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Page 17

by Reagan Shaw

He dropped one hand to my chin, tilted it back and deepened the kiss. I inhaled, gripped the front of his shirt. “Noah,” I groaned, “if you don’t go, I won’t be able to think. Or breathe. You drive me—”

  A knock rattled my hotel room door, and I sighed, stepping away from him. At least it was an excuse to gather some distance between us. “That’s probably Luna,” I said, “I kinda ran out on her there. Shit, I owe her cash for my meal too.” Not that she’d accept it. I hurried to my bag and fished my wallet out of it, then returned to the door.

  I unlocked it, swung it inward, and inhaled, sharply.

  It wasn’t Luna who stood in front of the door, waiting with her usually bubbly smile, hair perfectly coiffed.

  No.

  It was my brother.

  Marc. Marc was here.

  Noah

  Fuck.

  Marc stood in front of the open door, his hands in his pockets, his short blond hair spiked and styled. He wore a business suit, as he always did, even if it was fucking Christmas Eve. His jaw was dropped, his green eyes, almost the same hue as Erika’s, were wide as donuts.

  “What?” he said.

  “Marc,” Erika managed, and licked her lips. She’d already cultivated a sheen of nervous sweat on her forehead. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to visit you, sis,” he said, and took another step forward, forcing Erika to back up from the door. “Is that a problem?” Marc walked into the hotel room and scanned it, looking for evidence, it seemed. His gaze paused on the crumpled red dress Erika had left on the floor.

  Oh fuck. This is it.

  He shifted his eyes to the left and took note of the ripped thong, now lying on the armchair where I’d thrown it. He averted his gaze, then circled toward me. “You motherfucker,” he said, slowly. “You absolute piece of fucking scum.”

  “Whoa,” I said, and lifted my hands. “Calm down, dude. There’s no need to talk like that.”

  “No need? No need?! I trusted you. I told you—” Marc was purple in the face now, and he paced toward me, raising a finger, forming his hand into a fist. “I told you to stay away from my little sister!” He shoved me, and I didn’t budge, but stared down at him instead.

  I’d never backed down from a challenge. Any man who’d dare think he could touch me had wound up with a broken nose or a blackened eye, but this was Marc. This was my best friend. And I’d broken his promise. “You don’t understand,” I replied, coolly.

  “I don’t want to fucking understand!” Marc yelled.

  “Stop! Just stop it,” Erika said, jerking toward her brother, and laying a hand on his arm. “Stop. You don’t have any right to come in here and cause a scene, Marc. This is between me and Noah and no one else.”

  “Between you? Are you fucking kidding me? It’s between you?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, then let out another wordless yell. He was officially losing his shit. “Fuck! Noah! Noah, you shit, I told you not to touch her. I told you she was off-limits, but you couldn’t help yourself, could you? You just couldn’t. You had to stick your dick—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence,” I commanded. “Don’t speak about Erika that way. Fuck it, or me for that matter. I haven’t done anything to hurt her.”

  Erika cleared her throat at that but thankfully didn’t follow that up with a comment. She kept her hand on Marc’s arm, as if her touch could stop him from launching into whatever attack was clearly on his mind. It wouldn’t.

  I didn’t blame Marc for his anger. I’d betrayed his trust. But he didn’t get what was actually going on here.

  “Marc, calm down and listen to me,” I said, once again in that commanding tone. “I’m not fucking around here. I care about Erika. I care about what happens to her.” I couldn’t bring myself to say that I loved her in front of him, not just yet. Christ, we hadn’t even worked that out between us yet. How would he react if I brought it up?

  Throw it back in my face. Keep up the threats. It wouldn’t change a damn thing.

  “I’m not just screwing her. I give a shit, OK? So slow your damn roll.”

  Marc shook off Erika’s grip and moved closer to me. “You think I give a damn about whether you care for her or not? You’re not good enough for her, dipshit. You fuck up women. You fuck them and then you leave them and that’s all there is to it. Do you get that? I warned you about this. I warned you to stay away from her, and you still went ahead anyway. You clearly don’t give a fuck about our relationship.”

