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CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

arden

Back home and in my own apartment, I slept for two days straight.

Directly following, I went into workaholic mode.

I think I needed to busy my brain, and as much as I can do that at Carter’s, sex isn’t numbing me enough anymore.

I need to be reminded I’m not the only person in this world that is going through shit.

Thankfully, I have the perfect job for that.

Serena and Anya are a bit lost without having to care for Dad.

Anya and I mulled things over on my last night at home.

We sat in the living room, huddled together, and talked about our childhood, about Mom, and about Dad.

Tears were shed, and when I finally explained my feelings toward some of the darkest moments in my childhood, Anya reached over and took my hand.

It’s an uphill battle, but I’ve always made every decision with them in mind, and that doesn’t stop just because Dad’s gone.

Carter has been an angel. He might be impulsive and easy to anger, but he has the most thorough and impressive emotional intelligence I have ever witnessed in a man.

His parents did well with him. His heart is so big that it shouldn’t work properly.

He’s made these past few months so much better, even in the worst of it.

And he took care of my sisters while he took care of me. Another debt I can never repay.

There are no more medical bills, but I’m not going anywhere.

We haven’t discussed the deal again, but I’m not detaching myself from him if I can help it.

This arrangement will continue until he doesn’t need me anymore, or until he chooses he doesn’t want me anymore.

I am not going to be the one to bring it up or terminate it.

“I cannot believe that girl was a fraud.”

I glance at Whit, sipping my iced coffee. “Big one. She’s backed off, though. Carter’s lawyer is a wolf.”

Whit snorts. “Now that she’s gained half a million followers.”

“I can’t believe I’ve never noticed her at Icebox before,” Autumn adds.

She’s scrolling through the article that just came out, one that points out every lie and fact-checks every claim.

Lemmy apparently has some connections with some big media companies.

Irina has been silent all across the internet.

“Me neither,” I say. It’s true. She’s very pretty. I was so certain I’d remember a face like hers. But I think part of Irina’s villainous powers is that she has this uncanny ability to blend into every setting. You see her, but you never really see her.

“I’m glad it was all settled by the time you got back.”

Whit reaches over and places her hand on my shoulder, squeezing. I reach up to place my hand on hers.

I know they wanted to be there, but they had to cover my slack at work and I really couldn’t expect them to drop everything at last minute's notice to come to Maine. So, they sent baskets upon baskets to my family’s house instead.

They went to my apartment with their spare key, cleaned it until it was spotless and stocked my fridge.

The amount of flower arrangements that decorated the front of that casket with their names and Susan’s attached was criminal.

And Noah’s, actually.

I repaid them by bringing them to a Pittsburgh game, where Whitney screamed her head off and Autumn fell in love from thirty feet away with every second player on the ice.

She had a particular crush on Reno, which quickly fizzled out when I told her he is the one who actually did sleep with Irina Coasta.

They love Carter again. Their few days spent hating him are long gone. If he ever actually messes up, they’ll hate him again with more vigor than before. That’s girlhood. We face every war together, unapologetically.

“You need a day off, Ards.”

I roll my eyes, inhaling the rest of my coffee until it’s empty. “Give it a rest.”

“You’re going to burn out.”

That’s what I’m hoping for.

“So, let me.” I glance at them both, well-rested and beautiful, while I have giant bags under my eyes and can’t sleep to save my life. I’m praying for the burnout. For the exhaustion. “Maybe it’s what I need.”

“Nobody needs you to burn out,” Whitney corrects, snatching one of the mini muffins from the table. “Not you and not your patients. Take a couple of days. Enjoy them with Big Boy and then come and tell us all the sexy details.”

I smirk, shaking my head. I already had time off when I went home. “I’m fine.”

The door to the staff room opens. All of us look up to see Cooper, a nurse from the Mental Health Unit, poking his head inside.

“Hey,” he says, eyes immediately locking onto me. “You’re needed at the front desk. ”

I narrow my eyes. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Police.”

“Be there in a minute.” I nod, and he vanishes. I glance at the girls. “Actual emergency or Noah?”

Both girls let out a low sigh and push themselves to their feet.

“Noah,” they say in tandem.

We head to the front desk in a line, because we’re girls. We tackle things together.

“Dolly,” Noah says softly, his eyes round and soft. He shoots me this sympathetic look that makes me feel all sorts of uncomfortable and opens his arms. He doesn’t really give me a choice, he just scoops me up against his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

I awkwardly pat his back, glancing at Autumn and Whitney, who are behind the desk with Susan, pretending to be busy. We’re all a bit uneasy about Noah lately. I’m particularly growing tired of him touching me all the time.

“Thank you,” I say, pulling myself out of his arms. His hand stays on my waist, so I take an extra step back. “And thank you for the flowers. They were beautiful.”

I can’t remember which ones he sent, but they were all pretty.

It’s not a lie. I’m also being honest when I say that I appreciated them.

All of the gestures from the people in my life were valued.

The flowers from Noah and the girls, the baskets, the mountains of food that the other WAG’s sent to my family’s door.

I didn’t have to think about anything for that week at home.

Penny and Declan even sent a giant order of different bottles of red wine, so I didn’t lose my mind. They had me covered.

