Текст книги "Beautiful Storm"
Автор книги: Megan Isaacs
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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
“No. You clearly said I can’t buy all this stuff because of the cost. It’s not an issue. So what’s the problem?”
“Noah, please.”
“Lizzie, I want to buy it. Please, just let me do this. I want him to have the best. In fact, when we leave here we’re going to that baby shop up on the main road. I think it’s called Mamas, and something? Cait got all her baby shit from there. We’re buying a new bed and wardrobe and anything else Kai needs. Because I want to. I’ve done fuck all for him in his life, please let me have this.”
“You swore again.” I know it’s awful I’m only pointing out the negative in all he’s said, but it’s an instinctive reaction.
“Well stop making me fucking beg then.”
“Noah!”
He raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll try harder. But I’m going to buy my son whatever the fu—hell I want.”
Kai sits in the trolley I’m pushing, oblivious to the argument his parents are having, sucking on his dummy. He’s surrounded by cans of blue and cream paint, floor wax, paintbrushes, and new light fittings. But those aren’t the only things Noah plans to buy. He’s filled a flatbed trolley with oak skirting boards, architrave mouldings, and planks of oak flooring.
“But we don’t need all this stuff. The room’s lovely as it is, it doesn’t even really need painting.” I’m being totally unreasonable, but I’m overwhelmed by the lengths Noah’s willing to go to for Kai.
“I. Don’t. Care.”
His words come out through gritted teeth and I know he’s trying to control his temper. I don’t know why I’m arguing the point so much, other than it’s hard to let go of the fact these things have always been up to me and I don’t want to feel like I owe him. It’s terrible to think that. And really, it is a lovely idea. But still, I argue.
“You know he doesn’t need all these things, Noah. He’ll love you for you. Not what you can buy him.”
“He doesn’t even really know who I am yet.” The tic in his jaw is visible as his fingers grasp the handle and he pushes himself back into an upright position.
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. He knows exactly who you are.” I bend over the trolley and run my fingers down the soft skin of Kai’s face, giving him a huge smile. “Where’s Daddy, poppet?”
Noah isn’t in Kai’s line of sight so he grabs the side of the trolley and pulls himself to his feet. His little brown eyes scan the area in front of him before he looks back to me and then turns in Noah’s direction. A beaming smile engulfs his face as he finds him.
“Da-dad is dare.” He points with a pudgy finger at the frustrating man who owns my heart.
“That’s right, Daddy is there,” I reassure Kai, then give him a kiss on his forehead and help him to sit again. I turn my glare back to Noah, “See. He knows exactly who you are.” Maybe now would be a good time to tell him that Kai has Noah’s photograph and we’ve talked to the picture most days.
His displeasure has dissipated and his taut face has relaxed. “I’m still buying everything.”
A laugh bursts out of me. Really, the whole argument’s ridiculous, but it’s comforting in its normality. Couples have stupid arguments about these sorts of things all the time. We are bound to have a few as we find our feet.
“Okay, have it your way. I know this means a lot to you.”
“Yeah, it does.”
Noah abandons his trolley, walks up, and lifts Kai out of mine. He always finds a way to interact with him. He holds his hand, hugs him, and generally just likes being near him. Almost like he doesn’t believe he’s real.
“Do you want to help Daddy choose a hammer?”
“Yeash, Da-dad. Et’s go ‘oose a ‘ammer. ‘An I ‘ave one?”
“You want a hammer?” Noah shakes his head in disbelief. “Do you know what a hammer is, buster?”
His soft gaze flicks to mine and I see the final fragment of acceptance in them. It’s the first time I’ve heard Noah call himself ‘Daddy.’ It sounds so sexy on him, and my heart flutters.
“Yeash, it makes big bands.”
“Do you mean bangs?”
The stubborn streak in Kai rears its head and he glares at Noah like he’s got two heads. “Yeash, bands.”
They go off hand in hand down the aisle, bickering about bands versus bangs, and leave me to wonder what I’ve let myself in for.
I now have two of them.