  “Can you both stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Erika snapped.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “This doesn’t concern you.” Marc barked it out without looking at her. “This is my business with Noah. He made a promise to me, and now he’s broken it.” Marc shoved me again, harder this time, and I took a single step back.

  “Marc, don’t do that again.”

  “I’ll fucking kill you,” he roared and launched himself at me. “You lying son of a bitch.” He crashed into my midriff and tackled me onto the ground behind the sofa. We scuffled, him punching at every inch of me he could find, hard punches. He didn’t pull any of them.

  I refused to hit back. I was much bigger. I spent more time training. But the anger built in my gut, the sheer fucking outrage at having the moment with Erika ruined, at the unfairness of all of this shit.

  Of the fact that my best friend didn’t think I could offer any value to his little sister after all these years. That he’d dictate to me, to Erika, to everyone, when he had a perfect life to go home to. A wife who cared about him, who’d loved him from the start.

  Marc had wound up with his high-school crush. Mine still hated me. Mine was out of reach. Didn’t want to trust, even after I’d admitted that I was wrong, that I loved her.

  “Fuck!” I growled and grabbed my best friend, hooking one leg around him, then an arm. I flipped him over, got on top of him, and held his hands behind his back. “Fuck, Marc, stop! Just fucking stop it.”

  “Both of you stop it,” Erika screeched and stormed into view, barefoot and still so painfully beautiful, even in her anger. “You’re acting like goddamned animals. Stop.”

  “Geroff me!” Marc struggled underneath my grip. “Geroff, you asshole.”

  “Noah,” Erika said, closing her eyes for a second, then flicking them open again. “I think you’d better leave. My brother and I need to have a serious conversation about what’s just happened here.”

  “You’re goddamn right we do,” Marc grunted.

  I weighed it up, switching my focus from Marc to Erika and back down to him again. Christ, it wasn’t that I thought Marc would hurt his sister—he loved her, wanted to protect her—but I hated that he’d won. He’d lost his control, made a complete idiot out of himself, and he’d still somehow won this altercation.

  Marc wouldn’t let up on this shit. He’d convince Erika that I was nothing that I didn’t want her, and that was what ate at me. She was already on the cusp of believing it, because she was afraid of what it’d mean to be with me.

  Opening up again.

  “Noah.” Erika swallowed. “Please.”

  “Fine,” I replied and released my friend. Was he still my friend after this? Fuck, that was up to him. “Fine, I’m leaving, but you’d better not fucking touch me as I go, Marc, or I’ll pin you again.”

  “Fuck you, asshole,” Marc spat, as he rose from the ground.

  I made for the door, then paused once to look back at Erika, her arms folded under her breasts, tapping her heel on the carpeted floor of her hotel room. She’d been through so much—I’d put her through some of it—and still she was strong as a damn rock.

  “I’ll be back,” I said.

  “You’d better not be,” Marc snapped.

  Erika said nothing.

  I exited the hotel room and walked down the hall, straightening my shirt as I went, tucking it in, grimacing at the fact that Marc had taken off one of my buttons. Fuck, what a disaster. Unmitigated.

  And I w
as the one who had to walk away and let whatever happened, happen.

  This wasn’t me. But this was what Erika wanted, and I’d already made a promise to myself that for once, I’d focus on what she wanted, rather than what I did.

  Erika

  Erika – Aged 17

  * * *

  Noah had kissed me last night. He’d pressed me up against my bedroom door and kissed me, and then he’d left. And this morning was the day he’d leave, off to college to study to become a doctor of all damn things.

  And I’d be left as confused and frustrated as I’d been throughout my entire high-school career. All because of him.

  “Damn you,” I muttered, turning over in my bed.

  It was a Saturday morning, and already past 10:00 a.m. I’d refused to get up in case Noah had decided to show up to the house. Judging by the muted laughter from upstairs, the music too, he’d turned up as expected.

  “I’m done with you too.” That was what he’d said. Once again, I was the idiot who’d fallen for his charms. He’d kissed me, and I’d practically melted in on myself.