“Of course,” he says, flashing me a small smile. He glances at the desk, and the girls whirl around and start looking at charts that aren’t theirs. When he looks back at me, he nods toward the doors. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

I smile tightly. “Sure.”

When I don’t move, he blinks.

“Outside?”

“No. Right here is fine. I’m working.”

He sighs, hooking his thumbs in his vest. Shoots me a look like I’m being purposefully combative. “Look, I’m sorry about that stuff with Forkerro, okay? I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ll give it a rest.”

“I’d prefer if we didn’t speak about him at all anymore,” I tell him plainly. “He is none of your business, so we don’t have to discuss my relationship with him.”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I say, a bite in my voice. I meet his eyes, showing him how serious I am. “I have my girls for that. I have my own wit and brains. I don’t need you to micromanage the men in my life, Noah. You aren’t my father.”

Not that I had one of those, either, and I did just fine.

Noah’s jaw pulses. “I think I have more credibility at vetting out assholes than your friends do.”

Wrong.

Women can sniff out a bad man much easier than a man ever could, even if he’s a cop. It’s a survival instinct. A background check isn’t always enough to identify a bad apple. Experience with bad apples is what gives women that talent.

I stare at him. He’s unbelievable. “Is that all?”

“Dolly,” he practically whines, and it takes everything in me not to cringe. “He’s going to hurt you. He’s not the right person for you and everyone in the damn city can see it. The things people say about you online? You want that life? ”

“Noah,” I warn him. I don’t look at what people say about me online.

“He’s a serial abuser.”

I snap forward and grab his arm. That’s enough. I am done.

I drag him through the ER doors, a few feet down the hallway to the closest room, and I haul him inside, slamming the door closed behind us. He looks shocked at the fury in my expression, stunned that I finally snapped.

But I will never let someone use that word flippantly. I will never let someone push that title on someone who doesn’t deserve it.

“I’ll say this plainly for you, since you don’t seem to get it,” I seethe.

“This friendship, or whatever this is, is over. I appreciate the flowers, Noah, but I don’t appreciate your inability to respect my boundaries.

You abuse your power as a police officer and as somebody who used to make me feel safe.

I want to be with Carter, so I am going to be with Carter. Understood ?”

Noah’s eyes flash, jaw ticking. “Abuse my power, huh? You weren’t complaining when you needed intel about that psychopath’s assault charges. You weren’t complaining when I showed up here with coffees for you three for years when I’d swing by.”

“I apologize,” I say, dropping my hands. “I shouldn’t have asked you for that.”

That’s all I can offer for the past. I have a bit more say in the future.

“He’s a bad man.”

“You don’t know him,” I remind him. “I do. He’s one of the greatest people I have ever met. If you’re threatened by him, that’s not his problem. That’s yours.”

That strikes a nerve. Noah’s eyes narrow. “Threatened by him? You think I’m scared of a six-three goon on skates? ”

“I don’t know what your issue is,” I admit. “All I know is that you’re a dog with a bone and you won’t let it go.”

“ Threatened ,” he repeats, letting out a sarcastic laugh.

“That man is worth less than the fucking dirt on the bottom of my shoe, Dolly. He has a bit of money. That’s it.

Nice on the eyes, too. Other than that, he’s nothing.

He has nothing . If he didn’t pick up a stick when he was a kid, he’d be nothing. ”

I glare up at him, my blood boiling in my veins now. I am so sick of people reducing Carter to something he is not. Not giving him credit for who he is. What makes him the man I…

“He would be whatever the hell he wanted to be, because he’s Carter fucking Forkerro, Noah. He plays because he’s good , not because it’s the only thing he can do. He is so much more than you’re trying to paint him out to be. He will never be nothing, no matter how badly you want him to be.”

“Bullshit. He’s?—”

I think it’s the spit that hits my face when he cusses. Or maybe it’s the way his face scrunches up, like he’s about to say something unforgivable about the man who kept me together in the thick of my grief. Either way, something inside me snaps, and I do the one thing that I shouldn’t.

I pull back and slap Noah across the face. Hard.

He blinks, his head snapping to the side.

Stunned, I stare at him, my hand tingling.

He brings his hand to his cheek, touching the reddening skin there. After a moment of stillness between us, he huffs a laugh of disbelief.

“I take it back,” he chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head. “You two might be perfect for each other.”

I don’t hear the door open behind me, but I hear Whitney’s voice as clear as day. “Get out, Noah.”

I glance behind me just as he does. Autumn and Whitney are blocking the doorway, glares full of steel .

He doesn’t move.

Whitney takes a step forward, eyes burning into his face. “I said get the fuck out. Now.”

Noah laughs again, still shaking his head. “You three are unbelievable.”

“We know,” Autumn says with a smile.

“Don’t call me for shit,” Noah snaps, whirling on all three of us as he passes. I see the imprint of my fingers on his cheek. “Handle all of your bullshit on your own from now on, alright?”

“Oh no, how will we ever survive?” Autumn says theatrically, pretending to faint against the door with her hand on her forehead.

Noah glares at her so venomously that I break into a fit of shocked, furious laughter, and the chorus of giggles from the three of us follows him down the hall like his own, personal death march.