Beautiful Storm (19 page)

My arms reach for her, but I’m unsure if she wants my touch. Lizzie picks up the movement but doesn’t step towards me. Uncertain what to do, I move them back to my sides. If I’d known, I would have been gentler, more caring, more… shit, anything.

If I’d known, I would’ve killed the fucker.

N
OAH’S BREATHS LABOUR
, his expression darkens, and his fiery hazel eyes are wild with anger. I’ve got so much to tell him, but I don’t know how, or where to start. I’m not even sure coming here is the best decision I’ve made. But I’m selfish and I need to see him, want to be close to him, feel his strength. I should have stepped into his arms when I had the chance. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance again.

Taking a swift look around the back room, I notice the same battered leather sofa through the gym’s doorless entrance. Noah’s steady gaze holds mine as I gesture towards it.

“I-is it okay if I sit down?” My voice wavers a little as the words stutter out.

I don’t know if he wants me here, and I wouldn’t blame him if he said, ‘No.’ His eyes soften a fraction as they survey mine, but the pain in them still glows like flickering embers.

How could I have ever let myself hurt him?

“Fuck. Yeah, sorry,” he answers quietly. His words are barely audible.

He’s still not recovered from what I’ve told him. I don’t know if he’ll ever recover from what’s still yet to be said. But I’m thankful he hasn’t asked me to leave.

As I sit on the sofa, Noah walks over but stops in the open doorway. His hands reach up above his head and grip the frame. The action lifts his T-shirt just enough to glimpse his deep, defined V, and with his low-slung jeans, the tempting trail of dark hair leading south. His stance is indifferent, but my reaction to him is what it’s always been. My breath catches in my throat, and I almost forget why I’m here.

It’s hard to look at him. He’s still gorgeous, but different, harder. The hair alteration is an obvious change, but not a bad one. If anything, it’s made his eyes more captivating. There’s a new scar under his right eye, which carves down onto his cheek. He’s added a new piercing, and additional tattoos adorn his body.

He’s more muscular than I remember, still lean but defined. When we were in the workshop I noticed the corded muscles in his arms working overtime with the continual flex of his fists. His bare chest gleamed with the sheen of sweat from the summer heat. A sight I’ve missed.

He’s still very much a man who would stop traffic, turn heads, and make knickers disintegrate with a glance.

My heart lurches at the thought. I didn’t expect him to remain faithful. Why would he? We had nothing left. I’d made sure of that. But the pain and jealously I feel is still a knife to my heart. I grimace as I try to battle the thoughts out of my head.

As he stands before me, an undertone of tension rolls off him, and I don’t need to touch him to know all his muscles are taut. He’s trying to suppress his anger. His jaw muscles clench intermittently and the veins in his temples throb. Part of me revels in the fact he can still feel protective towards me after everything I put him through.

A small spark of hope once dead glimmers in the darkness of my soul, and I take a deep, cleansing breath. This is starting to feel a little awkward. I have to say something. I tear my eyes away from his distracting body and stare at the wall beside him. I need to start somewhere. There’s more I need to tell him.

“Boo…” In my peripheral vision I notice Noah’s body stiffen at her name. “Layla didn’t play you.” I let out a sigh. “
We
didn’t play you. Did you really think I’d do that to you?” I move my eyes back to his rugged face.

His nostrils flare. “I have no fucking clue what you’re capable of anymore.”

“That’s unfair,” I counter, and twist my hands in my lap.

“I’ll tell you what’s unfair, being made a fucking fool of again.”

“I didn’t make a fool of you.”

“No? Try being in my shoes.” His hands drop from the frame and he steps a few paces towards me.

“How about
you
try walking a mile in mine? Then you can judge me for the things I’ve done.” My voice sounds defeated to my own ears. I drop my head into my hands and knead my temples, trying to eradicate the tension building behind them.

Noah lets out a strangled huff. “Convince me I’m wrong.”

There’s a challenge in his tone, and I push down the urge to yell at him. I hurt him and can’t take it back, but I can try and make it right, tell him the truth. My eyes drift to his and I hope he can understand.

“She honestly thought I was missing. Seriously, if I wanted to see you, I would have done what I did today. It’s not like I didn’t know where to find you.”

He retracts like I’ve punched him in the stomach.
Shit
. I forgot he had no way to know where I was. He didn’t have that luxury. I changed my address, my mobile number, and my surname.

“Look, I’m sorry.” I wrap my arms around myself, seeking some sort of comfort. “My point is I didn’t need to trick you into seeing me.”

“Keep going.” The words are squeezed out between his teeth as he leans his huge frame back against the wall. He’s still keeping his distance from me, when all I want is to be cocooned in his arms.

“For years I haven’t gone anywhere without telling her where I was, and what I was doing.”