The few people that have been watching us start to disperse. Right down the other end of the aisle I catch sight of a man who must have been viewing the show. Something about him is eerily familiar, yet I can’t place it. He turns and pushes his trolley away. I shake my head as a pang of fear runs though me. Although he has the stature of Mac, he can’t be him. Mac’s gone.
I don’t need to worry now. I’m where I should be. Safe in the arms of the man who has always loved me.
I’M KNACKERED, BUT I’ve been unable to sleep in. Who knew decorating a room with a two-year-old in tow would make me so tired? I bought him his own small plastic mallet to bang shit with, much to Lizzie’s annoyance. He used it to bang the walls, making more dents than I was trying to fill in the first place. But his little face lit up and I just laughed at him, which made him worse. I can’t believe how fucking lucky I am.
“Noah, what do you want for breakfast?” Lizzie’s sleep-clogged voice tugs at me and I have no choice but to look.
I scan across the kitchen and find her; she’s the other reason I can’t believe my luck. She stands in the doorway, with bare feet and legs, in one of my T-shirts, and just-fucked hair. Lizzie at her most beautiful. My dick jerks at the sight of her even though it hasn’t been long since I was last buried deep inside her. I’ll never get enough, never get tired of the sight of her, and definitely never have enough of that sweet pussy.
I put down my coffee and stalk over to her. Fisting my fingers into the front of the T-shirt, I pull her against me. Her breath catches and a sleepy smile tugs on her lips.
“What are my options?” As I whisper against her ear, her body vibrates against mine. I love the way she reacts to me.
“Bacon sandwiches or…” She trails off when I work my hands under the hem of the T-shirt to find her very-naked arse. A gasp leaves her lips as I rub against her.
“Fuck, Lizzie. You aren’t wearing anything under here,” I growl in her ear, and let my fingers trail over the skin. The twitch in my jeans turns into a raging hard-on and I can’t think straight. She does this to me, takes away my ability to want or see anything but her.
“I’ve just woken up,” she says, like it’s justification for being naked.
Moving my lips to find hers, I reach the fingers of one hand and work my way around her thigh to find my favourite place on earth. When she adjusts her stance to allow me access, wet, swollen lips greet my fingers. Her body tenses as I tease her clit and then sink a finger deep into her. She shudders, but the grip I have on her won’t let her move against me. With slow, deliberate thrusts, I glide in another finger and work her to the brink, grazing my thumb in circles over her clit. Her sharp nails dig into my naked shoulders as her breaths become shallower.
My lips leave hers and I find the sensitive skin on her neck as I murmur, “Do you want me to fuck you, angel?”
Before she can answer, a little voice shouts, “Mummy, where are ooo?”
Talk about being caught with your hand in the fucking cookie jar.
“In here, Kai.” Flustered, she struggles to gain control of her breath and squeezes the words out.
I reluctantly remove my hands from her and step away. Her stormy eyes never leave my face as I suck on the fingers coated in her.
When the sound of Kai barrelling down the hallway gets closer, I shove my hands in my pockets to cover my erection.
“Thanks for the starter. I’ll have my main course later.” I wink at her. “But bacon sandwiches would be great for breakfast.” As Kai enters, I kiss him on the head and walk out of the room.
I need a fucking arctic shower.
The smell of bacon beckons me to the kitchen after leaving the bathroom. I find Kai strapped into his booster seat eating a nearly empty bowl of dried cereal. Lizzie is finishing off preparing the sandwiches. Unable to resist, I give her arse a firm squeeze as I look over her shoulder.
She smiles back at me, “Red or brown sauce?”
“Red, please. What’s he eating?”
She passes me my plate of food. “I can’t get him to eat cereal with milk on it. He likes it dry and then I give him a beaker of milk, which makes up for it.”
I sit down at the table and watch in awe as he shovels large handfuls of the food into his little mouth.
Shaking my head, I turn my attention to Lizzie. “I’ve got to go and check in at work. Spud’s going to kill me if I don’t turn up soon. Do you have any plans for the day, or are you just hanging out here?” I take a huge bite of the sandwich as Lizzie sits down.
“Boo’s agreed to have Kai so I could do some shopping and a little job hunting. I thought you might be going into work, but if you didn’t, I would’ve just cancelled.”
