But then he speaks and ruins it. “He did the right thing,” he says. “I didn’t think he would.”
“No, he didn’t. He’s under some illusion I’ll have a life. That I’m better off without him–”
“You are.”
“I love him.”
“You think you love him,” Noah replies.
“That’s not it.”
“And I get it, honestly.” He walks over to sit on the edge of the bed. “He saved your life. He took a bullet for you. Multiple. And he’s probably one of the few men who’ve been good to you.”
I watch him, curious.
He shakes his head. “And in a way he’s larger than life.” He meets my eyes. “But he’s dangerous, Mara. And men like him, trouble finds them.”
“I don’t care about any of that. It doesn’t matter.”
“You know the history. Who did it. Who betrayed them. You know the guilt he carries because of that. And as little as I like him, I also feel sorry for him. He’s fucked up. I mean really fucked up. You’ll never fix him. You can’t.”
“Do you think I don’t know that he’s broken? And who says I want to fix him?”
“Don’t cry.”
“I’m not.” I wipe the back of my hand across my eyes to catch the few fallen tears. “I don’t want to fix him, Noah. I just want to be with him. He’s the only person I feel…I don’t know…like he knows me. I don’t have to hide or be anything.”
“I know you too. You don’t have to hide with me. Or be anything with me. And Scarlett too. And Cristiano. And your grandmother. There’s a longer list than you’re willing to accept. You just have to give us all a chance. Don’t you think we deserve a chance?”
They do and he’s right. I know. But this thing with Dante, it’s just more. “I love him,” I say finally. “I can’t live without him.” I won’t.
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
There’s a long moment of silence before he speaks. “I know what you almost did. Going up to those cliffs.”
I look away.
“You have me too, Mara. Always.”
“You can’t fix me, either, you know,” I say without looking at him. “You should live your own life, Noah.”
I put my fingertips to the cool glass of the window, see how the rain is turning to sleet as the temperature cools. Down below are all those people in their bright swimsuits just laughing and living, oblivious even to the fact that it’s winter just beyond the vulnerable divide of the glass wall.
“If you’re not going to eat the waffles,” Noah starts, trailing off. I turn to glance at the plate then at him.
“Did you pour enough syrup on them?” I ask, forcing a smile as I make my way across the room and pick up a section of waffle.
It’s then there’s a popping sound. Then another.
“What—” I start but Noah’s quicker than me. His gaze shifts to the closed bedroom door and in the next instant, simultaneous to the loud crash in the other room he’s on top of me, throwing me to the floor, his full weight on me as I slam down hard. I’m dazed when I hear Noah’s muttered curse. He lifts off me just as the door slams open and from my place on the floor, I see into the fog that’s engulfed the other room and the outlines of the men who were guarding us lying on the floor as that fog begins to creep into the bedroom.
“Cover your nose and mouth!” Noah yells. I’m already coughing, choking on whatever that stuff is.
I roll onto my back to watch Noah lunge for the first man. But the man is twice as big as him, wearing a gas mask and armed. The one behind him, also masked, even bigger.
The man barely glances at me on the floor before Noah crashes into him. I can only watch as he rams his elbow into Noah’s gut before slamming his forearm across his chest, sending him crashing against the wall and knocking the wind out of him.
I barely have time to scream, to tell them to stop, or to pull the Swiss Army knife from my pocket. It all happens so fast. Noah’s down and it’s a miracle he isn’t knocked out by the force of that hit, but he’s coughing, choking.
The second man looks around the room as the first one comes for me, bending to haul me up to my feet by my arm. I sway, the room spinning.
“Hold your breath,” he says. At least I think that’s what he says, over my hacking cough, my panic.
I glance once more at Noah, see his eyes flutter open, see them focus on me as the man throws me over his shoulder like a ragdoll, carrying me off. Out of the apartment where the soldiers who were to guard us lie in heaps. Out into the hallway where more masked, armed men dressed in black from head to toe wait.