  First, there’d been the earlobe kiss before his prom. Then there’d been nothing but meanness for the last three months, and now, that he’d finally decided he was leaving the house behind, not following whatever his parents wanted him to do, he did this.

  Kissed me. Actually kissed me.

  I groaned and rolled over, burying my face in my pillow. I had to rid myself of this feeling.

  It had clearly been his plan to make me uncomfortable from the start, or to make me look and feel like a fool. And he’d totally achieved that. He’d one hundred percent achieved what he’d set out to do, because I couldn’t even get out of bed this morning.

  That thought drove me out from under the covers and toward my bedroom door, shoving my glasses onto my face as I went. If I could wash up and get my day started, even if it was just to work on my school project for Friday next week, it would be better than this.

  Pining after the guy who’d made an idiot of me.

  “OK, let’s do this,” I muttered, and opened my bedroom door.

  Noah stood in front of it, his fist raised to knock. Downstairs, music thumped on. No doubt Marc was still down there, doing whatever it was that he did on a Saturday morning. Annoying me.

  “What do you want?” I asked. Would he be the kissable Noah today? Or the asshole?

  “Woo, that’s morning breath.” Noah stepped back, waving a hand in front of his nose. Ah, the asshole, then. To be fair, I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet. “Shit, four-eyes, do you usually sleep this late on a Saturday?”

  “That’s literally none of your business,” I replied.

  “You sure about that?” he asked. “After last night?”

  “Asshole,” I hissed. “Just leave me alone. Get out of my way.”

  “I am going to leave you alone,” he replied, grinning now, that college-football-jerk smile. God, I wanted to punch him in the face. “I’m just letting you know, Erika, that I’m leaving, and that I’m so fucking glad I don’t have to see you anymore.”

  My heart dropped like a stone. I blinked at the sheer anger in his tone. “What? Are you—what?”

  “Did I stutter?” he asked. “I’m glad I won’t have to be around you anymore. I told you, four-eyes, I’m done with you, and I can’t wait to be out of this fucking town, out your life. The next time you see me, I’ll be an accomplished doctor, and you’ll be—what? Some kind of glorified gardener?”

  “Paleontology is the study of dinosaurs and ancient—”

  “Whatever,” he said and waved it away. “Later, nerd.” He turned and swaggered off toward the front door, away from me, carrying that aura of anger and meanness with him.

  I stared after him, gripping my door so hard it shook. “Later?” I called after him. “Try never. You’re a loser, Noah Cox. That’s your problem with me. You’re a loser, and I’m not.” I slapped my bedroom door shut before he had the opportunity to reply and paced back and forth across my fluffy rug.

  What the hell? What the actual hell?

  Why would he do that? Why would he have come out of his way to find me this morning and verbally accost me? Why was he like this?

  I spread my arms wide. “It doesn’t matter,” I said, dragging my hands through the air. “It doesn’t matter, and it never will. He’s gone now, and I don’t have to put up with his weird ass anymore.” No more temper tantrums or flipped switches. Just me, focused on my schoolwork and my future, which certainly wouldn’t involve him.

  But the anger burned in my gut, regardless.

  It was just the fact that he’d come forward again, just to hurt me one last time. I got it. I understood that he didn’t have the best home life with his oh-so-rich and unavailable parents, but that wasn’t an excuse for him to act like an insulting and emotional spastic.

  “Asshole!” I screeched and charged over to my bedroom door. I ripped it open and marched down the stairs and to the front porch.

  Noah was already in his car—some fancy BMW that totally suited his dickishness down to a tee—with Marc standing by the window. They spoke to each quietly, Marc gave him one of those bro-handshakes and backed up, and Noah started the car.

  Neither of them had noticed me yet. I kept my angry scream at bay, but Noah looked up, just then and caught my gaze. He smirked, and it was the final straw.

  “Good riddance,” I mouthed, at him, then lifted my middle finger and held it in the air. “Fuck you.” Both of them were silent, but my gesture had the desired impact.

  The smile disappeared. Noah flipped his sunglasses down and turned away from me. The car drove off, and he was gone. For good.

