Shattered Bonds: Book Seven of Wicked Play (23 page)

There was no going back to the tempered comfort they’d both found in each other, in what they’d had together. For that she wanted to scream. Or cry.

Instead she sucked in a breath and headed up to shower. His computer keys drummed out his location when she passed by his office. The tapping paused for a second before the consistent pang of the spacebar continued. She hurried up the stairs when there were so many things she wanted to say and didn’t know how.

Sorry for pushing.
Sorry for your pain.
Sorry that Beth did such a horrible thing to you.
Sorry...wouldn’t cut it. Everything he’d revealed needed to come out in order for him to heal. Only there was no magic answer for how long the healing would take, if ever.

She adjusted the water to just under scorching and tried to scrub away the ugliness that last night had left on her. She couldn’t let it show, not her sorrow or pain or any of the doubts that threatened to tumble out.

The motions of getting dressed were done on autopilot. Hair, teeth, makeup were completed while her mind replayed every detail of the previous night, both wishing for a do-over and knowing there was no going back.

She hastily tossed her stuff into her bags, only to discover she’d accumulated more things at his house than would fit in the two duffel bags she had. When had that happened?

Leaving it, she hurried back downstairs, gathered her resolve and stuck her head into Noah’s office. “I’m done. The bathroom is yours.”

He looked up and stared at her until she was ready to back out and run from the house. How had things gotten so broken between them while they’d slept? Should she push again? Ask more questions? Simply be there, or leave altogether?

“Thank you,” he finally said. So formal. It was worse than before the accident. He was back to the polite courtesies that weren’t wrong, but were far from right.

She hesitated again, wanting to say more, only to choke on everything that came to mind. “I’ll pack up some food and stuff then.”

He didn’t object when she fled to the kitchen. She couldn’t stop her awareness of his leaving the office and heading up the stairs. The ceiling creaked overhead to mark his movements before the rush of the water flooded the pipes when he turned on the shower.

Her hands shook and she fumbled with the dirty containers from last night when she unpacked them from the bag. It kept her busy. Rinsing them out, loading the dishwasher, sorting out more snacks for the potentially long wait ahead of everyone. It was how she functioned.

One task at a time. One duty to fulfill. One more person to help.

She was glad she’d been there for Noah last night and there was a spark of happiness that warmed her when she thought of the trust he’d given her to confide so much. However, both were countered by the wretched understanding that no matter how much he’d needed to get it out, his confession also spelled the end of the fragile thing they’d been building.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“He’s awake.”

Those words had everyone in their corner of the waiting room sighing at once before a bombardment of questions flew at Noah.

“Does he recognize them?” Cali asked.

“Is he talking?” That came from Eleanor.

“Is he—”

“He’s doing fine.” Noah raised his voice to cut off Carter. A soft smile broke through on Noah’s face, and it eased more of the tension that had collected in Liv during the wait. The doctors had taken Tyler off the drugs around noon, and that’d been four long hours ago. “Tyler is responding to questions. He’s still heavily sedated and has a long way to go, but he’s concerned over Allie’s arm, shocked at Seth’s new haircut and mad that the bed isn’t bigger so they could fit in it with him.”

There was a round of laughter at that. Those were all excellent signs and another big hurdle that marked another step forward.

Noah shoved his hands in his pockets and blew out a breath. “Eleanor, Thomas. The doctors asked me to send you back.” The instant flash of fear on Eleanor’s face was unmistakable and a quick reminder that they weren’t done yet. “He wants to talk to you about a few things. I don’t know what,” he rushed on when Thomas opened his mouth. “But I didn’t get the impression it was bad.”

“Thank you,” Thomas said, rising.

“Dad?” Kendra’s sister rose, the question open on her face. She’d arrived from Chicago early that morning to sit with her parents.

He rubbed her back. “Come on.”

The trio left the room, and Liv started packing up before aborting her tasks to help Cali. “Here,” she said, rushing over. “Let me get your bag.”

“I fucking hate this,” Jake muttered. His complaint wasn’t strong though. More annoyed than angry. He’d refused to go home after being released. He was clearly uncomfortable and in pain in the wheelchair but stubbornly denied it every time someone asked.

“What part?” Marcus asked. He and Quinn had insisted on being there now that the media had backed off. Quinn had donned a disguise that had fooled everyone. She looked entirely different with a red wig and clothes better suited for the teenage grunge crowd. “The broken leg, the wheelchair or the weakness?”

Jake glared at him. “It all sucks.”

Marcus winked. “Just wanted to clarify that.”

“Ass.”

“Dick.”

“You’re both fucktards,” Rock cut in.

“Says the cocksucker.” Marcus’s grin alleviated what could’ve been an insult.

“Guys,” Cali admonished without heat, glancing at the rest of the room. It was hard to be mad when the byplay felt so normal.

