Noah shifts Naima like a rag doll, reaching into his pocket. My breath hitches as he pulls out a switchblade. It’s gleaming chrome handle gleams in the bright hotel lighting, and it’s like my eyes lock on that point. Every ounce of blood running through my veins turns to ice.
I’ve never been scared of a weapon, because usually the people using them are cowards. Weak men who can’t win a fight without them.
But this time, I’m terrified. Because Noah leans down and whispers something in Naima’s ear. She closes her eyes as he presses the knife against the skin I know for a fact is so damn soft, on her neck.
“Get out,” he repeats, his voice deadly soft.
There’s a crazed gleam in his eyes. There’s no way I’m leaving her alone with him, but what can I do?
He’s got a knife pressed against her throat. My blank mind struggles to come up with something I can do to get Naima away from him.
“Hey, hey…okay, Noah. I want you to look down at her right now. See how scared she is? You’re doing that, Noah. That what you want?”
I’m struggling to keep the tremors out of my own voice. I’m sure he can hear the rapid-fire beating of my heart. My gaze is stuck to the sharp, precise weapon, the one that could do so much damage.
Cops.
Where are they? Should have been right behind me, and I texted Counts the room number when I got it. They should be here!
Noah’s teeth grind together. I take another step back, when all I really want to do is rush forward, grab Naima, and hurt him.
I change my tactic. Placing my hands on the back of my neck in obvious frustration, I take another step back and shake my head. Allowing my true emotions to shine through, the pleading in my voice is too real. “I can’t leave her, man. Understand that. I can’t just walk out of here.”
BRRRRRRNG!
The hotel phone rings, and the thick, tense air in the suite swirls around us as we all focus on the insistent noise.
Noah whips back around to stare at me, suspicion mounting in his eyes.
“What’d you do?” he growls.
He keeps flipping back and forth between me and the phone, which continues to ring. The sound jars me, grating on my nerves while I try to concentrate on getting him to let Naima go.
“Don’t know who that is, Noah.”
He clutches Naima and waves the knife at me. His anxiety is only growing, which means so is mine. “You’re lying! You called the cops!”
Naima takes a shuddering breath as his hand slips from her mouth. Her eyes flick toward me. “Noah, no…he wouldn’t. Th last thing Ace wants is the cops involved. We can talk about this…”
The phone keeps screaming.
I lift my voice to be heard over the ringing. “Noah. Whoever it is obviously wants to talk to you, man. Just answer the phone.”
“Fuck!” Noah lets go of Naima for just a second, long enough to run an agitated hand through his short hair. It’s enough that her eyes widen, and for just a second I think it’s the only moment I’ll have to grab her.
But then his hand is right back in place, circling her waist and holding her to him. She sags, desolation apparent in her dark, dark eyes.
The phone doesn’t stop ringing.
“Answer it Noah!” screams Naima.
He yanks her with him toward the phone, and I have to watch as she’s dragged the ten feet to the bedside table. He picks it up, putting it to his ear and listening. His gaze is locked on mine.
“I don’t want anything. Leave me alone.”
Noah slams the phone back down in the cradle, and the silence in the room is oppressive. Heavy.
“Noah…” Naima’s voice bleeds with her fear and worry. “What’s your dad going to think about this? Please let me go…turn yourself in. You come from a powerful family. You’re a promising college senior, and you haven’t done anything you can’t come back from. The men who worked for you did. You can still come out of this okay, Noah.”
The fact that this is true pisses me off. Between the fact that he hasn’t actually killed anyone himself, and his father’s money and prestige, he might get off with a slap on the wrist.
But not where I’m concerned. I’ll never forgive him for this.
Holding my breath, I watch the emotions whirling on his face.
A loud banging pounds the door, and three sets of eyes fly in that direction.
“Police! Exit the suite with your hands up!”
None of us moves. My eyes are on Naima, her eyes are on me, and Noah’s eyes are glued to the hotel room door.
“It’s now or never, Noah.” I keep my voice low. “They’re not going to be patient. Give her to me. Let’s walk out the door.”
But no matter how rational I am at this moment, Naima’s still at his mercy.
Thirty
NAIMA
Even though there’s nothing Ace can do for me right now, his presence in the room has made all the difference. Before Noah pulled the knife, he whispered in my ear that he wouldn’t hurt me, that he needed to do it to get rid of Ace.
I believed him.
But it doesn’t mean I’m not terrified of what will happen if this situation gets any more strained. Tossing a glance toward Ace, I plead with him, using my eyes to get him to understand.
“Ace…you can back up. I’m okay.”
The pounding on the door resumes, the police still yelling out surrendering instructions to Noah.
“There’s no scenario where that happens, baby,” says Ace firmly. “Not leaving you. Never.”
“She’s not your baby!” yells Noah. “God! What the fuck is wrong with you? She doesn’t belong to you, Wells. She’s not even in your league!”
Ace remains silent, his expression wary, his eyes locked on me.
I can’t take this anymore. My muscles are burning from standing so rigid, my eyes are threatening to
