7. The Hansens
Chapter seven
The Hansens
NOAH
It wasn’t long before the driver arrived, and for that, I was grateful.
After the brief contact and shaking of hands with the girl I now learned was Delane, the silence set in and caused me to grow agitated and uncomfortable.
I had no idea what to say to her, and even if I did, I doubted she would answer me.
She remained dead quiet when the driver pulled to a halt in front of the bar and we entered the car.
She remained motionless throughout the entire ride, blinking furiously to hold back her tears.
Every so often her chest would rise and fall sharply with a quick intake of breath. I only assumed she was trying to calm herself down.
Nothing else was said between the two of us, and I felt as though I was missing out on something potentially important.
One of my major downfalls was that my personality begged to fill silence. I became anxious when people in close proximity didn’t speak to me. My mind would deceive me into thinking that they were scrutinizing my every move. Studying me and my imperfections.
“Do you...uh...go to college?” I asked her.
Fucking idiot. What a question.
She side eyed me skeptically and tugged my hoodie closer to her exposed body. She gave a swift nod in response.
I held my fingers to my temple. She probably thought I was crazy.
“Noah,” My driver Marcus inquired. “Where should I drop your friend?”
I watched Delane’s eyes grow wide, but before that fear could blossom, I chuckled lightly in an effort to calm her nerves.
“No need for any additional stops. She will be accompanying us home” I answered.
“Ah, I see.” Marcus shuffled nervously in his seat, a thin frown line replacing his normal smile. Immediately, I realized something was wrong.
“Might I suggest a brief stay?” he whispered.
I glanced back at Delane who was staring silently out the window. She hadn’t heard.
I leaned forward across the leather interior. “Why is that?”
Marcus laughed quietly and shifted again, his shoulders giving a weak shrug. “I do not wish to question your authority, Mr. Hansen, but it’s your mother—”
“What happened?” I growled.
“Well, uh, Mrs. Hansen, she...umm...had an accident a few moments following your phone call...”
I grew gravely quiet and locked eyes with him through the rearview mirror. A quick and sharp nod let me know that the accident my mother had was not really an accident at all.
I slammed my fist against the door of the car, unable to control my anger. “Dammit!”
I was too late. David had hurt her, I was sure.
Once again, my mother was paying the price.
I should’ve returned right when she had called, but that would have meant leaving Delane alone to fend for herself against Silas and his lackeys.
She would have become another statistic silently taken behind an alley dumpster.
At my outburst, Delane jumped, her eyes widening as she looked at me. Her form was tense, her body angling closer to the car door, away from me. “I-I can leave, i-if you w-want...” She mumbled hastily, her words stuttering.
I placed my face between my hands. I realized my display must have frightened her. It took a lot out of me to keep my anger at bay. My emotions were like ticking time bombs, and the information Marcus gave me about my mom lit the already very short fuse. “No, this isn’t your fault. You’re fine.”
I studied the back of the passenger seat, willing the car to move faster.
Delane spoke up again, almost reassuringly, which startled me. “I’m not sure what’s wrong, but I’m sure it will be okay.”
I resisted the sigh of annoyance brewing within. She knew nothing.
“You’re probably right,” I agreed, to appease her.
When I looked up, I saw her pitiful attempt at a smile. “Thank you again, for helping me,” she murmured.
Something within me tugged from her smile. My pulse quickened, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from traveling the map of her mouth down to her bare collarbone, suddenly so aware of her near naked form encased in my clothing. She was stunning.
“You’re more than welcome,” I answered.
She laughed quietly. “I mean, you literally saved me.”
“It was nothing, really,” I said, feeling a bit out of place. I had never been a “hero” before. This was new to me.
I glanced out the window to see the mansion coming quickly into view. The car took a turn and began its descent down the winding pathway to the roundabout in front of my home.
Delane gasped, nearly pressing herself into the glass to get a better look. “Woah...is that where we’re going?”
I nodded, amused at her attentiveness. “This is where I live.”
I found her reaction absolutely adorable to the place I considered normal. Boring, even.
Honestly, every person usually reacted the same.
I guessed it was a low or middle class thing.
People were always thrilled to see my home, my cars (although they were actually Damian’s), and my collections of miscellaneous shit that my mom swore “had value” and enhanced the aesthetic.
