Page 165 of Hurt

The two subordinates flinched and went to reach for weapons when they saw it was Elijah. They glanced at their short boss.

Noah stared down the hallway at Elijah. His eyebrows drew together, and those flinty eyes could have stripped paint with the intensity they were staring at him.

For a moment Elijah thought he would leave him there.

“Go. I’ll meet you.” Noah ordered his men and stepped back into the ugly hallway. All the lavish attention to detail spent on the dining room was not given to the hallway to the garage, apparently. The stark white walls were blinding under the florescent lighting and the thin carpet was patterned in something abstract and hideous.

Noah marched over to Elijah, crossing his arms to stare him down.

Elijah felt like his tongue expanded in his mouth. He didn’t know what to say. All he was going on was a feeling that hadn’t yet had time to articulate itself into words. Did he start with an apology? Or should he just confess his feelings?

Would Noah laugh in his face if he did that? After months of frosty silence between them, would his feelings come across as trite? He needed more time to figure this out.

While his mind was reeling, he had been staring at a point beyond Noah’s shoulder.

Noah scoffed. “What? You can’t even look at me?”

Elijah shook his head. “No, that’s not—”

“So, what? You want me now that I’m the leader of White Sand Mesa? Now that I have something? Guess that tracks. You sure as hell didn’t want me when I was a nobody.”

Elijah stared at him. How did this get so convoluted?

Noah rolled his eyes and turned to leave. Elijah reached after him, fingers extending as if he could grab him with just his force of will.

No. No it can’t end like this. Elijah reached for that blunt blade and flung it.

Despite being dull, it snagged Noah’s sleeve and embedded itself in the drywall. Noah swore and stumbled back, staring at the dagger and then back at Elijah.

“Are you stupid?”

“I saw you at the bus station,” Elijah blurted out. His hands were limp at his sides. “You were wearing a pair of yellow high tops and a flannel shirt. Some guy bumped into you, and you threatened to shove your foot up his ass.”

Noah blinked. He looked ridiculous with his sleeve stuck to the wall, but he wasn’t paying attention to that anymore. The expression on his face had softened and he was thinking back to the day he arrived.

“I remember thinking you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen,” Elijah said nervously. He felt like a surgeon had just cut open his chest and exposed his insides to the world. Noah would be able to see it all.

“You didn’t care that the guy was twice your size. You stepped up to him with so much confidence that I was in awe. I wanted to know everything about you—what you sounded like when you laughed and if you had dimples when you smiled.” Elijah licked his lips. “You do, by the way. Little ones, only when you really smile.”

Noah didn’t say anything, but the hostility was gone from his face. Elijah took that as a good sign.

“Then I saw you again and it felt surreal. I didn’t want to…I’m not a good person, Noah. I kill people. And that’s not even the worst of it. How could someone like me ever be good enough for you? Being your friend was enough, I was happy just to have you in my life. But then I found out you like to keep chocolate bars in the freezer, and you have horrible hay fever. You hate alcohol unless it's ninety percent sugar and tastes like a desert. And you roll the sheets up into a burrito when you sleep. You always have cold hands, and you are obsessed with touching things. You put your hands on everything when we go into stores…”

Elijah could have gone on for hours. All the things he found out about Noah could fill a book and it still wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted to fill shelves and shelves of books with stupid facts about Noah.

“I never cared if you were the heir of White Sand Mesa or just some drunk barefoot guy outside a gas station, Noah.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Knowing who I was…how could I dare ask for more from you? I thought pushing you away would keep you safe. Keep you out of this world.”

He didn’t want to see the look on Noah’s face.

There was a thunk as Noah wrenched the dagger from the wall. He stared at it for a moment, understanding dawning slowly. Elijah looked up to see Noah approaching him. He brandished the knife, pressing it to Elijah’s neck.

He could feel the cold steel against his skin. Noah pressed until blood flashed, and then he stopped. Those bronze eyes leaped from the knife to Elijah’s.

“I gave you so many opportunities.”

“I know. I didn’t want to ruin you.”

Noah huffed and dropped the knife. It landed on the carpet between them. Noah replaced the point of the blade with his hand, gently stroking the small mark he made until the blood smeared.