Chapter Thirty-Three
Aubrey
The pain on Bree’s face had turned from the initial sting into more of a throbbing as she sat at the island where he had indicated. She just wanted to go home. She was tired and hurting and over the fear and adrenaline, tired of playing his games. She was not a proficient liar at the best of times, and this was wearing on her already thin nerves. It had almost been twenty-four hours, and she was done.
“I’m sorry you made me do that,” Skyler said as he dished up their dinner. “I don’t want to hurt you, Aubrey. I want us to be happy together. I can help make all of your dreams come true. There is no me without you. And there can’t be a you without me.” He said, the warning clear as he set down the plate of spaghetti in front of her and waited for her to take a bite.
“Eat.” He said shortly. “It’s your Nonna’s recipe. Just the way you like it.”
Nothing was sacred to this man. Bree didn’t think she’d ever be able to be in Noah’s house or eat Nonna’s spaghetti again. A lone tear fell down her face as she obediently picked up the fork to take a bite. I’m sorry you made me do that, he had said. She scoffed internally. Yeah, how dare I refuse to come downstairs with you to eat after you freaking kidnapped me. Bree’s thoughts ran rampant while she forced another bite into her mouth.
A loud shattering sound had her throwing her hands up in front of her face in an attempt to protect it from the glass that was flying into the room from the outside. A loud grunt came from the kitchen and she was abruptly pulled off her chair from behind into a warm body.
There in the doorway, like an avenging warrior, was Noah, dressed head to toe in black, a gun in his hand and a look of pure rage on his face. “Let. Her. Go.” Noah said, training his weapon on the man behind her.
A glint of silver and the widening of Noah’s eyes was the only warning Bree had before there was a sharp tug at her throat, warm liquid trickling down it.
“Put down your weapon, or I’ll do it again,” Skyler warned, pressing the kitchen knife against her throat. The first shallow cut was already stinging.
“Okay—just…Don’t hurt her.” Noah said, his hard eyes taking Bree in while slowly bending down and placing his gun on the floor.
“Kick it away,” Skyler ordered. Noah rolled his eyes, and Bree found herself worried that he was going to get himself killed.
“Noah—” She tried, but Skyler yanked her back against him and made another slice in warning. Bree let out a small whimper, and tears filled her eyes.
“NO!” Noah shouted. “Bree—just—don’t talk, love.”
Bree couldn’t even nod in response as fear flowed through her veins. Noah looked…frightened.
“There’s no way out of this for you Skyler,” Noah said, trying to draw Skyler’s attention off of Bree and back on him.
“She’s mine. You were trying to keep her all to yourself. You wouldn’t let her do what she loved. She was dying in your house.”
“You’re right,” Noah said, sounding as though he one hundred percent believed what he was saying. “She was dying in my house. I should’ve listened to her when she said she wanted to do things and get out of the house. But she’s going to die in your house Skyler if you keep cutting her. That isn’t what you want, is it?”
A soft click came from the right, but no one seemed to notice it except Bree. Both men were too busy facing each other in a standoff where the loser lost their life and the winner got the prize—her.
“Listen, you can have her,” Noah said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture.
Skyler scoffed. “Like I’d believe that. I’m not an idiot.”
“No, man, I mean it. I can see that you care for her. Your house color, the flowers, the spaghetti. You know her well. She’d be happy here.” Noah said, taking a small step toward Skyler.
Skyler loosened his grip on the knife slightly, and Bree could finally take a breath without fear of accidentally slitting her own throat. Noah’s eyes met hers, and she saw everything there. Love. Fear. Determination. He wouldn’t leave her here. He wouldn’t leave her, ever.
“Skyler, we can talk about this. But you have to let her go. Just let her sit on the couch or something. She doesn’t need to be in the middle of this. She’s a woman you care about deeply. Are you going to let harm come to her while she’s under your care?”
“No,” Skyler said, clearly affronted by the question. “No, I’m not.” He ran his hand down her arm in a caress that made her want to vomit. “You’re okay, Bree.” He whispered. He forcefully grabbed her arm and sat her on the nearest barstool. She was still easily within his reach, but there wasn’t a knife to her throat, and she wasn’t directly between him and Noah, so she was counting that as a win.