“Oh.” Liv spun around to Noah. “Did you text V yet?” He shook his head, and she pulled out her phone to take care of it. V and Holden were on the road again, but Liv had been keeping them updated.

“We’ll walk down with you guys,” Quinn said, holding out her hand for Cali’s bag, which Liv handed over. “I need to get back to Blake.”

The next minutes were consumed with hugs, promises of updates and the general corralling of Jake’s entourage out of the room, him sputtering the whole way. It left Liv with a smile on her face and a sense that, just maybe, things would eventually be all right.

Rock glanced at his watch. “I need to get to the club.” He looked to Noah. “What time are you planning on getting there?”

“Nine or ten.” Noah had his stone impression in place, so it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. After what he’d revealed last night, she was amazed he could still be around that lifestyle at all. It also raised the question of why he still was. Was it another form of self-punishment?

“Have you looked through the stuff I gave you?” Rock asked.

“We’ll talk tonight.”

“Marcus said he’d be in for a bit, too.”

Carter gave Liv a quick hug then those two left as well. With just her and Noah remaining, the awkward silence that had been with them all morning returned. She busied herself picking up and organizing her bag to go herself. It was all a ruse really, as most of her focus was on the man standing silently at her back. His appraisal tingled over every awareness she had. Her skin hummed with the knowledge and she tried to contain her reaction to him when it was almost impossible.

When there was nothing left to pack, Liv took a deep breath and turned to him. “Are you heading to your office or hanging out here?”

His expression didn’t change, so maybe it was her own guilt at avoiding him that had her imagining his disappointment. “Liv?”

She hung her head. He had the amazing ability to imply and say so much with her name. What she heard was
You’re avoiding me.
Something’s wrong.
It’s about last night
,
right?
He wasn’t wrong on any of it, either.

Without looking up, she stepped up to him and simply wrapped her arms around his waist to hold him close. The morning spent with him analyzing her every action and her second-guessing everything she said or did had put a spotlight on all the reasons their relationship wouldn’t work.

Not now. Not yet.

He didn’t reject her hug though, and a fall of relief and sharp-edged sadness trembled through her when his arms came around to hold her close.

“You’re leaving.”

Without her saying a word, he knew, and it killed her. His cheek was pressed to her hair, and she sucked in a deep fill of his scent, holding it in until she had to let it go. Like him.

“There’s no justifiable reason for me to stay with you anymore,” she said, too chicken to look at him out of fear of what she’d see or not see.

His chest lifted beneath hers with his deep breath. “You’re right.”

Her stomach swam with the same mix of illogical emotions that had plagued her all day. She wanted him to beg her to stay, yet there was no way she could. “I’m not walking away from you,” she clarified, her words thick. “You understand that, right?”

His simple agreement didn’t come close to expressing what he was feeling or thinking.

He pressed a kiss to her head and squeezed her tighter. “But you’re pulling back. I don’t blame you.”

That was when she understood the monotone of his voice. It was the shield he used to hold his feelings in. He’d started to let that down with her, and now it was back. Could she really go through with this?

But this wasn’t about her.

If she said it enough, she’d remember that. It was what she had to do to help him.

“It’s not about blame.” She buried her nose in his collar and took one last inhale before easing back. His expression showed nothing, the hard placidness so ingrained she doubted he even realized how coldly it came across. But his eyes, those expressive eyes that said more than words, were dark with disagreement. “When you understand that, maybe you can move on.”

“Liv.”

A warning. She gave him a soft smile and tucked her hand beneath his suit jacket so it lay over his heart. Rapid but not racing. She was learning to read him, this man who gave away nothing.

“I care about you. Very much.” Her throat burned with the words she wasn’t saying. “But you’re not ready for me. Us. And I can’t—” she blew out a breath. “I can’t be something you doubt. I might be selfish, but I want all of you and I can’t have that if your heart’s not whole.”

He blinked a few times, staring over her head as his hands fisted against her lower back. His heartbeat increased, its tempo solid against her palm. “I want to fix it,” he whispered. “I just don’t know how.”

She sniffed and fought to hold it together. “I think you’ve started,” she said, proud that her voice was even. “Go from that. I’ll be here to help however I can, but you have to do it.”

He cupped the back of her head, forced her closer, and she spent every second memorizing him. The way he fit against her, the hard lines and firm hold. The rich cologne and subtle cedar scent. His strength and kindness and that hidden vulnerability he kept bundled behind the very power that had held her up through the accident and aftermath. She absorbed it all until he slowly let her go. Feet moving back first, hand drifting down her shoulder and off, the other sliding from her back until his touch was gone.

With a ragged swallow and more determination than she’d ever had to call upon, she memorized the thump of his heart then let her hands fall from him. The loss was tangible, the wrenching of her heart a physical pain in her chest. It didn’t help that she’d been preparing for this all day. If anything, it seemed to make it worse.

