Page 42

"I can't!" he nearly shouts and then seems to remember himself.

"I can't do this," he bites out with another shake of his head.

Something about the way he's talking clutches my chest. He tries to step past me, but I grab his arm.

He immediately fights my hold so I grab his other arm as well.

But of course, that only frustrates him more.

"Tell me how to fix this," I murmur. Everything is wrong.

Everything has gone wrong, and I can't fix this, can't make Noah okay, can't bring back his family, or force him back to Alaska but I can keep trying to make him understand that I am not his enemy and hope that by some twisted stroke of luck it might be enough in time.

From the moment I'd walked through the front door of this place, I'd been like a hunter seeking out his prey. I'd managed to keep control of my emotions throughout the evening until I saw that man touching what was mine.

"You can't fix anything," he says with a frown. "What the hell are you even doing here?"

He's awfully twitchy right now, eyes darting all over this huge living room full of people like he's looking for someone.

"I had to see you. I went back to your place and Silas told me where you would be. To my surprise, it seemed he wanted me to find you, which only confirmed my suspicions that something serious was going on."

Noah instantly drops his eyes, probably to hide the turmoil swimming in them. But he stubbornly manages to recover enough to let a mask of indifference slip over his features. "Nothing serious. This is my life now. Just accept that this is me.."

"No. You are who you were in Alaska, with me, in my home. That's the real you."

The moment he hears my words he tears free of my hold.

"Noah!" I call as I hurry after him. I suspect he is less interested in his destination and more interested in getting away from me.

I manage to grab his arm to stop his movement.

"Don't!" he bites out.

I put my hands up and say, "I just want to talk. That's it."

Noah looks frantically around us and seems to finally realize he's gone in the wrong direction.

It's a dead end, only the bathroom on the right side.

I see the opportunity and herd him into the empty room and slam the door shut.

Inside I see him clutching the sink, and our eyes meet in the mirror in front of him.

"That wasn't real me," he whispers.

"What?" I'm confused about what he's talking about.

"The thing you said about me being real in Alaska. That's a made-up world. That was a dream. A fucking fantasy."

Without thinking, I grab him and pull him into my chest. He resists at first, but eventually sighs and melts into me.

Holding him tight, I feel how anxious he is in my arms. My fingers brush through the softness of his hair, then down to his back, hoping to pacify him almost like he's some kind of wild animal.

"Just tell me it was all a lie. Tell me you didn't mean any of it. Look at me in the eyes, tell me that you were faking it all. And I will leave."

"Oh I wasn't faking it all. The orgasms were real. You sure know how to fuck."

I sigh. "I know you're trying to push me away, and it's not working. I can see right through this mask. You let me in yesterday. You let me make love to you. You wanted me to take care of you. You said you needed me. Baby, I'm right here. Just talk to me, whatever it is-"

"No no no, I can't-"

"I love you, Noah," I whisper with a tremble in my voice.

"No, don't say that, please no-" His voice disappears into a helpless sob, hands covering his face.

"You have to know, if you want me out of your life for good, then at least you have to know that I love you. I'll always love you."

He struggles to get out of my embrace and I have to let him go, but as he rips his body away from mine, the loose-fitting shirt slips off his left shoulder and it leaves his naked skin completely on display for me.

And right there, on his perfectly defined peck, slightly tanned by the Californian sun it's written-

"You got a new tattoo. What does it say?"

"Nothing." He goes to shove me, wants to turn but my bulk is pinning him against the sink.

I put my palm on his heart and it's there, I see it, in thin cursive black ink, it's my middle name, my Norwegian name–Leif.

"Why do you have this? If you don't love me?"

And that... that seems to be the last straw for Noah because he just explodes.

Erupts like an active volcano, showering me with burning hot lava.

His rage is apparent on his face, making me take an involuntary step back in fright, wondering briefly how long Noah has been building up to this outburst.

"Because I do, I love you but it's killing us both! It's killing you!"

A cold feeling runs through me and I go stock still.

