Chapter 18

eighteen

Noah

“What the fuck do you mean she’s catching a train this afternoon?” I snap at Cameron, ignoring his clean-shaven face.

I have a feeling who convinced him to shave the fucking thing off his face, and honestly, it just makes me love her more.

“She was supposed to catch one this morning, but when we took her back to her dad's yesterday, we managed to convince her to let you spend the morning with Diego, so she changed her ticket to a flexi one,” he says with a wince. I glare his way, and he lifts his hands in surrender and says, “To give you a chance to convince her to stay, the plan is for her father to watch Diego.”

I scoff and lean my arm against the fireplace, my eyes going to the picture of us in the music room at Kings Prep. I’m sitting on the table while she’s leaning between my legs, my arms wrapped around her, my chin on her shoulder, both of us smiling.

“She wouldn’t even stick around yesterday, Cam. She was here for half an hour, that’s it. After admitting what Van did, she toured the rest of the house, and left without a word….” Pain laces my voice.

I wanted to explain myself, explain where my head was back then, and where it’s been over the past two years.

I mean, fuck, it's my birthday tomorrow, and our last show before we have a little break to record, and yet all I can think about is the ride we talked about.

The plan was to buy the bike I wanted, the one she bought me, and go for a long ride, me and her, to celebrate my turning twenty-one. It’s why I never wanted a fucking party; I tried to drown myself in my sorrows of what I was missing out on because I’d allowed myself to believe the picture was true—the innocent fucking picture.

Barn stayed yesterday and explained all about the photo and its innocence while Cam took Rose back to her father's, where she, thankfully, did stay the night instead of at the motel.

Not sure how Cameron convinced her to stay longer, but it could be a fucking lost cause. At this rate, I think I’m going to have to move to fucking Fremont to get her to talk to me again.

“She was in shock, Noah. She just needed time. Now, you need to go and open up to her,” he says, and I go to reply to him but sigh instead when someone knocks on my front door.

Shaking my head, I walk past Cam. The security must know who it is, otherwise, they wouldn’t have gotten past the gate.

I open the door, and instantly, anger overrides me, and I fist my hand before punching the fucker in the face.

Al falls with a grunt while Van gasps in shock but I point at her, snapping, “Be fucking grateful you’re a girl.”

Her eyes water and I scoff as Al stands, rubs his jaw, and confirms, “She told you.”

I sneer at him. “Yeah, she fucking did. You stood back and sided with your then-girlfriend over your sweet and kind-hearted sister, allowing her to be hit while fucking pregnant. You didn’t even ask your dad why he kicked her out. You came up with conclusions and turned against her when she lost fucking everything, and then you thought you had the right to ensure she didn’t attend Callum’s fucking funeral.”

He winces and rasps, “I made a mistake, Noah, and believe me, I’m paying for it, fuck, dad’s banned Van from all business property, and he’s banned me from the house when Rose is in town. I lost not only my sister but also a chance to know my nephew, so believe me, I’m paying for my mistakes. I need a chance to explain….”

I shake my head, nothing but anger consuming me, and the urge to punch him again hits me. But before I can, Cameron walks over, stating, “Rafael just called. Rose left the house so you could pick Diego up. She’s gone to Callum’s grave. Apparently, other than checking on the guy in the photo, that’s where she’s been each time you've gone to see Diego. He mentioned that she catches the bus each time.”

Al flinches at his words, and I shake my head at the idiot. Vanessa silently cries beside him, but I ignore her, grab my keys, and barge past them both.

“Noah, I just want to talk to her…” he tries again, following me, and I open the driver's side door and look his way.

He looks like a wreck, but just like me, he made his bed, and now he has to lie in it.

“You were her everything, Al.” His eyes tear up. “You were her protector, and you turned against her. You allowed someone to hit her; you told her she died when your mom did.” He flinches, his tears falling, and I shake my head. “I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive you, just like I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me for leaving and cutting her out.”

With that said, I climb into my Mustang and start her up, before squealing out of my drive and heading toward the cemetery.

It takes me nearly forty minutes to get to Hardgrove Cemetery. I slowly approach the nearest parking space to where Callum is buried, noticing my girl instantly sitting leaning against his headstone, talking away, and my heart hurts for her. She didn’t get to say goodbye because of Al and Vanessa.

