Chapter 49
Noah steps in, his long frame filling the doorway, commanding the space even without trying. Gunner follows right behind him, calm and collected. The total opposite of his friend.
My chest tightens immediately. My stomach twisting not from the fizz in my glass, but from the sight of him. Every instinct screams at me to shrink, to disappear behind Lilly, but I refuse. Not tonight. Not now.
Part of me wants to run and hide somewhere safe, anywhere but here. But another part–stubborn and furious- wants to meet him head–on, to make him understand that I’m not his to command. That I’m not a frightened girl from the past he thinks he can control.
Noah’s eyes scan the room, sharp and calculating, and then they lock on me. That familiar, infuriating look–like he’s measuring me and, like always, finds me lacking.
My pulse spikes, heat pooling in my cheeks. No matter how often I face that look, I never get used to it. Maybe it’s the people–pleaser in me. The part that seeks validation from him, but it still hurts. Even now, I force myself to remain cool and force that need to seek his approval down. Bad habits die hard, I guess. 2
I thought he’d ignore me, us, but with a few strides, he’s right at our table.
“What are you doing at a bar when you’re pregnant?” His voice cuts through the background noise like a knife, dripping with accusation.
I don’t flinch. I set my glass down, straighten in my chair, and stare him dead in the eye. “What are you doing in a bar when you should be at home taking care of your kids?” My tone is razor–sharp.
Each word lands heavy and deliberate. He blinks once, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. Good. Let him taste a little of what I’ve been swallowing all these weeks.
Noah’s jaw tightens, lips pressing into a hard line. “Answer my question, Sierra,” he hisses, voice low and dangerous.
“I didn’t know it’s now a crime to come to a bar,” I mutter flatly. “What are you? Pregnant women police p>
His jaw ticks, and his eyes burn. His fists are clenched by his side and I know he’s doing everything he can to contain his fury.
He eyes the glass in my hand. “You shouldn’t be drinking p>
My eyes widen just a fraction before I contain my surprise. I don’t know what games he’s playing, but I want no part of it.
“As if you care, Noah,” I scoff. “You want no part in my baby’s life, so why should it bother you whether I drink myself stupid p>
“This shows I’m right,” he growls. “You’re not responsible enough to take care of a baby if you’re out here drinking weeks after finding out you’re pregnant p>
What a confusing man. What the hell did he care? Or is this a way to tear me down? To try and twist things so it seem iI’m unfit to be a mother?
I feel my muscles tense, ready to snap back. I can’t stand his condescending tone or his superiority complex.
“Really? You’re the last person who should be lecturing me on responsibility. Need I remind you of your addiction? Did responsibility for your kids ever cross your mind when you were using drugs to cope?” I am my words like bullets.
I see a flash of something in his eyes–frustration and disbelief.
It might be a low blow, but I’m done letting him walk all over me. If he thinks he can come after me, I’ll remind him he’s not some perfect supernatural being. He’s not better in any way.
I’m shaking with fury that even now, even as adults, he still tries to tear me down. To make me feel like I’m worthless. Why did I let that happen for so long?
Lilly’s hand lands on mine. “You okay?” she murmurs. I nod, swallowing down the bitterness in my throat.
Noah takes a deliberate step forward. The air between us crackles like static. “You’re going to regret this, Sierra,” he growls, eyes narrowed, deadly.
I am so fucking tired of the threats. Why does he keep repeating the same thing as if it’s going to change my mind? As if that’s all it will take to make me stand down? It’s beginning to sound ridiculous.