Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Noah
The days have been a dark blur of poor decisions and masking my pain since Tori left six months ago. I’ve lied to everyone. My sister thinks I’m deployed overseas, my friends think I am busy on training courses, and my mother, well, she only calls when she needs money, so I haven’t answered.
I fight the urge every day to call Tori, write to her, or look her up online.
I wonder what she’s doing, if she’s okay, and if she’s struggling as much as me.
I miss her. I miss everything about her.
But mixed in with the yearning is my grief and guilt.
What kind of person falls for their best friend’s girl, but not just your best friend, your dead best friend? What kind of monster am I?
I thought I was doing okay since we lost Scotty, but the truth of it is, I was so wrapped up in helping Tori, I don’t think I gave myself the space to process what happened, or to accept the part I played in his death.
I replay that day like an annoying TV ad on repeat.
What if I looked right instead of left? What if Scotty was at the back instead of up front.
What if our team wasn’t the lead? What if we had taken another route?
So many what ifs. I figured if I could help Tori, save her in some way, that maybe I could forgive myself.
But then I went and ruined it all and gave in to my feelings.
I took what I wanted. I saw my opportunity, and with only a very fleeting thought of the repercussions, I went for it.
I gave her what she needed. I allowed myself what I had craved, wanted, yearned for, for so long.
For a brief moment in time, Victoria May Walker was all mine.
I thought I had experienced hell without dying, but this feeling is something I am not trained or equipped to handle.
So that’s why I find myself here, leaning against the cold brick wall of the local jail, staring at the telephone because I landed myself in another bar fight, but this time I put a guy in the hospital, and I need someone to bail me out.
It’s in times like these you realize who you can call on, and thanks to my shitty childhood and my unresolved issues, my call list is limited.
I can count on one hand how many people I can rely on in life, but in this moment, I know there is only one I can really call on.
The man who’s had my back for as long as I can remember.
He’s been more of a brother than a friend since the day I met him, and who, thankfully, hasn’t changed his phone number since we were kids.
With a shaky hand, covered in cuts and torn knuckles, I punch in the number and take a steadying breath. It only takes two rings for him to answer.
“Hey, it’s me. I’m in trouble, and I need your help.”
The drive back to the temporary apartment I have been renting is silent. He has the good sense not to start firing questions at me. Like I knew he would, Jack got on the first flight out of Miami and came to my rescue. Paying my bail without a word.
We pull up outside the apartment, and I step out of the truck, my head feeling light when my boots hit the gravel. When was the last time I ate a decent meal and drank something that wasn’t alcohol?
Jack follows me in. I head straight to the refrigerator, and am relieved to find a single bottle of water in the salad tray. I drink it down like a man suffering from severe dehydration, which if I am being honest, I probably am.
Jack scans my apartment taking in the empty bottles of whiskey beer that litter the countertops. Trash bags of clothes are stacked by the worn leather couch, the only piece of furniture other than a side table in the living area.
“Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to clear up before you flew out,” I say with a bite to my tone.
“Yeah, I can see that. Noah, what the fuck is going on?”
I run a frustrated hand down my face, feeling the stubble beneath the broken skin of my fingertips. When did I last shave?
“I’m kind of tired. I appreciate you bailing me out. I’ll pay you back, but I just need to go get some sleep.” I attempt to walk past him, but he steps in front of me. “Jack, move.”
“No. I didn’t fly across the country to bail your ass out of fucking jail for you to act like nothing’s going on.”
“Jack, seriously. I am not in the mood right now, so get out of my ass, will you?”
He grips my shirt and shoves me against the refrigerator. “No, we’re gonna talk about this right fucking now, Noah. What’s going on?”
I stare at him, jaw clenched, and my chest fit to burst with anger.
“This isn’t you, Noah. Talk to me, buddy. I’m here.” I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling my need to fight dissipate.
“I fucked up, Jack. I fucked up bad.” My legs give out, and I hit the floor, and Jack follows.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is, we can fix it.”
