Chapter Twenty-Five
Noah
There wereno words to describe what I felt. Words like relief, thankful, anger, rage—they didn’t come close to what I was feeling. But it was all there. Like a hurricane. It was loud and erratic, the noise and howls of every emotion violently storming inside me. I didn’t know how to control it or let it quiet down so I could just take a single breath without feeling like I was going insane.
I paced up and down, my wild thoughts running back and forth between everything that’s happened the last few hours. From finding out Sienna was missing, to frantically searching for her, hoping like hell my suspicions were wrong. From finding her car by the park to the group of kids playing soccer who told us they had seen a redhead girl with a guy who matched Oakley’s description.
We couldn’t be sure, but I had that prick’s car and cellphone traced within minutes. And thank fuck for that, because if we had arrived a minute later, it would have been too late. He would have done his worst, and the damage would have been…devastating.
I looked at the cuts and dried blood on my knuckles. I wanted to kill him. I still did. If it weren’t for Spencer thinking ahead, informing the police and having them arrive at the house a few minutes after we did, I’d be standing over Oakley’s dead body right now, watching him rot with a motherfucking smile on my face.
The door creaked open, and Doctor Carstens, the Whitlock family physician, came walking out of the bedroom. He approached Spencer, pushing his glasses higher up his nose. “Sienna is fine. Apart from a few cuts and bruises and a black eye with some minor damage to her nose, she’ll be fine…physically.” He glanced from Spencer to Silas to me and back at Spencer. “The trauma of what she’s been through might take some more time to heal. I gave her something for the pain and a mild sedative so she can get a good night’s rest. I’ll be back in the morning to check on her.”
“Thank you, doctor.” Spencer shook his hand, and we stood in silence, watching him leave.
It was a relief that the Whitlocks had their own physician on call, which meant Sienna didn’t have to go through the whole invasive process at the hospital. Money and wealth sure did have its perks.
“Listen,” Spencer started. “She didn’t want you to know about the picture Oakley took because she was afraid to complicate your life.”
I clenched my jaw. “I wish she would have told me.”
“She didn’t want you to be affected by the drama in her life.”
I pulled my palm down my face, inhaling deep. “I could have helped.”
“Probably. But she cares about you...enough to carry some burdens alone.” Spencer gave me a knowing look. “She needs you tonight.”
I nodded, my lips pulled in a thin line.
“Silas, let’s get a drink. We sure as fuck need it.”
“No speech this time,” Silas remarked. “I deserve to have that drink without being reminded how irresponsible I am.”
Spencer grinned. “No speech. Tonight, we’re getting drunk with zero guilt.”
I gave Spencer an appreciative nod before they walked off, and I stood in front of her bedroom door, taking a deep breath before entering.
I heard the shower running, her pills still set on the bedside table.
The room was dimly lit with ceiling lights creating a calm atmosphere as it touched the blush-pink walls. It was the first time I had been in her room, and I took my time as I roamed. This was all her; every color, every piece of furniture, every picture. It was easy to fake it in the outside world, to pretend and be someone you’re not. But a person’s bedroom never lied. It was many weeks, months, years of collected information, all between four walls.
Different perfume bottles stood on her dresser, and I immediately knew which one she favored—the bottle that was more than half empty when the rest seemed almost unused.
Shoes lay on the floor, a dress and T-shirts piled on the couch. Her room didn’t reflect the perfect, calm and collected socialite she pretended to be when having all eyes on her. In here, I could see a part of her no one could. The girl who didn’t take herself too seriously. A woman who didn’t have it all together, but in here, within the confines of these four walls she didn’t care. She embraced the part of her that didn’t need to have her entire life planned out.
A picture of her and Cleo had been stuck on the frame of her dressing table mirror. The tiny spot of discolored paint on the mirror frame proved that there used to be another picture stuck to it. A picture that remained there for a long time.
Three years. Oakley Keller.
I snarled, closing my eyes and clenching my fists, not caring for the pain that stung from the broken skin across my knuckles. I should have killed him. I should have torn his heart out instead of bashing his face against the wall.
A sob came from the bathroom, followed by a pained mewl that shattered my chest into a million fucking pieces.
“Sienna!” I rushed into the bathroom to find Sienna leaning against the shower wall, crying her fucking heart out while water cascaded down her naked body. Stepping into the shower, not caring that my clothes got drenched, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her back tightly against me. The sound of her cries killed something inside me. It carried every emotion, and I felt it in the marrow of my bones—her fear, her pain, her heartache, it all became my own, and all I wanted to do was make it better for her. Ineededto make it better because of how much I fucking cared for this woman. It took a near goddamn tragedy to make me realize what she was to me. She wasn’tjustthe girl whose lips burned mine the first time we kissed. She wasn’tjustthe woman who managed to sever my self-control. She wasn’tjustthe woman who made me feel alive again.
She was so much. More. Than that. She was water. Air. She had managed to become my last hope of ever existing again.
Tightening my arms around her, I held her for as long as she needed me to. I stood there being the man she needed me to be. My past, my pain, my baggage meant nothing. Not now. Not while the girl I cared for had her soul torn wide open, hurting so damn much.