There’s a pause as I struggle to find my next words.

“When Mac overdosed, that all changed. I didn’t have to explain my whereabouts. I was free. I had a couple of weeks where I could do what I wanted. And selfishly I took the chance to have a few days to myself. I should have told her, but for the last three years I’ve felt like I was under prison guard. You can’t understand what that’s been like.” My voice shakes and tears well in my eyes, but I won’t let them fall.

“Why?” I watch as Noah puts fragments together in his head. “Did that fucker threaten you?” His eyes darken and his voice is scratchy, as if he’s holding back his emotion.

“Yes. No. Well…” The words won’t come out.

“Did. He. Threaten. You?” he grits out.

His tone allows for no argument, and I know I’m out of options. His patience is wearing thin, and I can’t blame him.

I let out a sigh. “No. He didn’t threaten me.” I’m not ready to tell him the whole story, just yet.

Noah’s gaze pins me. He knows I’m still holding something back. And the tears I’m fighting to hold in escape. I look up at him through my waterlogged lashes.

“He… he threatened you.”

His eyes widen in disbelief before he spins and slams his palms against the wall. “And you didn’t think to fucking tell me? For fuck’s sake.”

He begins to pace in agitation, fists clenched tightly at his sides. “That’s why you pushed me away? Three wasted years, Lizzie. And all you had to do was tell me. You may not have noticed but I’m a big fucking boy, I can look after myself. Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

“I didn’t want to lose you.” My voice’s soft and a little unsure.

“You thought you’d lose me? Tell me what we’ve got now? If you had just said something, I would’ve killed the bastard. He never would have laid a finger on you again. I could never figure out what hold he had on you. Why I was never enough, why you chose him.” His pacing stops and he turns to me. “But you didn’t, did you?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” I shake my head. “Not in a million years would I have chosen Mac over you.”

He takes determined steps towards me then crouches down before dropping to a knee for support. His large hands come to rest on either side of my thighs. He still doesn’t touch me, but his heat radiates into me. I want to beg him to put his hands on me. His dark eyes search into mine. All that’s reflected is pain and regret.

“What aren’t you telling me?” His soft-spoken words sink right into my heart.

“What do you mean?” He knows me too well, knows I’m only giving as much information as necessary. After all this time, he can still read me.

“What aren’t you telling me, Lizzie? What you have said so far is unthinkable. I just wish you’d told me at the time.” He keeps his eyes locked on mine, his voice still low. “But you’re not telling me something because all of this has been before and during us, not after… I left you.” The last three words catch in his throat. “I’ve still got so many questions, but one needs answering now. You’d lived with the abuse before. What changed?”

He’s patiently waiting for me to answer him. The only visible evidence of his inner turmoil is the constant tic of his jaw. I wrap my arms tighter around myself and pull my gaze from his and down to my knees. I’m not ready for this. Bile rises from my chest, burning its way up my throat.

Noah’s tender fingers touch under my chin, and with a gentle nudge he raises my face, forcing my gaze to meet his.

“Lizzie?”

I’m held hostage by the way his eyes search my soul. “He…” I clear my throat of the words I’m choking on. “He tried to r-rape me.”

There’s no need to say anything else to him.

My body shudders as tears stream down my face. Noah crumples from what I can only assume is agony mixed with rage. His strong arms envelope me and crush me to his chest, and my willing body moves to his. The safe haven and comfort of his arms release a torrent of emotions I can’t control. My tears fall harder and my whole body shakes.

“That bastard better be glad he’s dead.” Noah whispers the words but the anger vibrates in his chest.

And all I can think is, for us, the worst is yet to come.

With a gentle push, I move out of his arms. He examines my face for a few seconds longer before he pushes back on his heels and rises to his feet.

“You should’ve told me.” The raw hurt in his voice entwined with the pure pain on his face sparks hope again.

“I couldn’t take the risk.” I push up off the sofa and come to stand in front of him. “He threatened to kill you. I could never have lived with myself.”

Noah’s burst of sarcastic laughter shocks through me as I stare at him.

“And you think I can live with myself, knowing what happened to you because of some fucking misguided idea you were protecting me?”

“He threatened to kill you!” My voice rises with my heated temper and despair.

Pushing past him, I stalk towards the closed door, Noah on my heels. He reaches me before I can click the lock and spins me around to face him. His arms cage me in against the wall. His heat so close and hitting me exactly where it shouldn’t right now. I breathe him in and all my muscles surrender to his presence. Heat pools between my thighs and my pulse races with desire.

“And it would’ve been fucking preferable to that bastard putting his hands on you.”

His face is so close to mine that if I lean forward my lips will touch his. Burning hazel eyes meet mine and widen as shock takes over his features, finally softening to a look I’ve longed to see for years. I take a breath to calm my fury.

The next move is his.