Noah's Nemesis

by Dale Mayer

  “Not happening.”

  He looked up at Levi and said, “Well, I’m not going to jail either.” And with a movement that completely stunned Noah, Maxwell slammed the knife into his own throat.

  Immediately gurgling sounds erupted, as blood gushed out, and air escaped. They rushed forward to stop the bleeding, but it was already too late. He had managed to not only stab in but had also pulled down, slicing an artery. It was over within seconds.

  Noah looked over at Levi. “That’s a hell of a way to end this.”

  “It is, indeed.” Levi looked back at the second man. “What happened here?”

  “Maxwell murdered him, his own patsy. I took him down, but this guy finished the job.”

  Levi said, “We’ll have to bring the cops in on this one. It’s all related to the attacks at the hotel.” He looked over at Noah. “You better go see Ice. Can you walk?”

  “Of course I can walk,” he said, already ripping off his T-shirt and binding up his leg.

  “Maybe not,” Levi said, studying him. “You’re looking pale.”

  “Bullshit,” Noah said, but, when he gauged how far he had to walk, he started to swear. “Goddammit,” he said, “that’s got to be a couple miles.”

  Levi laughed. “Absolutely,” he said, “but we’ll give you a hand.”

  “I’ll do it,” Noah said, and he limped his way toward the road.

  Chapter 15

  When the vehicle came flying into the compound, Di raced to the door, along with Ice. And, sure enough, Rory and Logan were carrying Noah.

  “Oh my God,” Di said. “What happened?”

  “Gunshot wound,” Rory murmured. “Looks like it missed the bone. It’s his leg, just above the knee by a couple inches.”

  Ice immediately took command of the situation. “Get him downstairs,” she said.

  They carried him through to the clinic, and, although Di wasn’t in any way helpful, she couldn’t leave him, and she followed the entire troop. She stood off to the side ever-so-slightly, as she watched Ice go to work. “If there’s anything I can do,” she said hesitantly, “let me know.”

  “Come up here and hold his hand,” Ice ordered her. “He’s unconscious, but he needs to know that you’re here.”

  “I don’t have a problem doing that, but what difference will it make to him?”

  “When we’re unconscious, we’re still in a state that allows us to know what goes on around us. People tend to do much better if the people they love are there.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t say anything to that. “Do you really think he cares? We only just met a matter of days ago.”

  “How would you doubt it?” she said. “You haven’t had much time together, but, in all honesty, that’s been very normal for the rest of my team here too.”

  “What the hell is it that you’ve got going on here?”

  “No idea,” she said, “but it appears to be magic.”

  “Well, for some people it is.”

  Ice looked up briefly and gave her a warm smile. “I’d say welcome to the family, but I’m not sure you’re ready to hear that yet.”

  Di just stared at her in astonishment. “No, I don’t think I am. I mean, I get that something is between us, but—”

  “You’ll work it out,” Ice said comfortably. “Don’t believe me if you don’t want to,” she said, “but one question. Is he holding your hand back?”

  Di nodded slowly. “There is some strength in his grip. As if he’s there but maybe under layers and layers of pain.”

  “That’s a good way to look at it,” she said, “but it means he knows you’re here.”

  “He’d be doing this with anybody’s hand,” she said, but just then her hand was squeezed even more. “Or maybe not.” She leaned over, gently brushed his hair off his hot sweaty face. She squeezed Noah’s fingers gently, her other hand reaching up to stroke his cheek and his neck. “Will he be okay?” she said, keeping her eyes averted from the blood.

  “Yep,” Ice said.

  Di checked out the thigh wound and then winced. “That looks terrible.”

  “Well, it’s not so bad here. See? It went in at an angle, missing the bone, so it’s a flesh wound at this point,” she said. “A good one but it went through, so it could have been much worse.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that he’s lucky,” she said cheerfully.

  “Doesn’t look like he’s lucky,” Dianne whispered.

  “Nope, he’s good,” she said. “A few stitches, then clean it all up, and he’ll be good to go.”

  “He can’t walk on that though, right?”

  “Not for a while yet, no,” Ice said. “But he won’t need to go to the hospital.”

  “Well, that’s good,” Di said, with relief. And, when she thought about it, she said, “That’s amazing actually. Do you do all the medical here?”

  “I do a lot of it. We determine how bad it is, and, if they need to go in, they go in. But most of the guys here don’t like hospitals, so we avoid it if we can.” Ice looked up at her. “Speaking of that, don’t you have some stitches that need attention?”

  “Just a few, and they’ll need to come out at some point. I didn’t realize not going to the hospital was an option,” she said. “When I was … attacked, Noah ordered me into the hospital and then again when I was drugged.”

  Ice looked at Di, chuckled, and said, “Yeah, but you weren’t knowledgeable enough at the time to actually stop Noah from forcing you to go.”

  “Well, that’s true. Besides, I don’t think he would have listened.”

  “Nope, not likely,” Ice murmured. Finally she stepped back and, with a clean cloth, washed up the rest of his leg and then the rest of his body. Straightening, she said, “He’s good to go.”