“You don’t need to work. I can look after the both of you.” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop myself.
“I need a job for my own sanity. Plus, when did you turn into Midas?”
Every single muscle in my body tenses and I struggle to choke down the sandwich I’m chewing. “The workshop does okay,” I state, without meeting her eyes. It does, I’m not lying. I could easily live off the profits.
Is an omission of truth still a lie?
“I know it does.” I feel her gaze scan me.
The gnawing feeling in my gut grows stronger. I’ve never outright lied to Lizzie, ever. It’s a slippery slope to disaster. The truth may hurt, but a relationship built on lies is doomed to failure. The fact I still haven’t told her about my past is eating away at me. But I’m not the bad bloke here. I protected the innocent at all costs, yet I don’t know if she’ll see it that way. What I’m capable of doing might very well scare the shit out of her.
The selfish side of me doesn’t want her to know, and it’s been winning out. I can’t lose her. She’s part of me. Without her I’m just skin and bones with no fucking soul. The logical side, the side which knows right from wrong, good from bad, knows I have no choice but to tell her.
I put the sandwich down, bitter bile rises in my throat, and I can’t take another bite. My insides churn and it feels like I’m swallowing battery acid. It’s now or never.
Clearing my throat, I tentatively approach. “Lizzie, I need to talk to you about something.” I finally blurt out the words, regretting them instantly. She was so happy a while ago. Fucking hell.
“Okay.” She extends the vowels, wary of what I need to say. She has every right to be.
“Perhaps it would be best to put Kai in his room. He doesn’t need to hear this.” I swipe my hand across my now perspiring forehead.
Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, but she nods and takes Kai up to the temporary room he’s sleeping in while I decorate his actual bedroom.
I pace around the kitchen stopping to shake my arms and legs and fidgeting from one spot to another, trying to rid the tension while waiting for her. Fierce pounding racks my chest and a sinking feeling makes itself at home in my stomach, as I struggle to breathe. With each laboured draw of air I suck in, I try to find the strength to destroy my own happiness. My decision is final. No more fucking secrets.
When she returns, the panic on her face is unmistakable. My skin’s heated and the apprehension written all over her face reflects my own. There’s a deeper reason why none of the lads talk about these jobs. People are quick to judge, never stopping to try and understand our side of the story.
Yet even now, I know she still thinks there’s some other woman about to be revealed. How she could ever think I’d love anybody but her, I have no fucking idea. I’ve given her everything I have. And that’s the whole problem. I love her too much. If I didn’t, I could keep up the pretence that I’m a normal man who’s lived a normal life. The harsh reality is I don’t deserve this life. I never have. Good or bad, Kai deserves a daddy with no blood on his hands. They deserve to be safe. And safe isn’t with me without her knowing the truth. I’ve been selfish, and that ends now.
My history will not undermine my future.
“Sit down.” I point to one of the big chairs where we had our last serious talk. I grip the back of the other till my knuckles turn white. For the first time I realise how hard it must have been for her to tell me the truth. I’d rather be back where I had my face cut than be here now.
Lizzie sits down as instructed and almost immediately she begins fiddling the hem of the T-shirt. Restless, and not having the slightest clue where to start, I begin moving again.
This shouldn’t be so hard. This should free me. If she knows, I don’t have to hide anymore. But telling her could ruin everything. Destroy it all. I want to scream. How the fuck did I get myself into this? I need air, space. Fuck. I only need her.
“Noah, it can’t be that bad. It’s not like you killed someone, is it?” She’s trying to soothe me with words, but her choice in them makes mine a lot more fucking difficult. Why couldn’t she have mentioned me fucking other women again? That I could handle.
She has a right to know.
I stop pacing and turn, my gaze pinning hers. “Isn’t it?”
Her gaze shifts in restless movements over my features, as she studies me with worry, looking for the truth. I open up my soul and bare it to her. All its darkness and depravity on display.
“What are you trying to say, Noah?” Her brows knit again and her chest begins to rise and fall in rapid succession. I’m about to corrupt her whole world and she doesn’t even see it.
