“Same as you, man,” Noah said, folding his arms across his chest and propping his leg up on one knee.
Chelsie tensed in her chair, unable to keep the anxiety from creeping into her bones. Just the sight of Brad brought back all sorts of haunting memories. Ian and Brad had always been incredibly close. They were a deadly duo. Brad had been in and out of jail most of his life for assaults and petty crimes. On one occasion, he had beaten a man unconscious for lightly rear-ending Ian’s car. And the things he had done to Riley…
Brad had always given Chelsie the creeps.
Brad turned to her, an eerie smile forming on his lips. “Look at you, princess. A true ‘rags to riches’ story. Can I get your autograph?”
“Eat shit,” Chelsie spat at him.
Both men looked startled by her response.
“Look, we don’t want any trouble,” Noah said. He stood from his chair and tossed some cash down on the table. “Let’s go, Chelsie.”
Brad threw his hands up. “Hey, I have no trouble to give. If I remember correctly, you’re the one with the anger issues.” His smirk contorted into a malevolent scowl, and he leaned in close to Noah’s face. “But if you lay another hand on my brother, you’ll be in for a whole world of trouble.”
Chelsie shuddered as Noah helped her hop down from the chair and led her to the door. Ian’s gang of losers whistled and cheered as they left the bar.
Noah stalled for a moment and snatched his smokes out of his back pocket. “Fucking assholes,” he mumbled over the cigarette, fumbling for a lighter. “Let’s get out of here.”
He began walking. Then he stopped. He took Chelsie by the elbow and pulled her into an alley next to the bar.
“Noah?” Chelsie glanced around confused, watching as Noah began to pace back and forth.
“You know what? I can’t do this anymore.”
“What?”
“This.” Noah flicked his finger between them. “You and me. I can’t.”
“Noah…”
“What the hell do you want from me, Combs?”
Chelsie’s heart began to race against her chest. Her skin grew hot – a welcome contrast to the elements. Noah’s eyes were searching for answers. His cigarette dangled between his fingers, and Chelsie couldn’t tell the difference between its puffs of smoke and Noah’s breath hitting the icy air.
“I – I just want things to go back to the way they were,” Chelsie told him. “I miss you, Noah. I screwed it all up.”
Noah shook his head and turned around, running a hand through his unruly hair. “You miss me? Well, I’m right here.” He turned back around and threw his arms out in frustration. “You’re hot and cold. You’re running into my arms, and then you’re running away. You want to be friends, but then you kiss me. What do you really want, Chelsie?”
A vision popped into her head. Herself, Noah, and Sam snuggled up on the living room couch watching Toy Story on repeat. There was popcorn, and tickle fights, and unrestrained laughter. There was dinner in the oven and cookie dough ice cream for dessert. There were drawings painted on bright colored construction paper hanging up on the refrigerator. There was warmth. There was music. There was hope.
Tears swelled in her eyes. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep it from quivering. The words were on the tip of her tongue – words she had been burying for weeks. Maybe even months. Words that would change everything.
“I have feelings for you, Noah.”
Chelsie wondered if the breath had left Noah the same way it had left her. His angsty eyes shifted into something else. Something softer, yet infinitely more powerful. Chelsie squeezed her own eyes shut to avoid his gaze. She couldn’t concentrate with him looking at her with such intense scrutiny. And she had to concentrate – her words needed to be right. They needed to be perfect.
When she opened her eyes and began to continue her overdue confession, she was silenced by a familiar figure standing behind them at the opening of the alley. “Noah… oh, my God…”
Ian.
No.
Noah whipped around and shoved Chelsie behind him, using his body as a shield. She clutched to his arm as Ian stepped towards them.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Chelly Bean. I hope you didn’t think I skipped town.” Ian let out a malicious laugh. “I’d never leave you.”
Chelsie paled and her stomach tangled in knots. “Leave us alone.”
“You don’t want to make any more trouble for yourself,” Noah reasoned.
Ian cackled in reply. “You think I’ve got anything left to lose?”
He pulled a pistol out of his coat pocket and brandished it in front of them.