  “Whatever that means,” Di said. She looked at the leg and said, “Wow, with the bandage on, it doesn’t look too bad at all.”

  “Nope, it’s all a matter of minimizing the damage going forward. He has to rest and make sure it’s not getting infected.”

  “What’s that mean? Bed rest?”

  At that, Noah opened his eyes. “Like hell.” He glared at Ice.

  She glared right back. “Three days,” she said, “in bed.”

  He shook his head. “Not happening.”

  She reached down, tapped him lightly on the chin. “That’s an order.” And, with that, she turned and walked out.

  He glared as she left and tried to sit up immediately. Di pushed him back down again. “Don’t you start with me,” she snapped. “We went to hell and back, waiting for them to get you out of the shoot-out.”

  He looked at her, smiled, and said, “Worried you, did I?”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “You’re not starting that.”

  “Why not?” And then his gaze turned crafty. “I know one way to keep me in bed.”

  When she caught his meaning, she burst out laughing and then flushed bright red. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “If you’re injured, you’re injured.”

  “I’m not that injured,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

  She snorted. “What the hell is wrong with you guys? You’re not superhuman.”

  “No, but we do understand the value of life because so often we come up against death,” he said quietly.

  She frowned as she thought about it and then nodded. She leaned forward, kissed him on the cheek, and said, “I’m very happy to see that you’ll be okay.”

  “I am too,” he said, as he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her inexorably closer. “But if you’ll kiss me …” And this time he pulled her down, where he could kiss her properly.

  Flushed and heated, her body now felt something far more than she had ever expected. She looked at him.

  “Like I said,” he murmured, stroking her bottom lip with his thumb. “I could handle three days in bed, if I’m not alone.”

  She flushed. “That’s not fair,” she said, “and, besides, Ice w
ouldn’t let you.”

  “Hell, Ice may not let me,” he said, “but Levi would.”

  At that, she burst out laughing. “You know what? That’s probably quite true,” she said.

  “Besides, don’t you think Ice has any idea how this works?” he murmured. “She’s used to us.”

  “Maybe,” Di admitted, “but I’m not.”

  “You’ll get used to it,” he said. “We just need to give you a little bit longer.”

  “What’s a little bit longer?” she asked.

  “Three days, starting now,” he said. “I’m not kidding about going up to my room.”

  “Shouldn’t you wait here for somebody to help you?”

  “Nope,” he said. He shifted, sitting up.

  He looked a little shaky, so she immediately stepped closer and put an arm around him. “Here. Let me help you.”

  He grinned down on her. “I don’t think that’ll work too well.”

  “I can be a big help,” she said.

  “I’m sure you can. We’ll take the elevator up to my room.”

  “Your room?”

  “Yep.” He hopped up and stood on his good leg. He swore and said, “There’s really no hope for it. I’ll have to put some weight on it.”

  “No, you’re not,” she said, and she rushed over and grabbed crutches.

  He nodded and said, “I wasn’t thinking about that.” But, with crutches under his arms, they made their way to the elevator and straight up to his room. By the time he made it to his bed, she saw the sweat on his brow.

  “You need to lie down and rest,” she exclaimed. “You heard the boss. Three days. Three days in bed. Before you know it, they’ll be over.”

  But she was wrong. He was not a good patient and didn’t appreciate being locked up for three days. By the time the second day rolled around, she was losing patience.

  “Just go,” he said. “You don’t have to sit here and babysit me.”

  “Good,” she said, “because that’s what I wasn’t doing in the first place.”

  He just glared at her and threw himself backward on the bed.

  “Why are you so cranky anyway?”

  At that, he didn’t even bother answering; he just waved his hand at her.

  “Well,” she said, standing there, glaring at him, “I know you’re hurt and all.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “But that’s no reason for being grumpy or for this bad behavior.”

  He snorted.

  She laughed. “Now who’s being the sad puss?’

  “Hey,” he said, “I’m injured.”

  “Oh, so now you’re injured,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. She walked over and sat down on the side of the bed. “If you’re bored, what do you want to do?”

  “Not a whole lot I can do,” he grumped.

  “True,” she said. “Okay, I’ll just leave you to it.” As she went to stand up, he reached out and grabbed her hand.

  “Sit.”

  “I’m not a dog,” she muttered.

  “Please sit,” he said, “and visit for a bit.”

  “I haven’t been visiting?”

  He shrugged.

  She smiled, looked down at him, and said, “You’re acting like a two-year-old.” He glared at her. She leaned over, kissed him on the nose, and said, “Okay, so maybe a fourteen-year-old.”

  He rolled his eyes at that. “That’s hardly any better.”

  “Maybe not,” she said, “but I get that you don’t like being sidelined.”

  “Nope, I sure don’t.”

  “How long will she keep you off work?”

  “A long time,” he said.

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “It is what it is,” he said, “but I’d rather be out by the pool.”

  “Well, you could ask her if that’s doable.”

  “If she says three days in bed, you can bet it’ll be three days in bed.”

  “I see a lot of respect for Ice and for what she says.”

  “She’s usually right,” he said. “I just don’t particularly like it.”

