“I’m going to wrap my hands around his neck and choke the life out of him,” I growl.
“Noah, what’s going on?”
“Howard Malloy designed the drug that killed my brother.” My whole body shakes with the need to destroy him, to tear his flesh from his bones, to make him feel the pain I’d lived in ever since Felix died. “And my father paid for it. Hefundedit. And when it went wrong, he and Malloy worked together to cover it up.”
11
Claudia
Istare at the paper in Noah’s trembling hand. John Marlowe funded the production of the drug that killed his own son?
That’sinsane.
It makes no sense. What about the very ugly, verypubliccourt case? Malloy Supplements had the best lawyers in the business – why didn’t they just bring up Marlowe’s involvement from the onset? Why was he keeping these papers hidden away… unless it was in Howard Malloy’s interestnotto have Senator Marlowe’s involvement known. But if they were working together, why would Marlowe hire Brentwood to have Howard and his family killed?
The lab reports leave a big, fat question mark over the entire affair. I feel untethered, lost in the sense that Malloy Manor is working to unravel the secrets Howard built around himself, the secrets that had kept me safe as his child ghost.
This is beyond my ability to puzzle out, and it’s not something I can call Antony to get answers from the underground. No, this needs Eli Hart and his Sherlock Holmes orgasm face, Eli who always has the uncanny ability to look right through a problem and see into the messy, broken heart of it. From the way Noah’s poring over the papers with an obsessive film over his eyes, I know he’s thinking the same thing.
But Eli isn’t here, and I’ve got a dangerously deteriorating Noah Marlowe on my hands. As Noah rereads those lab reports in Howard Malloy’s secret box, I see my own madness reflected in him – he needs an outlet for his rage or it will consume him.
Even though I’m curious about what it all means, I know this isn’t time for puzzling. I drag Noah into the ballroom and toss a sword at him.
“Go on.” I heft my own sword and face him, my feet spread, my fingers loose, feeling the weight of the weapon. “Raise your sword.”
“I’m not going to fight you, Claudia.” Noah manages to sound both derisive and faintly amused.
“Suit yourself.” I swing my sword at his head, not holding anything back. Noah yells as he ducks, throwing his weapon in the air to meet mine with aCLANG. He’s caught me on the wrong part of the blade, and the momentum throws off his balance. His boot catches the edge of the coffee table, and he staggers backward. I wind against his blade and bring my pommel up, slamming it into his cheek.
“Jesus fuck!” Noah yells as he throws his sword down and grabs his face. “You’recrazy. That fucking hurt. You could have taken off my head with that blade.”
“Damn right. You want to play in my world? You want to sit around in my house and talk about killing your father and getting revenge for your brother? Then grow some testicles. It’s all words. It means jack shit unless you’re willing to draw blood for your convictions.” I flick a knife from my wrist. “You don’t know what we’re up against, or what it’s going to take to bring them down.”
His hands ball into fists. “You know nothing about me.”
“Then surprise me, Marlowe.” I tap the tip of my sword against my toe. “On your feet.”
Noah drags himself upright, but he doesn’t pick up his sword. He folds his arms across his chest and glares at me with that powerful rage curling. “I’m not fighting you.”
“Why not?” I jeer, tossing aside my own sword and moving closer, fists raised. I throw a punch at his head, but he ducks easily. I pummel him with my fists, but he blocks every punch, his huge arms like brick walls in my way. I go in for an uppercut, and Noah grabs my wrist, twisting my body against his and hemming me in with his bulk. His heart thumps against my skin, and the salt and jasmine scent of him makes my stomach flip. I’m not the only one who finds this hot – I can feel Noah’s hard cock digging into my leg.
He’s fast. Holy fuck he’s fast.Noah Marlowe knows how to fight.But where did he learn? Not the Stonehurst Prep track team, that’s for damn sure.
Well, he never counted on an opponent like me. I reach up and press my lips to his, capturing him in an adrenaline-fueled kiss. My body is alive with the feel of him – all hard muscle pressed against me. Noah moans, attacking my mouth with as much venom as I dish out. As I thrust my tongue deeper into his mouth, I wriggle free of his grip and bring up my knee to get him between the legs.
Sucker—
“Oh, no you don’t,” Noah growls against my lips as he sweeps my leg out from under me. I go down, dragging him with me. My back hits the mat, driving the wind from my lungs. Noah’s on top of me, fighting to pin my hands.
“What the fuck are you doing? I said I won’t fight you.” He breathes hard, his body heaving. Sweat pours down his face, and the demons in his eyes dance on the surface, certain that any moment they’ll be free. Seeing Noah teetering on the edge of control is intoxicating. I wonder how far I can push him, and what I’ll find on the other side.
“Tell me why.” I mean it to be a command, but he has my hands pinned and he’s grinding his cock against my throbbing clit through our jeans, and it comes out more like I’m begging.
“Because I’llkillyou, Claudia.” My real name on his lips is pure poison-laced ecstasy. Noah’s shoulders tense again, and before my eyes I watch him shutter himself against the world, putting all those dangerous emotions back into their tiny boxes. But it’s too late – I’ve seen the dangerous side of him.
Noah flings himself away. He stands above me, his chest heaving, and extends a hand to help me up. His fingers lace in mine and send a shock of electricity through my body. Noah feels it too, because he yanks his arm away. My lips ache with the ghost of his brutality. I rub them with my fingers, and when I draw them back, I see blood.
“Don’t mind me, lovebirds.”