Usually, when I took a woman back to my home, it was to fuck, so this was a little different.
The sporadic thought of laying Delane down across the mahogany table in my dining room suddenly crossed my mind and I shook my head, hoping to rid my brain of the image.
But that was easier said than done.
My attention drifted back to Delane, observing with humor as her mouth dropped slightly when the car pulled to a stop in front of the two story doorway. Her hands were still glued to the window.
“Shall I get the door for you, Mr. Hansen?” Marcus asked politely, placing the vehicle in park.
Delane had already unlocked the door and stepped outside to get a better look before he finished his offer. While she was distracted, I decided to rummage in the rear seat compartment.
“No, thanks,” I handed Marcus a few big bills. “Thank you for arriving at such a late hour.”
Before I could step out of the vehicle, Marcus reached behind the head rest and grabbed my shoulder. “Son, please, don’t do anything stupid.”
I slipped the item I had been searching for into the back of my pants. “Of course not.”
Marcus’s grip tightened. “Anger is not the answer,” he sighed. “Son, anger is a drug. Remember that.”
I smirked. I was fortunate to have a thorough understanding of drugs. Plus, I was ready to let off some of the rage that had been bottled up inside of me for the better part of the night. I had been so good. Not a single fight.
Yet.
Ready for Marcus to stop calling me “son,” and get his hands off of me, I said, “I’ll be fine.”
With one last squeeze of my shoulder and a pat on the back, Marcus released me.
“Goodnight, Mr. Hansen. Sleep well.”
“Oh, I will.”
DELANE
I was captivated by the beauty of Noah’s home. I had never seen anything like it before. Huge, a mansion almost. Complex and intricate. I was unable to control my curiosity at the possibility of seeing what my inner child would have considered a palace. It was a bit surreal.
“Are you ready?” Noah’s voice came from behind me.
The truth of why I was here in the first place wasn’t fully sinking in yet.
My body still ached from the attack and struggle.
Yet, all I could think about when I heard Noah’s voice was: If this place was a palace, then was Noah the prince?
He certainly could pass for royalty, I thought.
He was handsome and strong, had rescued me, and if this mansion was an indicator, he was probably wealthy, too.
He had a smile that could kill. The same deadly smile that he was wearing at the moment.
“Uh...yeah...I think so...” I mumbled, glad the darkness could shield my burning cheeks.
He placed his hands in his pockets and closed the distance between us. I held my breath.
“Here’s the deal,” He closed his eyes and spoke in such a calm manner that I instantly felt at ease—almost too comfortable.
When he opened his eyes, hints of rage lingered.
I remembered those eyes. In the alley way they sliced through me, fluid and ready for confrontation, but now they were steadfast, gleaming with the finest onyx and reflecting the moonlight.
“I need you to stay right here, in this spot. Do you understand?” He formed it like a question, but even I understood that it was an order.
I wasn’t afraid. This man saved my life, right? I nodded, feeling light, as if I could float up into the air.
“Good.” He turned and started a short trek to the side of the enormous building.
“I’m going around,” He seemed to answer the question before I asked it. He cracked a grin. “Be right back.”
I gave him another nod, but he had already vanished into the night.
NOAH
I made my way to the back of the house. Stealthily, I advanced towards the small light by the garden door entryway, my back pinned to the outside brick. David was not someone to be taken lightly, and I didn’t intend to start now.
I grasped tightly onto the device that I had taken from the car. I planted it there for times like this: when David went nuts and I had to return home, not knowing if the bitch was lurking in the shadows, waiting.
Watching.
“What are you doing outside at this hour, Noah?”
I felt my knees quiver as the memories of David’s last “episode” rang through my ears.
“Hah! What’s wrong with you? You’re a pussy.”
The remembered feeling of helplessness was shrinking down inside of me. That feeling of powerlessness and inability to change fate.
A crushing acceptance. A loss of hope and will.
“Are you afraid of the dark, Noah?”
I grit my teeth from the barrage of unwanted memories and allowed the gun to emerge from behind my back. The safety was off, and I stood on the terrace that encircled the outside of the house. The backdoor loomed before me, daring me to turn its nob.
Just how many unlit hallways would I have to trek through?
I took in three deep breaths and placed my fingers around the cool metal. Twisted.
Locked.