  Finally, I was alone. Finally.

  I stood watching that Beemer until it turned the corner, and when it finally winked out of sight, a hollow spot opened up in the pit of my stomach.

  Alone.

  Erika

  “Sit down,” I said and pointed to the sofa. I walked to the door of my room and clapped it shut, turned the lock, then marched over and collected my ruined underwear, then my dress. I dumped them both on top of my overnight bag, before turning back to my brother.

  Marc had taken up a position on the sofa, but his gaze was sharp, and he leaned his forearms on his thighs. “What the hell were you thinking, Erika?” he asked. “Noah? Are you fucking serious?”

  I hadn’t been thinking, to be honest. For the first time in a long time, I’d been feeling. Maybe, that was the problem.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m fucking serious. I don’t see how my sex life has anything to do with you.”

  “Sex life,” Marc repeated, and tugged at his hair. “Jesus Christ. What a nightmare.”

  “Dude, what’s the matter with you?” I asked, and sat down on one of the armchairs—not the discarded-thong one. “I’m thirty-four-years-old, not sixteen. It’s not like I’m dating Noah in high school, and even if I was, what difference would it make? You’re not Dad, so what the hell’s your problem? I didn’t ask for you to be this protective over me.”

  “I’ve always had your best interests at heart,” Marc replied. “Ever since we were kids. The only kids in the family who stuck together. You remember what happened to Cousin Nattie.”

  “Oh my god, so we’re going to dredge up ancient family history to justify our shitty behavior in the present day?” I asked. Cousin Nattie had wound up hooked on drugs, thanks to the negative influence of her boyfriend. Her brother Joseph had never forgiven himself for it.

  I hadn’t seen either of them in years, hadn’t even thought of them. Then again, Marc had always been more family-oriented than me.

  “Erika, fine, you asked me why I’m behaving this way, and I’m telling you. Noah is bad news. He’s always been bad news. You have no idea what he got up to in high school,” Marc replied.

  “I think I have some idea. There were enough rumors—”

  “Remember that bitch who he invited to prom? The one who was such a dick to yo
u? Yeah, he slept with her that night, and then he dumped her the next day. He used her.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, I know. The school was alive with rumors about it, dude. I know the dark secrets. It’s whatever. That was seventeen years ago. You can’t seriously believe he’s still the same person he was back then. That’s seriously naïve of you. Why are you even friends with him if you think he’s that bad of a person? Huh? For god’s sake, you married Jess!”

  Marc rubbed his palms together, ground his teeth so loud that they squeaked. “You’re seriously going to make this difficult, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not making it any way except real. You have no right to come in here and interrupt whatever was going on between me and Noah. Look, I get that you’re friends with him, but still. That was totally out of line, and I’d like an apology for it.”

  “An apology!”

  “Yes, a goddamned apology.” I folded my arms, tucking my robe closer to my body, even though it wasn’t cold in the room. It was just a method of guarding myself from him and his shitty behavior.

  I’d never once seen my brother that angry or that out of control, and yeah, it had bothered me. A lot.

  Marc raised a finger at me. “No,” he said, “I won’t apologize for looking out for your best interests. Your best friend called me and told me you’d be at this hotel, alone. That you were spending Christmas alone. I came up here to help you out, and instead, I find you here with… Fuck!”

  “Marc, don’t be unreasonable. I don’t need you to look out for my best interests. I’m a grown woman, not a teenager.”

  “Then why are you behaving like one?” Marc shook that finger at me, and I had the urge to pinch it.

  As kids, we’d gotten in our fair share of brawls. I’d won when we’d been younger and I’d been a little taller, but after puberty hit, it had been him bullying me and not much else. “Marc, stop.”

  “He’s using you,” my brother said. “He’s using you to make himself feel better. That’s who he is.” He huffed a sigh. “Look, it’s not like he’s doing it on purpose. I don’t think he even realizes why he’s doing what he does. Noah’s family life was dysfunctional growing up, and that method of doing things has rubbed off on him. It’s just the truth. The way it is. Nothing you do or say will change that.”

 

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