Chapter 38
Noah.
The door slams in my face, the sound sharp and final, ricocheting through the quiet night like a gunshot. For a moment I just stand there, outside her porch, staring at the door while my brain tries to catch up with what just happened.
My chest heaves, and my breath clouds in the cool air as things finally click. She actually shut me out. Sierra. Quiet, docile Sierra slammed her fucking door on my face. (2)
A disbelieving, humorless laugh scrapes out of me. Then the fury hits, burning through my veins like fire. My fist slams into the wall beside her door. The impact does nothing to contain the rage burning in my blood. Pain shoots through my arm but it doesn’t compare to the way my pride feels cracked wide open.
I wait, almost expecting her to open again, to realize her mistake and apologize, but the door remains closed. I hear nothing. No footsteps. No voice. Absolutely nothing.
What the hell is going on? She used to do anything and everything I said. If I said jump, she’d ask how high, but now she has the guts to go against me. All it ever took for her to back down was a frown from me, and yet now, even at the onslaught of my anger, she still stands unyielding. Refusing to bow down like she used to.
“Damn it!” he bark, feeling completely helpless.
I take a step back, drag both hands down my face, trying to pull myself together, but the rage refuses to be caged.
By the time I wrench open my car door, I’m shaking with adrenaline. I slam it shut so hard that it rattles the glass. I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles whiten, breathing hard.
Sierra not only resisted me, but she even had the guts to threaten me. Her words play in my head on a loop over and over again. Her eyes burned when she said them, boldly and unflinchingly, as if she were daring me to push her.
It still feels like a fucking dream. Sierra. Timid Sierra had looked me dead in the eye and defied me. I’d seen the steel in her gaze and felt the fury in her voice, and it unsettled me more than I care to admit.
I wasn’t dealing with the girl I used to know. I was now dealing with a woman that seemed completely different from the pathetic girl that used to follow me around like a lost puppy.
I picture her as she used to be–timid, soft–spoken, her laughter easy when I made a joke about her, her eyes bright whenever I gave her a scrap of attention. She’d always been easy to bend, always eager to please. That girl would never have stood against him.
Maybe it’s because we haven’t seen each other in six years. After all, six years is a long time for someone to remain the same. 2
Fact is this version of her had steel in her backbone and wasn’t afraid to go up against me… and that scared me because it meant she’d fight to the end just to keep this bay.
I turn on the engine and it roars to life, headlights cutting through the dark street as I peel away from the curb.
The road blurs. I don’t see the lights, the houses, or the shadows slipping past. I only see her face. Not the girl I used to know. Not the girl who followed me around with soft eyes, who hung on every word, who practically worshipped the ground I walked on.
Tonight, I saw someone else entirely. Someone fierce. Someone unyielding. She hadn’t just stood against me; she had pushed back and thrown my own threats in my face without flinching.
And God help me, because I didn’t know how to deal with this version of her.
I thought it would be easy to deal with her. Just like it had always been, but I’m now realizing that maybe I had underestimated her.
I shake my head violently, pressing harder on the gas, my grip tightening on the wheel until the leather creaks.
I know what is happening. I can see it from miles away. Because she’s carrying my child, she thinks that gives her power over me. Thinks she can chain me to her with it.
I grit my teeth, jaw aching. “She’s wrong. Dead wrong p>
Still… a strange tightness lingers in my chest, one I can’t shake. For the first time, Sierra didn’t look at him with awe or admiration. She didn’t look at me with respect, with fear or with reverence. No. Tonight she looked at me like I was nothing. Like my very presence disgusted her. Like she couldn’t believe she ever wasted her time on someone like me.
My grip tightens painfully. A memory shoves its way into my head. My father’s hand on my shoulder years ago, his voice steady as he told me, “Control is earned, son. Not demanded.” I used to respect those words. Tonight, they feel like chains.
I curse under my breath, shaking the memory off. I don’t need his lessons when I’m dealing with Sierra. I don’t need something else. Something more effective than wisdom. Sierra doesn’t understand what she’s doing. She doesn’t see how dangerous this is for her, for me, for everything I’ve built.
The headlights carve through the darkness as I pull into my driveway, my mind still circling on how to deal with her.
I sit there for a long moment with the engine idling, fingers drumming against the steering wheel, adrenaline still pumping through my veins.
Finally, I cut the engine.
Leaning forward, I rest my forehead against the wheel, just for a little while before I finally get out of the car.
I drag my feet towards the house where Chloe’s memories are still alive.
Sierra is right about one thing, though; I’m operating out of guilt. Out of the sense that I betrayed the woman I love. She’ll never understand that. How can she when she is incapable of love? When she loves no one but herself?
“Have you dealt with her?” Brook’s voice pulls me from my thought and scares the crap out of me in the process.
I didn’t even realize that I was already in the house or that I’d been standing by the entrance.
I school my features, masking my anger and bitterness.
“Not yet,” I answer her. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to deal with it p>
A look passes through her eyes, but it quickly disappears before I can interpret it.
She nods her head before leaving, heading back to her room.
I watch her back retreat and make a promise. Sierra is going to regret crossing me.
If she won’t willingly get rid of the baby, there are many ways to make sure she loses that pregnancy. 2
Determination sets in my bones, but even as I silently make that promise, the words taste bitter and hollow because underneath the anger, beneath the fury that won’t let me breathe, something else gnaws at me. A thought I can’t silence no matter how hard I try.
What if I’m the one already losing? What if I’m the one that ends up regretting?