He tipped her chin up, a light touch that sent a tremble through her. His eyes shone brightly, sadness so clear and deep she almost chucked her resolve. She bit her lip to hold it in instead.

“I love you,” he whispered. So soft and tender, a breath filled with emotion that she wanted to dive into and keep.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready for me,” she promised, her voice catching on the urge to reciprocate his words. But she couldn’t let them out. Not until he was ready for them.

She quickly grabbed his hand, pressed a kiss to his palm then turned away to swoop up her bag. The tears were impossible to hold back and they flowed down her cheeks when she turned back to him. “I’m not leaving. I’m just walking away for now.”

He gave a slow nod, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so damn sorry.”

“Don’t be, please.” She wanted to touch him again, to wipe away the self-recriminations that hung in his words and posture, but she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to let him go if she did. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I... I’m not abandoning any of you. This is my family now, too. You’re a part of my family.” She offered a faint smile and swiped the wetness from her cheeks. “We’re still here for each other.”

“Keep the car.”

Her head was shaking before her words came out. “I can’t—”

“Damn it, Liv.” His growl was fierce with a determination she recognized. “Use the car. I have to know you’re safe. I can’t—” He clamped a hand over his mouth and stared out the window for several long moments before he let it fall. “Just do it for me, please.”

All her refusals, her stubborn independence that had kept her from accepting Vanessa’s repeated offers were swept aside by the open need in Noah’s expression. “Okay.” Her throat was cut and enflamed with everything she was holding back. “I’ll go pack up my things at your house now.” She swiped away a fresh tear before it could fall, and made a swift exit.

Leaving sucked. Bad, hard and all of those other descriptors that meant her heart was breaking as clearly as Noah’s already was.

But it wasn’t about her... What a lie.

She rubbed away more tears and let the elevator take her away from the one thing she wanted to keep.

* * *

Noah had no idea how long he’d been sitting there when he became aware of someone taking a seat next to him. He stared at the floor though his clasped hands, not seeing either. His elbows dug into his thighs to remind him that he wasn’t made of stone like he wished.

A nudge to his leg had him wobbling with the motion. A bob that confirmed he was still alive. He knew that though. The ache in his chest that seemed to have moved into every fiber of his body said he was very much among the living. He hadn’t died with Beth, even though he’d wished it back then.

“What happened?” Deklan.

The man’s low question was succinct, yet Noah’s real answer would be very far from it. He gave his usual instead. “Nothing. How’s Kendra?”

“Bullshit.”

“Kendra’s bullshit?” Noah asked, deliberately being obtuse. Deklan didn’t respond.

In many ways it felt like the world was revolving around him. People moved, talked, did their jobs, laughed, cried and went about their lives when he’d been surviving in stasis much like Kendra, only walking about instead of lying in a bed.

Until Liv. She’d awakened so many things he’d thought long dead. Now he was losing her, too. Might’ve already lost her.

“It hurts,” he finally said, not sure exactly what he was referring to.

“What happened?”

How did he answer that? Noah scrubbed has face and sat up. His back muscles protested, a twinge making him grimace and stretch before he slumped against the seat. “What hasn’t?”

Deklan’s sharp snort of agreement gave him a bit of comradely understanding. “None of us died,” he finally offered, the hesitation sucking away the offered optimism. Kendra was still an unknown, even though the doctors were hopeful.

Noah studied the other man’s profile. He’d found a razor in the last day or so. His beard was back to a dark shadow, bruises almost gone, replacing the wild look with a quieter acceptance maybe. It wasn’t resignation though.

“They’re going to try and bring Kendra out of the coma tomorrow.” Deklan’s statement was spoken so evenly that anyone who didn’t know him would think he didn’t care. But Noah did know him. The man could be a reflection of himself at times.

“Keeping it quiet?”

“Yeah.”

“All right.”

Noah got that, too. The fewer who knew, the fewer the expectations. The weight he and Kendra’s family carried was at its breaking point already. Adding the burden of everyone’s hope and possibly shattering it was too much. The outcome was something they had to discover and deal with before they could share it.

“Is it Liv?” Deklan looked to him then, searching without invading. He already knew the answer. That was clear.

“Yes.” Evading was pointless. Denial done. “And Beth.”

Deklan nodded, lips compressing in a simple move of understanding. “It’s hard to let go of something like that.”

Noah agreed, although he didn’t know if Deklan was referring to Beth or Liv. They all knew about Beth. The three men had silently supported him when it’d happened by simply being there, giving him work when he’d been ready to throw everything away.

Yeah, Deklan, Jake and Seth were the brothers he’d never had. He would never be a part of their inner circle, their bond going back to childhood. But they’d been there for him when others had ostracized, doubted and accused him without knowledge.

“How do I?” Noah asked, still unsure to which he was referring.

“Do you love her?”

Liv. “Yes.” The admission didn’t hurt like he’d thought. Instead it flooded him with hope. With the dream of what was waiting for him if he could just grab it.