I sniff and shake my head, not letting myself cry. “No, this, this can’t be fixed.”
“Everything can be fixed, Noah.”
I swallow the bile that’s worked its way up my sore throat and muster up the courage to speak my truth.
“I slept with Tori. And now she’s gone. She walked out without a second glance, and I haven’t heard from her since, and I miss her so goddamn much. Every time I close my eyes, I see her. I see Scotty, bleeding out on that fucking floor.”
I bring my knees up and rest my forearms on them, pushing my fingers into my hair and tug.
“I replay that day over and over. I should have known that the shooter was there. I took my eye off the ball for a second. I must have done. I’ve never missed a threat or a target, Jack, never, and now he’s gone, and it’s all my fault.
It’s my fault Scotty is gone, it’s my fault Tori doesn’t have him.
It’s my fault she lost their baby, and I tried to fix it for her, and I fucked it all up because I… ”
“Because you what?” Jack asks, placing a comforting hand on my back.
“Because I fell in love with her.” I sigh, a mixture of relief and exhaustion working its way out of my body. I have never admitted that out loud.
“What happened to Scotty is not your fault. It could have been any of us. We know it’s a risk with that job. You can’t carry that weight, Noah. It wasn’t your fault.”
His words become too much to handle, and I break. My body shudders uncontrollably, and I let myself cry for the first time in years without a care. Jack sits with me. He stays silent, with just a hand on my back to let me know he’s there.
“I’m sorry, fuck, I’m a mess.” I stammer eventually as I wipe my nose with the back of my hand.
“How long have you been living like this?” Jack asks, not with judgment but with concern.
“A couple of months. I’m on a temporary leave of absence. The commanding officer says I need to deal with my anger. I got kicked out the block, so I’ve been renting this shitty place.”
“Noah! Shit man, this isn’t you.”
“I know,” I admit as I hang my head in shame.
“Does anyone know?”
I look up at him. “No, and you can’t tell them. Not yet. Ria can never know. I don’t want to worry her. She’s pregnant again. She doesn’t need the worry.”
“She’s pregnant again?” he asks, but there is a hint of something I can’t quite decipher in his voice.
“Yeah, it’s new, so I don’t wanna stress her out.”
“Brad and Harry would wanna help. I can get them to fly out.”
I cut him off with a bark. “No, no. Jack, please. Brad, he’s fragile enough after that day, and Harry, he can’t ever know. He’d never speak to me again.”
“Yes, he would,” Jack confirms.
“No, he wouldn’t. Did you hear what I said? I fucked his sister,” I say on a shaky voice, the pain of it all resurfacing.
“Yeah, I heard you, and I also heard you say you love her, so that sounds a lot more than just fucking her.” He gives me a knowing look.
“It doesn’t matter because it’s not what she wants. She left, and I let her go.”
Jack shuffles into a more comfortable position and leans his head back to rest against the cabinet.
“I know what it feels like to love someone, to want to be with them, and you can’t have them because the timing isn’t right, or there are too many things keeping you apart, and it’s painful, but you will find a way to cope.
But, if there were ever a chance for you two, do you think you are the best version of yourself right now? Right now, are you the man she needs?”
I shake my head, letting his words sink in. He’s right. Tori deserves better than this. I deserve better than this version of myself.
“So, who are you in love with then?” I probe him, needing to take the heat off me for a second.
“That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is getting you some help. You need to figure out what you are going to do. Maybe it’s time to leave. Come to Miami with me. We plan to move the business back to New York next year. You’d be near Ria again.”
I shift uncomfortably. “I, I’m not ready,” I say firmly.
“Okay, then you need to figure out what your next move is, because this needs to stop.”
He’s right. I have been in self-destruction mode since Tori walked out of my life, and if I don’t stop now, I’ll be in a grave right beside Scotty.
“Will you stay for a bit and help me?” I say weakly, needing someone to take some of the burden away.
He stands and adjusts his jeans before reaching out his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, brother.”