Chapter 163
Noah
The moment we landed home, my gut twisted into knots. All those
old ghosts–every slammed door, every bruise, every scream–came
creeping back at once. I felt twelve again, too small, too scared,
already bracing for the next hit. I needed a moment. Just a damn
second to put myself together before I could walk back into the root
of all my evils.
But I had Aiden. That was the only difference between then and now.
His hand at the small of my back, the weight of his presence beside
me–it was enough to keep me breathing, to keep me from breaking
down or doing something I’d regret.
The hospital smelled like bleach and sickness, that sterile stink
clinging to every wall, every floor tile. The halls were a blur of white
coats and squeaking shoes, with the low hum of machines in every
direction. People walked past me like I was invisible, but inside I was
on fire. Each step deeper into those corridors felt heavier, like
dragging chains.
When we reached her room, my mom was there. She shot up from the
chair the second she saw me. “Noah,” she whispered, tears already
spilling. She clung to me hard, sobbing into my chest, and for the first
1/7
Chapter 163
time I realized how small she felt. Fragile. Like a stiff wind could snap
her in half.
I hugged her back, trying to be strong when I wasn’t. “Mom,” I
muttered, choking. Then I pulled back just enough to glance at Aiden.
“This is Coach Mercer. He’s…he’s the reason I got here so fast. He
helped me with everything.”
She wiped her eyes, tried to smile through the tears, and reached out
to squeeze his hand in thanks. I didn’t miss the way Aiden’s other
hand hovered just behind my back, steadying me.
But my eyes moved past her to the bed.
Emily.
She looked so damn young. Sixteen, but in that moment she could’ve
been ten again, my baby sister curled in on herself. Pale skin washed
out under the harsh hospital lights, her face too thin, her body lost
under the sheets. Beautiful still–always–but like a porcelain doll
someone had dropped, cracked in places you couldn’t glue back
together.
My chest caved.
I moved to her side, pulled up the chair with shaking hands, and sat.
0
217
Chapter 163
For a long time I couldn’t speak. I just reached out, fingers trembling,
and took her hand. Her skin was cool and soft, so much smaller than
mine. My thumb brushed over her knuckles, and I saw it–the purple
shadows under her gown, peeking from where the fabric slipped.
Bruises. Dark and ugly.
Those weren’t from a fall. No way in hell.
How did they not see? How could anyone still believe the accident
bullshit?
My throat burned as tears slipped free. “Em,” I whispered, broken. I
leaned down, kissed her forehead, and the feel of her damp skin
against my lips shattered me. “I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I
should’ve been here. I should’ve protected you.”
Her eyelids fluttered, slow and heavy. She winced like even the act of
waking up hurt. But then her lashes lifted, and she looked at me-
those same soft brown eyes that always lit up when I called her kiddo.
They filled instantly with tears.
“Noah,” she breathed, voice scratchy and weak.
“Yeah, baby, it’s me.” My voice broke all over again. “I’m here.”
She started crying, and I was already gone. I held her hand tighter,
317
Chapter 163
bent close. “Tell me the truth,” I begged, whispering through the ache. “Please, Em. What happened? Did he ”
Her fingers tightened weakly on mine, “Let it be,” she murmured. “It
was an accident”
“Don’t lie to me,” I whispered, fierce and shaking, “Not you. Please, I
need=”
The door opened.
I froze,
And there he was. My father.
My childhood demon, somewhat smaller than I remembered in
stature, but with that same overpowering presence that took my
breath away, and that easy, practiced smile plastered on like it could
hide anything, He glanced first at Alden without really seeing him,
like he was taking measure of an unknown suit in the room. Then he
looked at me and folded his face into something soft and practiced.
“Noah,” he said, voice warm, with that gentlemanly ease he’d always used when he wanted to make people forget the rest. “Your mother
told me you were coming.” He stepped forward and put a hand on my
shoulder the way a man does when he wants to seem reassuring.
A17
Chapter 163
Time split into slow pieces. For a second I just stood there–Aiden’s
eyes finding mine across my mom’s hunched frame, that tiny gesture
from him that told me not to erupt yet. I breathed, forcing the rage
down like a leash.
“What happened to her?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
My father’s smile didn’t crack. “She slipped,” he said, easy and
practiced. “Fell down the stairs.”
“How did that happen? She’s gone down those stairs since she could
walk…” I questioned his theory.
He ignored the accusation on the table, giving me one of his well-
rehearsed line. “We were arguing, had a little scuffle–and she
slipped, that’s all.” He studied my face as if gauging my reaction, as if
I were some kid who’d been told bedtime stories about gravity.
“She just slipped,” I said. “On her own?”
He shrugged diplomatically. “Accidents happen in every household,
Noah. You know how that is.”
“No, dad. I don’t know how that is, really… The only accidents I’ve
known were those with you around!”
5/2
Chapter 163
“I don’t know what you’re trying to accuse me of, but if that’s what
you came for, you can get the fuck out!” He hissed an inch from my
face.
Before the thing could get worse, Aiden touched my arm—just a light, precise pressure–and stepped forward a fraction, attention toward the bed. He folded his voice, calm but carrying authority. “Maybe now
isn’t the time for whatever this is. The doctors need room, and she needs quiet.” He nodded toward Emily, who was listening, small and
hollow–eyed.
My father’s eyes narrowed as he took Aiden in, gaze dragging up and down, cataloguing him like a threat. Then his attention cut back to me, sharp and measuring, before snapping right back to Aiden–cold, suspicious, unblinking.
“And who the hell are you?”
Comments
Write Comments
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
