask, or he hid the files. Maybe he had them on a USB, so they wouldn’t have been on the computer at all. Anyway, Ken had a good story about how I was just this disgruntled employee he’d recently fired, and I was trying to get him in trouble.”
From there, I hear about piece of shit Ken, and how he had the fucking balls to ask Noelle to come back to work one more time. Don’t ruin your career over this, he told her when she finally answered one of his calls. Just come back to work, and we can forget this ever happened.
She didn’t take him up on his offer. And after that, things got even worse.
Noelle applied for at least twenty theater jobs throughout the Pacific Northwest and was rejected from all of them.
Most of the employers didn’t give her a reason, save for one—an artistic director who explained when Noelle called to follow up, “I worked with Ken Donaldson for years. If he says you’re trouble, that’s all I need to know. ”
And while Noelle was dealing with being effectively blackballed in an industry she’d worked in for years, she also had to put up with an onslaught of messages and photos from Ken. All from anonymous numbers, of course, because that asshole was too smart to use his own phone.
“I went to the police,” she recalls. “I had a log of the messages, the photos… but they said the numbers were from burner phones. So there was no way to trace them. And honestly… I don’t think they wanted to help me.
Not really. Ken’s really well known, he even worked on Broadway for a while.
So he has a lot of clout. And I… don’t.”
Because of her boss’s influence in the industry, Noelle’s so-called friends turned their backs on her, too.
Maybe some of them believed her, maybe not.
But none of them were willing to put their necks out to help her—whether it was finding a new job, trying to find new evidence to show the police, or offering a place to stay when she couldn’t afford the rent on her city apartment anymore.
“Jaz would have,” Noelle clarifies. “She would have gone ballistic on Ken. But it could have hurt her career. She’s worked so hard to get where she is…
I couldn’t take the chance. So I just told her I’d quit, but I’d find something new soon.
And she’s in Manhattan, so she doesn’t really know about the theater scene out here.
She wouldn’t have heard the rumors about me. ”
A month on, Noelle was jobless, friendless, on the verge of having to leave her apartment, and receiving harassing messages and photos from Ken almost every day. But the last straw was the night someone broke into her apartment and left a photo of her sitting on the dining room table.
Certain the police would finally help, Noelle called them again.
But instead, they claimed there was no evidence of a break-in, and one asshole officer even accused her of fabricating the whole story so she could post about it on social media.
“Wouldn’t be the first time someone lied to go viral,” he told her.
“You want to be famous, go ahead. But don’t waste police resources, and don’t lie about innocent men to do it. ”
I’m about two seconds from tracking Ken Donaldson down and beating the shit out of him by the time Noelle’s story winds down.
Her head hanging low, she stares at the floor as she finishes with, “I couldn’t stay in Portland anymore.
I couldn’t afford it, and honestly, I was scared.
So I started looking for someplace affordable to live.
Then I remembered driving through Williston a few years ago, and I thought it seemed nice.
This apartment was available, and the job at the diner…
so—” She shrugs. “It seemed like fate was sending me a message.”
Though I’m beyond furious at everything she just told me, I rely on my years of experience in the Army to keep my emotions locked down. For now. But once I’m back at B and A, I fully intend to take my anger out on a punching bag in the gym.
For now, though, my priority is keeping calm and convincing Noelle that having Blade and Arrow help her is the best plan of action. So I take a few steadying breaths before I say, “Maybe it was. Fate, I mean.”
Noelle lifts her head to look at me. “Do you really think so?”
“I do.” And the more I think about it, the more certain I am. “First of all, you met me.” I flash her a little smile as I say it, hoping to put her more at ease. “So that’s a good thing.”
A glimmer of a smile moves across her face. “I suppose that’s true.”
“From my side of things, it’s definitely true.”
“I thought moving here was a good thing,” she says. “Meeting you, and finding this apartment, and I really like my job at the diner… it’s not the same as being a stage manager, but I like it.”
She sighs. “It was one thing when it was just the texts. But now… If he’s hacking into the TVs where I work, what’s next? What if he figures out how to put a video on the movie screen in town park next time? Or”—she shivers—“what if he breaks into my apartment again?”
My molars nearly grind to dust at the thought. “He’s not breaking into your apartment, Noelle. That’s not happening.”