I’ve always been drawn by her innocence; she’s the light in my dark world. Now I wish she were anything but. I fear her naiveté won’t let her understand. She’s been through some rough shit, but nothing will prepare her for this.
“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” Frustrated, I run my hand through my hair, hoping it will buy me more time, but knowing it won’t. My fate is sealed. Once I tell her the cold truth there will be no going back. I hesitate, unsure if to continue with the truth or just lie. The lie seems much easier, the thought of losing her, and Kai, prevents my lips from forming words. But she deserves this. I owe her that much.
I slap both my palms against the wall and drop my head, trying to find the courage to admit what I really am. I’m a good man though; surely she knows that. Even so, I know there’s only way this will end. Badly.
“You served in the Army, I suppose I never—”
“I was a mercenary, Lizzie.” I can’t let her continue and there’s no way to sugar-coat the facts. It may have been under instruction from our country but it doesn’t change a fucking thing. Sliding my hands down the wall, I twist to face her. “A hit man.”
Her face cracks, her breath shuddering, and she begins to laugh. “You’re joking, right?” She gives me a once-over.
When my face doesn’t change, hers sobers, and her forehead creases. “But what about… what about the workshop?” She’s trying to rationalise, make the reality better, or change it.
“It’s my passion.” I clench and release my fists, trying to keep my voice level. “Working on cars is something I love to do. But I went on missions long before I opened Ignition. How do you think I got the money to start that place? From my parents? You should know by now, I do things my way. I don’t ask for hand-outs.”
Blood drains from her face and a sick paleness appears as her hand flies over her mouth, the realisation setting in. “Oh my god. You killed innocent people?”
“No, I fucking didn’t!” I spit out, but it changes nothing. I’m trying to reason with her, but my words fall on deaf ears. She’s looking at me like she doesn’t know who I am, she doesn’t recognise me, and it rips through me like a jagged knife tearing at my soul.
She looks… afraid.
Fuck.
A crippling ache starts to radiate from my chest. Any glimmer of hope perishes, blowing away like a pile of dust. With each painful breath, the sense of loss increases. I’m losing her. I knew I would but the reality hurts more than I could ever have imagined. It was unbearable the first time, but knowing this is all on me, that I caused this and there’s nothing I can do to stop the wreck from happening right in front of me, that’s an agony that can’t be described by words.
“That part of my life is over and has been a long time. I’m still me.” I beg her with my eyes to see I’m still me. I still have the same heart that’s currently shattering in front of her eyes.
“You’re a murderer.” The whisper-yell carves through me, as she delivers the punishing blow. I was never a murderer. I was a soldier who did my fucking job.
But she’s made her decision, decided our fate, and there’s nothing I can do but hope she remembers me, who I am with her. Hope it outweighs the bad she sees now.
It won’t make a difference if I tell her none of the people I killed were innocent. She still won’t understand, and it won’t change a fucking thing. I’ve still done some sickening shit, no matter how justified, and she’ll still think I’m a cold-blooded killer. The twisted thing is… I knew that’s how she’d see me, yet I gave her the match to light me on fire.
I see her close off and shut down; she’s gone. She’s sitting within feet of me and she may as well be on the other side of the world because she’s already left. I don’t know what to do. I can’t react how I want to; it’ll scare her half to death and she’s already afraid. The pressure is building in my veins and I don’t know how much longer I can hold it in.
“I’m just me, angel,” I say, as soft as my turmoil will allow.
She shakes her head and she’s trembling. “No, no, you’re not who I thought you were.” Her eyes have a cyclone swirling in their depths as she gets to her feet.
I try reaching for her, but she yanks away, almost toppling backwards in her haste. Instinctively, I catch her, and she stiffens in my arms. The reaction hurts more than having my fingernails pulled out one by one. I just want her to love me, for me, for everything I am. Is that too much to ask?
She turns her face away from me, breathing quickly, almost panting. I begin to wonder if I scare or disgust her.
“I’m just the same. I’m still the fucking same.” Panic floods my senses. I don’t know how many more times I can use the same words. She sure as hell isn’t listening. I retract, shoving my hands into my jeans to stop me from touching her. I just want to wrap her in my arms and tell her everything will be okay, but the way she’s recoiling makes my fists tighten in my pockets.