Al chose his girlfriend over his sister, the same girlfriend he married without telling Rose.

Yeah, I wasn’t too happy when her father told me last night when I called to say goodnight to Diego.

As quietly as I can, I climb out of my car and round the hood, taking a seat on it, not taking my eyes off the vision before me.

She’s wearing a pair of leggings and ankle boots, but that’s not what gets my attention. It’s the black skull hoodie that drowns her that does it.

It was my favorite hoodie; I had left it in my locker. When I went to grab it, it had vanished, only for me to go into the music room to see this angel wearing it. When I questioned her, she said, “Finder’s keepers,” and when I said I had left it in my locker, she just shrugged and continued with her schoolwork.

She was fourteen.

Fuck, I can’t believe she still has it.

My head is all over the place with everything I’ve learned lately, and guilt fills me like no other. When I saw that photo, instead of remembering who Rose is and her sweet nature, I focused on my pain.

Allowing my sister and Piper to get in my head was the biggest mistake of my life because it might have cost me the woman that I’ve loved since I was fourteen.

I’m not sure how long I've been sitting here, but at some point, Rose must have felt my eyes on her because she looks up, and our gazes connect.

I see her sigh before she says something, then turns her body, her lips touching the headstone.

Fuck me, my girl….

Slowly, she walks down the path toward me, but I don’t move. Instead, I take in her features, my eyes lingering on the hoodie and then on her wrist, where I know the bracelet I gave her sits on top of my name tattooed in her skin.

“Noah…” she starts when she stops before me.

I raise my hand to stop her, and remark, “You never stopped loving me, did you?” Her eyes widen before she swallows but shakes her head. I inquire, “And I’m your only, aren’t I?”

Her eyes tear, and she looks away, confirming it. Everything in me relaxes, knowing I have a chance—a small one, but an opportunity to make things right, to go back to where we should be.

“What do you want, Noah?” she asks, not looking my way. I sigh, resting my elbows on my bent knees, linking my fingers together, and say, “I want you to come to my concert tomorrow.”

She looks my way in shock, her eyes widening before they drop to my hands. I see them linger on her name on my finger before they move to my knuckles, and I narrow my eyes at her nonreaction.

“What happened to your knuckles?” she asks, and I raise a brow, surprised she ignored my finger.

I tilt my head and admit, “I punched your brother.” She looks at me with shock, and I ask, “How long have you known about my tattoo?”

She looks down for a moment before looking back up and admitting, “I saw it almost instantly when you showed me the R tattoo.” I chuckle lightly, looking down until she speaks up again, and our eyes connect, “It was the moment I knew you loved me, like truly loved me. I mean, I know you had said it before that, but they were just words, you know?”

I nod, understanding that action speaks louder than words, and rasp, “I still do love you, Rose. I never stopped; my music is proof of that, don’t you think?”

She winces and looks sheepish, causing me to raise my pierced brow at her. Then she admits, “I haven’t heard your new music, Noah, only ‘Rose’s Thorns’.”

I sigh, dropping my head in my hands and mumbling, “So you haven’t heard ‘Falling Petals’ or ‘Consumption’?” She clears her throat, and I look up, and she gives me a sheepish smile, and I groan. “Fuck’s sake, Rose, my whole album isn’t a heartbreak album like you probably think, yes there’s heartbreak in there because, newsflash, I was fucking heartbroken, still am, but there are several songs dedicated to how much I fucking love you, and wanted you in my arms again. Dammit, the album is called Roses .”

Her mouth opens a little, and I sigh and stand up. Gently, I cup her cheeks, making her look up at me. A few tears fall down her cheeks, and I gently wipe them away with my thumbs, then whisper, “You are all I think about, Rose, and I don’t know if that’s unhealthy, but I also don’t give a fuck.” My eyes peer down into hers. “All I’m asking for is a chance. I need you to come to this concert; I need you to hear the words I’m singing, please. Because then, maybe, just maybe, you might understand better where I was then and where I am now . Please, Petal.”

She squeezes her eyes shut tight, and I gently place my forehead against hers.

“One chance, that’s all I’m asking for, just one chance to prove to you how much I need you, and besides, I can’t think of anything better than having you there for my twenty-first….”