"Noah.." I say as I step towards him. I can't believe he loves me. The hope was always there, I felt it so many times, but to finally hear it... But what does it mean, it's killing me?

"No!" He spits out, voice grown cold and steely but still carrying just the smallest hint of desperation. He is growing more and more distressed, clawing at his own arms and breathing heavily, tears lining his lashes and threatening to fall.

"Fuck Dylan, I love you. I'm here because I love you, I-"

"Hey hey, just..." I try standing in front of him while his chest heaves with his agitated, quickened breaths.

"No!" he yells again, putting out his hand as if to stop me from reaching for him, but I take a small step forward and clutch his wrists in his hands, force his nails to stop running over his forearms, leaving red tracks on the skin.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this! You weren't supposed to come looking for me! " he whispers in despair.

His movements continue to grow progressively frantic in his attempts to free himself from my grip, and I fear that my touch will leave bruises on Noah's wrist, that I will actually cause him physical harm.

"You were supposed to stay away and not care!" His words are getting choked up by his tears, and it's the breaking point. Is this where everything breaks?

"Well, you don't have a choice," I respond, my own voice strained, fighting down the sob that threatens to erupt. "I'm here. I'm here, and I'm not leaving, I'm here-"

"Please, please, please, if you really love me, just go."

And then someone knocks on the door.

He's like a ghost. I want to wrap my arms around him and just take his pain away.

I want to bring him back home. I wish we could go back to the lake, now completely thawed from lazy spring sunshine, lie together, kiss and touch and be okay.

Because this shit right here... It's very fucking not okay.

The person is still at the door and does not want to leave and now there is aggressive banging.

"Who is looking for you?"

"Fuck. Fuck. Have to go. You stay here ok? I'll just leave with them and they're probably going to ignore you."

This is so bad. This is worse than I thought. I take his hand, lacing our fingers. "I'll get us both out of here. But you can't let go of me until we get to my car, do you understand?"

"Dylan-"

"We're leaving together or we're staying here until they break in. No other option, baby. It's you and me."

Finally it seems he got his pretty head around. And when that happens Noah doesn't hesitate. He lets me yank him out the door quickly and then I am shoving past a couple of guys near the door.

"Hey! Noah, where are you going-" one of the guys grabs him by the arm and I see red.

I push the idiot and he goes to the ground.

He lets out a grunt as I haul him to his feet and throw a right hook to his face, probably leaving him with a broken nose.

But to be honest, I don't think I care right now either way.

My need for him is stronger than a thousand bloodied consequences.

The other guy is on me before I realize it. His hands fist my jacket, but with one swift power drive, I manage to slam the smaller man into the wall. His head snaps back against the brick, and Noah appears in my peripheral attempting to pull me away.

"Come on, Dylan, let's go! We have to go!"

My chest is rising and falling hard with jerky breaths but I finally get away. Noah is shaking, as we hurry through the mass of people, his eyes fixed only on the exit.

We leave the house through a side door that takes us into the back garden which is also full of people.

Following a path, we're both quiet. Just breathing and stomping through the crowds at a swift pace, like we're running away for our lives.

Running from all the bullshit in that fucking house.

It's a five-minute walk. When we reach the rental, I pull a keyring out of my pocket.

"Fuck, fuck... I don't... I can't." Noah is short of breath as he leans his back against the car door. "Dylan you don't know what you're doing... what you have done."

I sigh, repositioning so our faces can line up. Cupping Noah's face in my hand I whisper, "Just breathe. It's going to be ok."

Noah holds my gaze and presses our foreheads together. I'd never seen Noah so frightened, so upset.

"There are things you don't... know."

"You can tell me anything," I say with blind sincerity.

"It's..."

"Complicated, I know," I huff.

His fingers comb through my hair. "Just drive. You have to drive. We're not safe here. He has eyes on me. And those guys in the bathroom, they're probably on the phone to him as we speak."

My mind spirals with so many different thoughts. Who is he? But there will be time for conversation, my priority is to take us as far away from this forsaken world as possible.

"Ok. Come on, I'm taking you to my hotel."