“Jesus Christ, Ian,” Chelsie said, pulling away from Noah and taking a step towards her armed ex-lover. “You’re fucking crazy. You always have been. Are you going to shoot me?” Her fear had escalated into a blind rage. “Get it over with!”
“Chelsie, get back,” Noah urged, grabbing her arm and yanking her towards him.
“I’m sick of this, Noah,” she shouted. “I’m sick of living in constant fear. Just shoot me, goddamnit!”
Ian laughed again and twirled the weapon between his fingers. “You’ve got a little spunk left in you, after all,” he said with a wink. “We had some good times.”
“Either shoot me or leave me the hell alone. I’m done playing your games,” Chelsie begged. She only realized she’d been crying when the hot tears spilled onto her lips. Her chest was heaving with anger. She had meant it – she’d rather be dead than be living in Ian’s perpetual shadow. That was no life at all.
“Listen, man, just put the gun down,” Noah said. He stepped back in front of Chelsie, holding his arm out to protect her.
Ian shrugged and eyed the shiny pistol, running his finger along the barrel. “I rather like it. Chelsie got herself a good one.”
Chelsie frowned and narrowed her eyes at the gun. “That’s your gun,” she whispered to Noah. “He stole your gun.” She gritted her teeth together and looked back at Ian. “You broke into my house?”
“Your house?” Ian sneered. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You mean the residence you occupy with your millionaire boy toy? We both know that will never be your house. That will never be your life. You’re a bottom feeder. You’re just like me, Chelly Belly.”
Chelsie couldn’t help the wave of insecurity from washing over her. Old demons began to resurface. “Fuck you.”
“Ooh,” he taunted. Ian scratched his head with the butt of the gun. “You play the part well enough. I’m sure you’ve fooled a lot of people with your Cinderella act.”
“It’s not an act.”
“Oh, darling, it’s a complete façade. If only lover boy knew the real you.”
Chelsie clenched her fists at her sides, her fingernails leaving tiny half-moon prints on her palms. “That’s not me, Ian. I’m not broken anymore.”
“You’ll always be broken. You’ll always be weak,” Ian said.
“No!” Chelsie rushed forward, pushing Noah’s extended arm out of her path.
“Combs!”
She ignored Noah’s plea and faced her attacker with newfound courage. “You have no power over me, Ian. I won. I survived. You can shoot me dead right now and that won’t change.” Chelsie advanced on Ian, basking in the startled look on his face. “You’re the weak one. You feed off damaged women. You rape because no self-respecting woman would even look in your direction. You spent years in jail obsessing over me.” She looked him up and down with pity in her eyes. She spat at his shoes. “You’re pathetic.”
Chelsie found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. She inhaled sharply. Ian’s hand was shaking as he pointed the pistol between her eyes. “You bitch,” he growled.
“Jesus, just stop!” Noah said. “We can work this out. You don’t need to do this.”
Chelsie looked back at Noah. He was stepping forward with his hand out, as if to offer a truce. The fear was evident on his face. Beads o
f sweat began to pool along his hairline despite the frigid temperature. “Noah, get out of here,” she said to him. “I’m the one he wants.”
“Neither of you are going anywhere,” Ian yelled. He waved the gun back and forth between Chelsie and Noah. “You think I won’t do it?”
“Please,” Noah begged. “Don’t hurt her.”
Ian let out a scathing laugh and pointed the gun back at Chelsie. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t blow her brains out all over your snappy dress shirt.”
Chelsie squeezed her eyes shut. All she could hear was the sound of her pounding heartbeat thudding against her ribcage.
Th-thump. Th-thump. Th-thump.
“Because I’m in love with her.”
The world went quiet. Chelsie’s eyes shot open and she turned to face Noah. Everything around her faded away except for him. There was no gun. There was no Ian.
There was only Noah.
He wasn’t looking at her. His hands were raised in surrender. It was like the words had come naturally – as if they were the obvious response. The only response. Chelsie wanted to rush over to him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and bury her face against his neck. Did he mean it? Did he really… love her? There was a loaded handgun pointed at her head and she didn’t even care.