“Good—that’s good. I can see that she’s really important to you.” Noah said, clearly trying to buy time. For what? “She’ll be happier with you.” He said, looking directly at Skyler. His eyes flitted behind Skyler for a brief second.
“I know she—” Skyler began as Noah abruptly dropped to the ground.
“NOAH!” Bree screamed as he fell, fear flashing through her.
Skyler’s confusion mirrored hers as a loud boom sounded in the room, making Bree’s ears ache and her head spin.
There was a moment of silence before the ringing started. It was quiet at first and gradually grew louder as the other sounds around her came back into focus. Skyler fell forward onto the ground, a bullet hole taking up residence in the back of his head. The blood oozed around him, and while she didn’t want to look, she couldn’t look away. Her body was shaking, and she could hear her breath coming out in sharp pants as she stared.
A pair of hands wrapped around her arms, and she froze, slowly moving her gaze away from Skyler’s dead body and tensing from the touch. Noah lifted his hands up in a placating manner. “It’s me, Bree. You’re safe now.” He said, moving to stand in front of her to block her view of Skyler, but still not touching her.
Bree looked at Noah as she tried to make her brain move through sludge and process what he was saying. She looked at the empty space where Skyler had been standing. Eli watched her, the gun still in his hand, arm resting at his side. He gave her a small nod and re-holstered his weapon before he turned on his heel to open the front door. “Key,” Bree whispered to Noah.
“What, sweetheart?” Noah asked, leaning a little closer.
“He’ll need the key. To get out the front door.” Her teeth chattered, but she wasn’t cold. “On the ring.” She said, nodding down toward Skyler’s dead body.
“He already opened the front door, Bree,” Noah said reassuringly.
She must’ve looked confused because he added, “Eli is a master at picking locks. It’s come in handy countless times.”
Eli nodded and walked over toward them, and crouched down a little so he was on Bree’s level. “Don’t give him another second of your life, Aubrey. He brought this on himself.”
She nodded and looked back at Noah, who was hovering close to her. “Noah?” Bree asked, tears streaming down her face as it finally sunk in that he was there. She was safe. She threw herself at him, sobs coming out of her as he wrapped his strong arms around her and nuzzled his nose in her hair, his breath gently stirring the strands that never seemed to stay in place.
“Bree.” He held on to her tightly as the scene around them changed. The front door opened and the room filled with sounds of other people coming into the house. Bree turned her head and watched Theo, Peter, and Zach. They took in the dead man in the living room with about as much interest as she would give the weather channel.
“Did you call the police? EMS?” Noah asked, clutching her to him tightly.
“Sure did. They’re en route. Put some pressure on that slice on your arm, Noah. Looks like it may need stitches.” Peter replied, staring pointedly at the gash on Noah’s arm.
“That’s what happens when you crash through a window instead of waiting for your team,” Eli added, raising an eyebrow.
There was a panicked flutter in Bree’s chest. “But you guys shot him.” She said as her brain finally started functioning again. “Won’t you get in trouble? You’ll go to jail. You can’t go to jail for me.”
“Relax, Bree,” Noah said softly. “No one is going to jail. You were kidnapped, and he was holding you at knifepoint. It was self-defense.”
“And you breaking through the window?”
“You were here under duress. And if they slap me with a trespassing charge, I’ll take it. You’re alive and safe, Bree. I’ll take whatever they want to throw at me.”
Zach rolled his eyes. “As romantic as that is, no one is slapping you with anything, Noah.” He paused as the sound of sirens blared through the open door. “Let’s give statements and get out of here.”
***
Several hours and a hospital trip later, Bree found herself tucked into Noah’s side on the plane back home to Trenton. The doctor said the cuts were superficial and her concussion would just take some time to heal. Other than being in shock, she was perfectly fine. The shock had mostly worn off by the time they made it to the hospital, and the police had arrived to collect their statements. Turns out that them having reported all of the incidents along the way saved Eli and Noah from charges. They had made all the necessary police reports which corroborated their story.
Bree nestled into Noah’s shoulder, content to listen to the banter of the men as they headed home, but her eyes began closing of their own accord, desperate for the rest that had eluded her since her kidnapping. Now that she was safe, her body was ready to sleep.