  “Well, I’m surprised it’s three days. I would have thought forty-eight hours would have been enough.”

  “Me too, unless of course she thought this would need a longer recovery time for some reason.” He rolled over, staring at her.

  She saw the thoughts rolling around in his head.

  Then he started to grin. “Or something.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, I’m pretty damn sure that she said three days because of you.”

  She stared at him uncomprehendingly. “What?”

  He tugged her down, so she was flat across his chest. “I’m pretty sure she’s matchmaking.”

  “You’re injured,” she protested. “You can’t fool around in bed.”

  “I sure as hell can,” he said in astonishment.

  She stared at him, couldn’t let the idea go. Curiously she asked, “Really?”

  He grinned. “Absolutely.”

  “Hmm. I wonder about that,” she said.

  “Don’t need to wonder,” he replied, touching her gently under the chin. “Anytime you’re ready.”

  “What’s it got to do with me being ready?” she asked. “You’re the injured one.”

  “If you’re waiting for me,” he said, “I’m more than 100 percent ready to give this thing a roll.”

  “I don’t want you hurt,” she said immediately. “It’s not good for you. It will stress your system.”

  “Like hell,” he said succinctly.

  She burst out laughing. “That is not at all what Ice intended. She wanted you to rest.”

  “I’m here. I’m completely rested,” he said, flopping back on the bed, his arms wide.

  And, true enough, he seemed perfectly fit. As evidenced by his body on display, since he wore only shorts and nothing else. She studied him, feeling her curiosity and a whole lot more warming inside. She shook her head. “No.”

  “What’s holding you back?”

  “You’re injured.”

  “If that’s the only reason,” he said, shaking his head, “we can fix that immediately.”

  “No,” she said, “we can’t.”

  “Unless you don’t want to.”

  She frowned at him. “This is awkward,” she said.

  “Oh, you know something? You’re right,” he said. He tugged her forward and asked, “How about this instead?” And he kept tugging her until she sprawled across his chest, and, grasping the sides of her head gently, he pulled her toward him.

  She just waited while his lips claimed hers, and it was the same damn magic she’d felt before. When he finally lifted his head, she said, “You’re deadly.”

  “No,” he said, “we’re deadly together. It doesn’t always happen like this,” he whispered and kissed her again, then again and again.

  By the time she came up for air, her shirt was gone and so were her pants. She stared at herself, down to panties and a bra. “How the hell did you do that?”

  He gave her a smug look. “Practice.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t ever want to hear about that again.”

  He shook his head. “Doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” he said. “I spent all that time just getting it right.” He pulled her gently into his arms.

  “I still don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered.

  “You won’t,” he said. “I promise.” But she still frowned. He smiled a knowing smile, and she realized she was as nude as he was. She sat up on the side of the bed and stared at him. “Wow.” Scars and bruises were all over his heavily-muscled body. She reached out a gentle finger. “This doesn’t look very good.”

  “It’s healing,” he said, dismissing it. “That’s what they all look like when they’re healing.”

  She looked at him. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Absolutely.”

  She leaned over and gave it a kiss, and then another one and an
other one. And he lay here, gently accepting everything she did. She realized just how much power there was in that moment. She kissed him again and again, her fingers and hands slowly exploring his body. The ribs, the muscles between the ribs, the six-pack under her hand, as she stroked gently down to his belly button. She dropped kisses on his bruises, kisses on his scars.

  “If you want to keep that up,” he said, “all of me is bruised and scarred up.”

  “I’ll get there,” she murmured tugging on his boxers. He obligingly lifted his hips for her to remove the offending cloth. She brushed her hair along his chest and his erection—standing up, ready for her attention. She gently dropped kisses on the edge and down the side of it. He shuddered beneath her, giving her an even greater glimpse at the power she held over him, as he remained completely open to her touch. She whispered, “I don’t think it’s ever been like this. Most guys don’t like to let me take control.”

  His eyes flew open. “I do,” he said. “Do whatever you want.”

  “Really?” she asked, in delight and curiosity.

  He immediately nodded. “Absolutely,” he said, “I’m here for your pleasure.”

  She smiled. “You might regret that.”

  “I might,” he said. Then he grinned. “Remember though that turnabout is fair play.”

  She nodded. “I can handle that.”

  “I wonder.”

  She lowered her head and took his erection into her mouth, gently teasing the end with her tongue, while he shuddered beneath her. His hips lifted in an instinctive movement, as old as time. She ran her hands up and down the length of him, before sliding them inside his thighs and around, coming up under his buttocks and across to his chest.

  Finally she couldn’t stand it any longer, and she slid up his chest, kissing every inch of the way, until she got to his lips, where she pulled his lower lip into her mouth and suckled gently. All the while she straddled his member and slowly lowered herself down. “I don’t want to hurt your leg,” she whispered.

  “Good thing the bandage is far enough away then, isn’t it?”

  She looked back and realized the wound was a good twelve inches away. “You have to lie still,” she said.

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying.”

  She grinned. “No trying allowed. You have to succeed. Otherwise we’ll get in trouble.”