Mine To Hold (10 page)

They’re all dangerous.
She understood
that. Danger clung to Noah as surely as it clung to Drake and
Trace.

But she wasn’t afraid when she was with Noah.
Drake, on the other hand, made her nervous.

“Someone trashed your hotel room here, did
you forget about that?” Noah had his bag filled. Talk about a
record-breaking packing job. If he kept running off so much, she
wondered why he didn’t always have a bag at the ready.

“I didn’t forget about that,” Claire snapped
back. “But I hardly think that will be an issue here at
York
Towers.
I hope you have better security than what they’ve got
at the Hamlet.”

His lips twisted and a gleam appeared in his
eyes. “We do, baby. But when word of Harrison’s death hits the
media, you could get dragged into the mud. I want to make sure no
reporters get close to you while I’m gone.”

“You think it’s all going to get stirred up
again, don’t you?” That was what she feared.

“I think reporters like juicy stories. The
gorier, the better.” His voice was grim. The gleam had vanished
from his eyes.

Claire looked away from him. “So I just sit
here and twiddle my thumbs while you rush off and tend to your
business?” Since she didn’t have a job anymore, what else was
she—

“No, Claire, you stay here and you get to
work learning more about my company and the staff at York
Towers.”

Her gaze flew back to him. “But, you
said—”

“The rules are different with you.” He strode
toward her. Dropped the bag. Wrapped his hands around her
shoulders. “
Everything
is different with you.”

And everything felt different with him.

Noah kissed her. It was a rough, hard kiss,
and she liked it. Claire was discovering that she liked quite a
bit…with him.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t leave.” No, had she just said that?
It’s Harrison’s death. Everything is stirred up. The memories
are so strong right now.

“I have to do this.” He let her go. “I’ll be
back for you, baby.”

Then he just…walked away.

Left her.

Claire stayed in their bedroom.
No, his
bedroom. His suite.
She looked down at her hands. At the scars
on her wrists.

She thought about life.

About death.

And about what it would feel like to
kill.

***

When the limo door shut behind him, Noah
pulled out his phone. He’d already called Drake Archer earlier,
before he’d even left D.C., so this phone call was for Trace
Weston. Noah knew that he could count on both Trace and Drake to
have his back.

“I heard,” Trace said when he answered the
phone. “The senator’s dead.” A pause. “Shouldn’t you be
celebrating?”

Noah didn’t answer that particular question.
“I know you’ve got pull down in Alabama.” The same pull that Trace
had used a while back when he’d made sure Ethan Harrison didn’t get
paroled. “Use that pull for me now. I want in to see the SOB.”

“You’re not serious.” Trace’s voice hardened
as he demanded, “
Tell
me that you’re not serious.”

“Claire’s mine now, so yes, I’m fucking
serious.” He had to see Ethan Harrison with his own eyes.

“Right now? Jesus, his old man isn’t even
cold yet and—”

“Something is happening. I know it. Claire’s
room gets trashed, the senator dies—
just the way her parents
died—
that’s no damn coincidence.” His breath heaved out. “I
don’t want Claire in danger, and this whole tangled mess leads back
to Ethan Harrison. He needs to know that Claire is off-limits. Now
and forever.”

“He’s in jail, man. He can’t get to her. You
just need to settle down—”

The hell he did. “Like you settled down when
Skye was in trouble? Did you
settle down
then, Trace? Or did
you do what damn well had to be done?”

Trace had killed to protect Skye. If anyone
could understand what Noah was doing, it should be Trace.
Maybe
he won’t have my back after all.

Silence hummed over the line. “You can’t kill
him while he’s in prison. That’s too much, even for you.”

Noah felt his lips curl. “I’m not planning to
kill him in prison. I’m just going to deliver a message to him.”
One that had to be personally delivered.

Trace sighed. “I’ll get you in.”

“I knew you would.”

“But I’m going on record as saying that this
is a
mistake
, Noah. A huge mistake.” Trace’s voice hardened.
“This isn’t like you. Drake’s the crazy-ass one. You’re more
controlled, you’re—”

He thought about the faint scars on Claire’s
wrists. “I’m not controlled when it comes to her.”

Then he ended the call. His hands fisted, and
he planned.