“How can you be?” She says it with such conviction it makes me flinch. “I can’t do this, I can’t listen to you. How could you do that?” At her words, I feel the crack in my chest, my barely beating heart being flayed where it sits. She thinks I’m a monster.
“Don’t punish me for being honest. If you’d never known, if I had never told you, would you have seen it in me? Would you have known the man who loves you down to his bones was a killer? Could you tell from my touch? Would you have felt it on my lips when I claimed yours? When I moved inside you, making love to you, would you have known then?” My whole body burns for her, but she’s like ice.
“Don’t do this to me, it’s not fair,” she whispers.
“Would you?” I insist. I can’t help myself. I know I should be reining my temper in, not letting it get the better of me, but I can’t stand the stillness taking over her eyes. It’s destroying me.
“No!” she screams at me, fists clenched at her sides.
“Then what’s fucking changed?” I can feel the heat blazing in my eyes burning into hers. Willing the fire in her eyes to reignite, not ebb away into nothing but blackened embers.
“Jesus Christ, Noah. Everything. How would you feel if you discovered I murdered someone for fun? Would it matter if my touch could drive you to the edge? Would it matter that when I kissed you it felt like I was starving for you, and only your taste could ease my hunger? It wouldn’t matter, Noah, because you would never get over the fact. Regardless. What’s the difference?”
Seriously, she’s going there? “Fuck understanding the bigger picture. I guess second chances only apply to you, right?”
Pain etches her face. Shit.
Defeat washes through my body and my whole demeanour shifts. My body sags and my legs struggle to hold me up. I’ve lost like I knew I would. I step in close to her, needing to memorise her scent, feel her warmth. She raises her face to me, her dead eyes meeting mine in defiance. I slowly lift my hand to cup her face and feel her flinch at my touch, flaying another layer of my heart away.
“For the record, you two are my life.” My gruff voice trembles and tears brim in my eyes. I’ve never been in so much pain. “My heart belongs to you. My soul is entwined with yours. I’ll protect you until my last breath whether you want me to or not, and I’ll love you for a fucking eternity.”
I take one last searching gaze into her eyes, hunting for something to hold on to, some tiny fragment of hope. But the grey depths have stilled, flatlined, and there is nothing left for me to find. She doesn’t want me and I’m not going to push her to reason. Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, a tear escapes my eyes. I release her and walk away. Her breath catches and she muffles a choked sob. And for the second time, I leave my heart with her. She doesn’t want it, but it’s hers just the same.
Acid tears track down my cheeks, burning and disfiguring my already scarred face. My abdominals burn with the words I can’t remove. I was stupid to even consider she might see past my revelation. My angel sees me as Lucifer.
I race upstairs and grab a few clothes, ramming them into my backpack. Angry for letting myself love her, love them.
A different pain grips my chest as I look in on our son. He plays happily with his cars on the floor of the bedroom. When he spots me, he gets to his feet and comes to the stair gate blocking his exit.
“Da-dad, c-ars?”
I swipe away the tears, not wanting to upset him.
“Not now, buddy.” I’m so proud he said ‘cars.’ Another part of my heart breaks as I lift him into my arms and pin him against me, soaking in every last memory I can, unsure if I’ll ever see him again. If she refuses to see me as anything more than a monster then she won’t let me within a foot of my son.
My chest heaves as I place him back in the room and crouch at the gate. “Daddy has to go away for a little while. Can you do me a big favour?”
“Yeash, Da-dad.” I have no idea if he understands me or not.
“I need you to look after Mummy for me, can you do that?” His little head nods in response.
Bending over the stair gate, I place my lips to his head.
“I love you, little man.” With burning eyes, I turn, grab the backpack, and race down the stairs before I can’t leave. Before I think about what I’m doing.
Her stabbing sobs torture my eardrums as I pass the kitchen. Placing my house keys in the dish on the hallway table, I say, “The house is yours, angel.”
I don’t know if she heard me, or if she even wants it, but at least I can give them that. I check my pockets for my bike key, grab my helmet and wallet, then force myself out the front door.
