Chapter Five
Noah
This was nothow I imagined my first night on the Whitlock estate would go down. A drunk twenty-year-old vomiting inches from my bare feet, passing out and falling into my arms wearing nothing but underwear.
“Christ.” I pulled her up and cradled her, carrying her to the main bedroom. The mattress barely dipped as I placed her down, her petite frame taking up no more than a quarter of the king-sized bed. I slipped my arm out from under her, and without thinking, I brushed a red curl from her face, the strand slipping down her neck. It was an eighty-degree night, the ivory skin above her black strapless bra shimmering with perspiration under the light of the moon shining through the bedroom window. The curve of her hip made the perfect slope down toward legs that seemed to go on forever.
My gaze drifted back to her face. Those plump lips with the sensual Cupid’s bow stirred the memory of what it felt like against mine. At thirty-five, and the kind of past I managed to build up during the last seventeen years, nothing surprised me anymore. But this fiery redhead’s unexpected kiss sure did. It’s been a while since I felt a kiss all throughout my body like that. Since a kiss managed to silence my thoughts. Years. It’s been years since I felt it. I often wondered if I had known then how things would play out, would I have made the same decisions? Would I have been so eager to commit?
I breathed in deep and willed my mind away from the door where old memories knocked. Memories that would crush my insides if I had to allow them back in.
No. Letting them back in was not an option, not if I wanted to keep the vow I had made. And I was so close. I couldn’t fail now.
I glanced at Sienna’s thighs, her black panties barely covering her ass. My cock stirred.
“Jesus,” I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair before reaching for the silk sheet and pulling it over her body. I couldn’t afford this kind of distraction. Not now.
The door clicked shut behind me as I walked out, straight to the kitchen, the unopened bottle of whiskey calling my name. I cracked the seal and poured myself a good mouthful.
The last thing I needed was the clusterfuck of my demons raging while memories tightened the chains around my chest.
As I tossed back the whiskey, I relished the burn and gripped the edges of the granite counter, willing her face to disappear.
God. The pain was slithering back in. It was dark, black, hungry. It wanted to consume me, bring me to my fucking knees as it did countless times before.
Think about her.
I pinched my eyes closed.
Her face. Her eyes. Her smile.
My muscles pulled taut as I groaned.
Remember her laugh. The sweetness of her voice.
I stretched my arms out, pushing my body back as I clutched the countertop.
Remember how it felt to hold her.
“No!” I roared, clearing everything off the counter with a violent sweep of my arm, glass shattering, shards exploding on the ground.
I forced my hands through my hair, gasping for breath, fighting with every ounce of strength I had not to let the demons eat away at my soul.
“There’s a whole other world out there. I know it. This proves it. Do you believe it, too?”
“I believe in you.”
“Stop!” I knocked at my skull, willing the memories to fucking go away. “Pull your shit together, man,” I muttered to myself, wiping my palm down my face. Just a few more weeks. There was enough work in this goddamn cottage to keep me busy and stop my mind from wandering down the path of the past.
Just a little longer, Noah. Hold your shit together just a little longer.
Soon. Real soon.
I glanced over my shoulder at the closed bedroom door. Sienna was too drunk to be woken up by my outburst. The last thing I needed was to hear questions asked of things I couldn’t stand thinking about.
After cleaning the mess I made, I tried to get some sleep. But I kept on staring at the ceiling, afraid to close my eyes. I wanted to sleep, but part of me feared it. I didn’t want memories to slip through the cracks of my subconscious and present themselves as nightmares. So instead, I started working on the renovations.
I covered all the living room furniture with protective sheets, removing all the paintings and curtain rods from the walls. I had my earpods on loud, listening to some or other heavy metal music—anything that would take my mind off shit.
I stripped one of the walls of its filigree wallpaper, yanking and tearing it off, channeling my frustration and rage into this one simple act. This was the part of renovating I loved the most. The part where I broke everything down. Destroyed brick and glass. An outlet of what I carried inside.
The sun started to peek through the open windows. The California heat was already beating down, my skin hot and clammy, sweat dripping down the sides of my face. I could have switched on the air-conditioning, but I opted for heatstroke rather than cool air since I was a glutton for punishment.
I pulled my earpods out and splashed some water over my face in the kitchen basin, taking a wet towel and rubbing it behind my neck.
A thud sounded, followed by a shriek.
Sienna.