***

It was nearing sunset when Noah passed
through the gates of the Holman Correctional Facility in Atmore,
Alabama.

The guards were waiting for him, and they
took him straight to the warden’s office.

Warden Jeremiah Quill was sweating when he
shook Noah’s hand. “This is…highly unusual.”

Noah didn’t care how unusual it seemed. “I’m
sure inmates get visitors every day.” He made sure to meet the
Warden’s stare directly as he said, “I’m just another visitor.”

The warden’s eyes darted away from him.
How much pressure had Trace put on the guy?
“Ethan Harrison
is waiting for you in one of our holding rooms.” He led Noah down
the hallway.

Prison bars were to the right.

To the left.

“Is Ethan Harrison kept in general
population?” Noah asked, curious.

“No.” The warden glanced back at him. “His
father wouldn’t allow that.”

“His father’s dead now.”

The warden lowered his voice, “But Harrison’s
great-uncle is the governor. You don’t quite seem to understand how
things work down here.”

He was getting a crystal clear view.

The warden stopped in front of a heavy, metal
door. “He’s inside. A guard’s there, too.”

Noah lifted a brow. “Is the guard supposed to
be for his protection or my own?”

The warden swallowed. “It’s protocol.”

It sounded to Noah as if protocol got screwed
a lot down here.

The warden opened the door.

Noah stalked inside. Ethan Harrison was
cuffed to an old table. He wore a bright, orange jump suit.

Nine years ago, the guy had been a fit, blond
teen. Noah had seen Ethan’s pictures when he’d explored Claire’s
past. He’d wondered how Ethan had fared in prison.

It looked like the guy had been on a
vacation.

Ethan’s face was tan. His hair even blonder.
His shoulders were wide. He appeared fit—and, worst of all, the
bastard was smiling.

“I know who you are,” Ethan said as he
inclined his head toward Noah.

“Good for you.”

Ethan leaned forward. He never even glanced
at the warden. “Did Claire send you to see me?”

Noah hated to hear her name come from that
jerk’s mouth.

“I miss Claire.” Ethan’s smile stretched.
“But I have her pictures to keep me company.”

Noah tensed.

“They help me to get through the days. And
the nights.”

Noah pulled out the chair across from Ethan.
“You’ve had someone watching Claire.”

“My father liked to keep track of her.”
Ethan’s eyes gleamed with what looked like amusement. “Did you
hear? He died last night. Someone shot him.” Ethan raised his
cuffed hands and tapped his forehead. “Right in the head.”

“Your father had a private investigator
tracking her?” Noah kept his focus. This was important. He wouldn’t
let the other man bait him. Noah’s rage built, but he held it back.
“And he sent you the information that the PI gathered.”

Ethan tilted his head. He smiled at Noah.
That smile was getting on Noah’s nerves. “Claire will tease and she
will flirt,” Ethan said, “but she won’t sleep with you.” He
shrugged. “She can’t. Claire knows she belongs to me.”

“Your father had someone watching her in New
York.” Noah was trying to put all the pieces together. “He told you
that Claire was with me.”

“I get to make one phone call a day.” Now
Ethan glanced at the warden. “Even get to use his office. Thanks,
Warden. I’ll be sure to let my great-uncle know just how well you
treat me. Bet there will be some kind of bonus coming your way
soon.”

Noah wanted to drive his fist into the guy’s
face.

“I used that phone call last night. Talked to
my father. He seemed to think you and Claire were together.” Ethan
shook his head. “But he was wrong.”

“Your father was wrong about a lot of
things.”

Ethan’s smile dimmed.

“He thought you were the poor, misled boy,
didn’t he?”

“He thought I was obsessed. Claire’s the type
of woman that can obsess a man.” Ethan’s gaze turned calculating.
“But that’s why you’re here, right? Claire’s obsessed you.”

It was Noah’s turn to smile. “I can see you
for what you are. I’m not some drunken old man.”

Ethan’s mouth tightened. “A man obsessed will
do anything for the woman he loves, and I do love my Claire.”

No, he didn’t. He was a twisted jerk who
needed to forget Claire. But that wasn’t happening. Noah knew that
with absolute certainty now. “You’re never getting out of this
place.”