Noah Hayes loved her.
The world came rushing back when a loud crack pierced her ear drums. Then another. There was a ringing in her ears, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. Her brain felt cloudy, so she blinked her eyes rapidly, then glanced down at her dress. There was no blood. She wasn’t shot.
Noah.
Their eyes locked for a brief and poignant moment before they both looked down at the red stains swelling on the front of his dress shirt – one just between his neck and his shoulder, and a second on the left side of his abdomen.
Ian lowered his gun and took a step backwards. “Fuck love.”
There was commotion at the entrance of the alley as people began to flock to the sound of the gunshots. Ian turned around to look, and Noah took the opportunity to lunge at him with a menacing growl. He knocked the gun out of his hands.
“Chelsie… run,” Noah ordered. He stumbled, and Ian broke free from his grasp.
Chelsie kicked the gun away before Ian could snatch it back up. Ian glanced down at the gun, then took off running out of the alley. To Chelsie’s surprise, Noah chased after him.
“Noah!” she yelled, hiking up her gown and running after them both.
Noah was shot. Twice. Adrenaline coursed through her as she chased after them in her six-inch heels. Her ankle twisted as one of the stilettos broke off. She winced in pain, pulling off both shoes and continuing her pursuit on bare feet. Gravel and shards of glass pierced through her skin, but she ignored the pain, half limping as she tried to catch up.
“Noah!” she called again. Noah was about to chase Ian into the street. A cab was careening around the corner and she froze. “Noah, stop!”
Noah halted at the curb, and they both watched as the vehicle smashed into Ian with a sickening thud, just as he was crossing the busy intersection. Chelsie brought a startled hand to her mouth as she witnessed his body bounce off the windshield and collapse onto the street, lifeless and still.
Bystanders screamed in horror.
“Call 9-1-1!” Chelsie shouted as she caught up to Noah. He fell to his knees on the sidewalk as Chelsie reached his side. “Noah… oh, my God…”
“Fucking bastard shot me,” Noah said, as the shock and adrenaline began to wear off. He raised a hand to his neck and pulled it back, inspecting the crimson fluid left behind on his fingers.
“No.” Chelsie dropped down to her knees in front of him, grabbing him by the shoulders just before he fell backwards. “No, please.” She was sobbing as she pulled him to her, feeling the sticky blood against her chest. A crowd gathered around them.
Noah wobbled as his weight became unsteady. “Hurts like a bitch.”
Chelsie lowered him back, carefully laying his head against the concrete. She leaned over him, tears dripping down her flushed cheeks and mixing with the blood on his shirt. She heard sirens in the distance as she pressed down against both wounds with the front of her palms. “You’re going to be okay,” she sniffed, placing a soft kiss against his forehead. “You’re going to be fine.”
Noah’s eyes began to flutter. He reached his hand out, wrapping it around her wrist. The pools of blood grew larger, like fragile azaleas bursting to life. Chelsie pressed harder against the bullet holes. “Th – There’s so much blood. I can’t stop it, Noah.”
“Hey, look at me.”
His grip on her wrist was getting weaker, and Chelsie choked back a strangled cry. “Noah… I can’t stop the blood.” She addressed the crowd that had circled around them, taking in the looks of panic and concern. “Is anyone here a doctor?”
“Look at me, Combs,” Noah pleaded.
She looked into his green eyes and tried to convey everything she wanted to say to him in a single glance. “I won’t lose you,” she said. She said it with more conviction than she ever had for anything in her life. “I won’t.”
His hand rose and touched her cheek. Chelsie pulled him closer until he was cupping her face. “Promise me you’ll take care of Sam if…”
Noah trailed off and Chelsie shook her head with ardency. “Don’t you dare say that.”
“Please.”
She shut her eyes, squeezing out fresh tears. She used Noah’s fingers to brush them away. “I promise.”
Curious whispers echoed around them.
“Is that the band guy?”
“What happened?”
“Aren’t they famous?”
