29. WYNTER

29

WYNTER

N oah has done nothing but work since his father died.

He’s spent hours in his office or at the company building, filling his father’s shoes.

The cops have come asking questions a few times and even dragged him to the station once, but nothing points to our involvement. All they see is a grieving man. He plays the part well for them, whereas at home he's closed off and distant.

We found out that Dmitri had booked out an entire floor of the hotel to pimp out his girls during the fundraiser. That was enough to get most of the men there arrested.

Noah told the cops that he overheard his father arguing with Dmitri, planting the seeds in their heads that Gregory and Dmitri had it out for each other. They did a sweep of the company building, ransacking Gregory’s office and apartment. Kai wiped the files that Noah told him to, but there was some paperwork locked away in Gregory’s home safe. The cops found it and used it as their main evidence for the dispute. With that and some hush money from Noah, the cops eventually dropped the case.

I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the power he has. We’ve killed so many men. He and Dean probably have numbers in the hundreds by now. Yet we get to walk away from the carnage like gods.

I find Noah standing in the shower. Not moving a muscle as the water cascades down his back. His long hair clings to his face and his eyes are in some distant world. The cut Dmitri left on his face will leave a deep scar. It runs down through his eyebrow and onto his cheekbone. Luckily it missed his eyeball and Luka told us that his vision is fine.

Stripping off, I step in behind him and place my hands on his shoulders. “I’m here,” I tell him and his muscles relax the tiniest amount. “Turn around. Let me wash you.”

“Little viper, what would I do without you?” he sighs and looks at me with the softest expression that makes my entire body melt.

I don’t bother grabbing a washcloth. I want to be able to feel him on my fingertips. The soap is his signature smell. That spicy heat that I’ve come to crave. It’s the scent that helped drag me out of the darkness, the one that made me cling to him without knowing who my savior really was.

My fingers wander over every inch of him. Tracing every groove of muscle, every bump of scar tissue. He does the same to me, memorizing my body with his fingertips. Only when we’re both starting to wrinkle do we get out.

“Are you ready for today?” I ask as I grab us some towels.

“Is anyone ever ready for a funeral? I suppose the dead are.”

Janine has made most of the preparations herself with a little help from me as Noah has ignored her calls.

Sitting on the edge of the bed I tend to his cut. Drying it properly and applying new dressings. Then I grab our black clothes that are hanging up for today out of the closet. A suit with a matching black shirt for Noah and a button-up blouse and pencil skirt for me.

His movements are mechanical as he dresses, like he’s not all here. He misses a buttonhole on his shirt and I go to help him.

When he looks me in the eye he says, “You’re worried about me. There’s no need to be.”

“Noah, I think we should go away for a while. You need space and time to grieve properly.”

“I’m fine,” he insists. It’s the same thing he says everytime I ask.

"Getting away from this place will help us both come to terms with everything. We can both have time to move on." My chest aches as I say the words I've always feared. "Summer's gone. I have to accept that I'm not getting her back."

Placing his large hands on my shoulders, Noah says, "I'll find us more leads. We'll keep killing and eventually we'll get her back."

I don't tell him that I can't take the heartbreak anymore. All I can do is offer him a smile. Today's not about me and I need to be strong to help him through this.

We finish getting ready in silence. Even the car ride to the cemetery is quiet. For once, Noah doesn’t put his music on and neither of us has much to say.

The church is already full when we arrive. There are a few faces I vaguely recognize from the fundraiser and the office, the rest are strangers to me. They all stare at Noah's bandaged eye and whisper amongst themselves.

Noah doesn’t give anyone time to pay their respects to him as he marches down the aisle with me on his arm. The closed casket waits for us at the end. Noah takes us straight to our seats up front. Janine sits on his other side, the rest of the row left empty.

Some friends of Gregory say a few words along with Daniella and Janine. The entire time Noah stares at the stained glass window above the casket.

As soon as the ceremony is over, Noah takes hold of my hand and leads us away. “Don’t you want to stay for the rest of it? You can say goodbye in private once everyone’s gone.”

“It’s just a body. There’s nothing to say goodbye to.”

Back home Noah surprises me by leaving me at the foot of the stairs. “Where are you going?” I’ve never known him to be so distant.

“I need to check on something. I’ll be back in a bit,” he says abruptly.

“Noah, baby, wait.” He stops in the doorway and I reach for his hand. “I’m here. If you need your space I respect that, but please remember I’m here for you.”

Turning to me he smiles like nothing’s wrong. “Wynter, death is nothing new for me. I came to terms with its existence a long time ago. I’ve actually been thinking about what you said earlier, about getting away for a bit. It’s a good idea. There’s just something I need to do first. Then I’m all yours. I promise.” He winks at me and kisses me on the forehead before heading down the steps with a newfound spring in his step.

Whatever’s gotten into him can’t be good. But if it helps him heal then what harm can it really do?

I go upstairs to change into some jeans and a t-shirt then I head to Noah’s office. My dagger is still on his desk from where I last left it and I slip it snugly inside my calf-length boot.

Since Noah installed the cameras in the house I’ve been checking them now and then. Mostly when I’m alone. Noah assures me that the night I thought someone was here was just a hallucination. My hand’s healing up nicely after the wound reopened and doesn’t hurt that much anymore. But looking at it reminds me of what I felt as I cut into the other person’s hand. In that moment it was all so real.

I suppose it doesn’t matter now. Dmitri’s dead anyway. What’s left of his crew are facing jail time or on the run after their places were raided. There are no more monsters left to be scared of.

Scanning through each feed, I check every room. The house is empty. Noah’s car is still parked out front though. I assumed he left in it, but I suppose he could have taken one of the other cars from the garage.

I’m about to shut it down when an alert pops up in the top corner of the screen. Alarm engaged.

Clicking it takes me to an entirely different set of cameras. A live feed from someone's home. It looks well lived in and has a cosy rustic vibe, but I don’t recognize the interior of the place at all.

I spot Noah on the camera that’s pointed toward the front door of the building. It’s a familiar sight, but from where? And why is the footage being sent here?

Scanning over the other feeds again my stomach drops when I see the reason why.

Summer walks into view in a lounge room. My heart lodges itself high in my throat as I try to figure out what I’m watching. I enlarge the image as she sits on a couch and a second later someone else sits down next to her.

Charlie.

What the fuck?

I don't understand what the hell I'm seeing. How long has Noah known that Charlie has Summer?

They turn the television on and Summer picks up a game controller. She looks relaxed and happy. I’m not sure what Charlie’s expression says. She has a tight-lipped smile, but she doesn’t exactly look scared. If anything she seems resigned. Her eyes keep darting to the door every minute or so.

I keep watching them, feeling like I’m having an out-of-body experience. Like I’ve actually died and I’m in the room observing them from the afterlife.

Noah knows where they are. But how long has he known and why hasn’t he told me?