Her worried gaze meets mine. “I know you made it safer, Webb. But there are always ways…”
“No.” My voice is firm. “There is no way that piece of shit is getting close to you again. I won’t allow it.”
“But—”
“I can take care of this. All of it.” Before Noelle can respond, I continue, “We’ll put extra security here. Twenty-four-hour surveillance. And I’ll be here for your protection. So if he even thinks—” I stop. “Actually, better yet, you can come stay at Blade and Arrow.”
Noelle frowns. “Webb. That seems—”
“Not in my apartment. Not unless you want to. We have empty apartments we use for clients. So you could stay in one of those. They’re nice, just like mine except probably decorated better, since Eden took care of that part.”
“Webb.” Noelle grabs my hand. “I can’t afford twenty-four-seven surveillance. I’m not even sure I have a job anymore.”
“You have a job, I told you. But it doesn’t matter, because we wouldn’t charge you.”
“But—” Her forehead squinches up. “Security costs money. And you already bought new locks, and alarms for the windows. I can’t let you spend more money on me. Especially not something that big.”
Hurt niggles at me. “Don’t you want my help?”
“It’s not that. It’s just…” Regret darkens her gaze. “This is supposed to be the easy part of a relationship. The fun part. Not asking you to be my bodyguard because my boss won’t leave me alone. And that’s not even counting the expense.”
I’m struck by the irony of the situation. For as long as I can remember, I didn’t want complications. The fun, early days of a relationship were all I wanted. But now?
“I care about you,” I reply. “A lot. I hope you know that. And yeah, I like having fun with you. But that’s not all it is. I want to support you. Protect you. And you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering.”
As Noelle opens her mouth to speak, I add, “The money isn’t an issue. I would pay if it came to that, but I don’t have to. My team does a lot of pro bono work—helping clients who need protection or investigative services but can’t afford them. We’d take care of everything.”
“I’m not sure,” she starts. “If I’m your client, I feel like that would make things weird between us. Assuming I haven’t scared you off with all my crap, that is.”
“You haven’t.” Needing her closer, I pull Noelle onto my lap. Then I tip her chin up so she has to look at me. “You haven’t scared me off. Not for a second. And we wouldn’t be helping you as a client. It would be because—”
Shit. Is it too soon to call her my girlfriend? And is this really the time to get into it?
But I’m not sure what else to say that would be honest, so I admit, “My team would help because… I think of you as my girlfriend. Maybe it’s too soon to say that. But it’s true. I don’t care how many dates we’ve been on. I want to help because you’re important to me.”
“Webb.”
“I’m not going to lie, Noelle, no matter what, I’m going to watch out for you. And I’m going to look into that piece of shit Ken, because he deserves to get what’s coming to him. So even if you change your mind about me—”
“Webb.” Noelle covers my mouth with her hand. As she looks at me, a smile tugs at her lips. “Are you going to let me answer? Or are you just going to keep talking?”
Oops.
Once she removes her hand from my mouth, I reply sheepishly, “Let you answer.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“Okay to all of it. Helping me. Making sure Ken is punished for the gross things he did. And… calling me your girlfriend.”
Some of the worry I’ve been carrying since I got the call about Noelle falls away. “Are you sure?”
She nods. “I wanted to handle it on my own. And then… I was scared I’d mess things up with you. But now I’m realizing that wasn’t the best decision. I wasn’t being fair to you. You’ve been honest with me from the start, and I—”
“You had your reasons. I understand.”
“Still. If I’d just told you, maybe we could have stopped Ken already.” Hope lights her gaze. “Do you think you can stop him?”
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation. “We’ll figure this out, sweetheart. And in the meantime, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
Noelle stares at me. Suddenly, her chin quivers. Her eyes shine with tears.
Panic surges. “What’s wrong?” I glance at her hand to make sure it’s not bleeding again. “Is it your hand?”
She shakes her head. “No. Nothing’s wrong. I just…” She flings her arms around my neck. “I was feeling so terrible. But I’m realizing it’s not as bad as I thought. And that’s thanks to you.”
My heart twists. “Noelle.”
Her lips press softly against mine, tasting of mint and salt. Then she looks at me. “My boyfriend.” She kisses me again. “I like the sound of that.”
And just like that, everything in the world feels right again. “I like it, too.”