The sirens grew louder, and Chelsie raised her head to see an ambulance speeding towards them.
“Noah, they’re almost here. Help is coming.” She applied more pressure to the two wounds. Noah’s hand dropped from her face and his eyelids fluttered closed. His skin was ice cold, so she laid her body on top of him, trying to give him as much heat as possible. His heartbeat sounded slow and far away. The sweet, copper scent of blood invaded her senses, mixing with his musky aftershave.
“Stay with me,” she begged, her face pressed against his chest. “Stay with me, Noah.”
20 Chapter Twenty
There weren’t many things in life Chelsie hated more than hospital waiting rooms. Unfortunately, she had seen her fair share.
Riley’s overdose. Her grandfather’s heart attack. Two separate car accidents for old friends. Sam.
Now, Noah.
Chelsie was numb sitting in the stiff, burgundy chair. Home and Garden magazines sat on a small table to her left and ‘Friends’ reruns echoed through the small room. There were others waiting, all with different stories – strokes, pneumonia, broken bones. Chelsie was certain she was the only one waiting for a famous rock star who had been gunned down by her psychotic ex-boyfriend. She had been dodging curious stares all evening. She couldn’t blame them. Chelsie was a sight to see in her designer ball gown covered in blood, and her bare feet. She glanced down at her ankle and noticed minor swelling, along with an abundance of cuts and colorful bruises. She had denied any medical treatment for her ankle. It was an ankle. It was nothing compared to what Noah had suffered.
The nerves and anxiety were all-encompassing. Her mind kept reliving those moments of terror and disbelief. The look on Noah’s face when he realized he’d been shot. Their confessions. The blood. So much blood. Chelsie could still hear the ringing in her ears from the gun. It was a sound she would never forget.
Chelsie looked down and her stomach soured at the sight. Dried blood stains saturated the front of her gown. Stitches had come loose on the bodice, making her one wardrobe malfunction away from flashing the unsuspecting folks at the hospital. The bottom portion of the dress was shredded and torn. Her chest was still painted in Noah’s blood from where she had laid his head against her. Chelsie choked up as she recalled his life slipping awa
y in her arms.
Then there was Ian. He had survived the crash and was brought in by a second ambulance. They were both in surgery fighting for their lives. Chelsie had never wished death upon anyone until tonight. She hoped to God Ian Masterson choked on his own blood.
She looked up when familiar faces rushed through the revolving doors. Chelsie stood to greet Devon, Tad, Miles, and Lisa. Devon and Tad looked strung out as the group approached.
“Holy shit,” Devon said, eyeing her up and down.
Chelsie was met with four incredulous expressions. “Yeah,” she said. Her eyes drifted to Lisa’s stricken face and she couldn’t help the tears from resurfacing.
“Oh, Chels,” Lisa said, her own tears brimming. “Come here.”
Chelsie broke down and collapsed into Lisa’s arms. She didn’t say anything. No words could express how she was feeling. There was nothing to do but cry. When she pulled back, she wiped the wetness from her cheeks.
“Are you hurt?” Lisa asked in concern.
Chelsie shook her head. “The blood isn’t mine. It’s all Noah’s.”
“Fuck,” Tad said, running his hands over his face.
The group made their way to a far corner and sat down. Devon sat next to Chelsie and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “It’s crazy out there with security and police. They’re swarming the place.”
Chelsie shuddered, wishing it was all a bad dream. “I’m glad you made it,” she said to Devon. She inched away from him slightly. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get a hold of you.”
Devon leaned back in his seat and tapped his feet in anxious unison against the waiting room floor. “I’m glad you did.”
“Holy fucking shit, Chelsie!”
Chelsie jerked her head up to see Julia running through the main entrance. Chelsie stood up and gave her friend a tight hug. “Hey,” she whispered. Her voice was ragged and dry.
“It’s a madhouse outside the hospital,” Julia said. She sighed with worry. “God, I don’t even know what to say. Any word on Noah yet? Any updates?”
Chelsie shook her head in disappointment. “Nothing yet.”
Aria (Duet Series Book 1) Page 24