“Because my parole was revoked?” Ethan’s
brows climbed. “I only got fifteen years for the murders. I’ve
served nine already. Six more years…
Hello, Claire.”

The hell that would happen.

“And you know…with my father dying…I wonder
if I’ll even get a special circumstances waiver…” Ethan’s stare
darted to the warden once more. “With guards, of course, I might
get to attend my beloved father’s funeral.”

Sonofabitch.

“So I will get out. One way or another.”

Noah had wanted to see Ethan Harrison for
himself. To talk to him. Sometimes, monsters weren’t as bad as you
thought.

Sometimes, they were.

He can’t ever get near Claire again.

“Claire has stayed true to me all these
years,” Ethan murmured. “And I’ll always be true to her. I did
exactly what she wanted, and she’ll never forget that.”

“Still trying to spin that line of bull?”
Noah asked Ethan, and he shook his head in disgust. “I told you,
I’m not your drunken old man. Claire didn’t get you to kill her
parents.”

“Are you so sure about that?” Ethan laughed.
“Even Claire’s closest friends weren’t sure. Claire…she has
secrets. A darkness inside. With her, what you see isn’t what you
get.”

Noah flattened his hands on the table. “There
will be no more investigators who follow Claire. No one will watch
her. No one will report to you.”

Ethan laughed again.

“If I see anyone even
trying
to watch
her, they’ll have to deal with me.”

“The big, bad, hotel owner.” Ethan shuddered.
“How terrifying…oh, wait, I’ve been locked up with murderers and
rapists for
nine years.
You don’t scare me. Nothing scares
me anymore.” And his façade dropped right then.

The humor, the mockery—vanished.

Evil remained.

“Claire owes me,” Ethan snarled. Spittle flew
from his mouth. “And the bitch will pay me back
everything.
”

“I’m giving you fair warning,” Noah gritted
out as his back teeth clenched. “A warning that needed to be
delivered in person.” And he didn’t care if the guard was listening
or if the warden overheard his words. Noah leaned forward. “You
don’t know the man I used to be.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed.

“That man would have killed you the instant
he walked into this room,” Noah said flatly.

“The guard—”

“I would’ve been across the table. I would
have snapped your neck before you even had the breath to
scream.”

Ethan swallowed.

“You forget Claire Kramer. You forget her
now. Or the next time we meet…” Noah smiled at him. A smile that
held a grim promise. “You’ll be a dead man.”

Then he rose and walked toward the door.

The warden followed him out, and the guy was
sweating even more. Jeremiah ran a shaking hand over his face.

“I want to see his cell,” Noah told the
warden.

Jeremiah hesitated.

Noah just kept staring back at him.

A quick nod, then Jeremiah was leading the
way for him. Noah wondered what sort of pressure Trace had applied
in order to get the warden so compliant. Had it been cash? Or
another, darker motivation?

Trace has a way of finding out everyone’s
secrets…and using those secrets against his enemies.

Noah walked past dozens of cells. After about
five minutes, Jeremiah stopped near a cell that was separate from
the others. A nearby guard opened the door.

Noah slipped inside. The place was about five
feet by nine feet. The cell contained a toilet. A bed.

A dozen pictures of Claire were on a back,
stone wall. Fucking
recent
pictures judging by Claire’s
hair. One…he leaned forward.
Sonofabitch…
One was of Claire
at her sister’s funeral. He recognized the dress that she wore in
that shot.

Noah spun to confront the warden. “She was
his victim,” he snarled. “He put a gun to her head. He was going to
kill
her.”

Jeremiah backed up a step. “His father—”

“Is going to be rotting in the ground
soon.”

“The governor—”

Noah whirled back around. He ripped those
pictures from the wall. “No more.” Rage had a haze covering his
gaze. “He doesn’t see her. If
any
more pictures find their
way to him, you’ll have more than the governor to worry about.” He
tore the pictures into pieces. Marched toward the warden. “You’ll
have me. And when it comes to the biggest threat you need to fear,
Warden, it’s not the governor because I can buy and sell him ten
times over.”

The warden glanced nervously around the room.
“He…he’s probably going to get out.” His voice was low, carrying
just to Noah’s ears. “For the funeral. He was right. There won’t be
anything I can do to stop it if the order comes down…”