Page 23 of The Addict

With one last squeeze of my shoulder and a pat on the back, Marcus released me.

“Goodnight, Mr. Hansen. Sleep well.”

“Oh, I will.”

DELANE

I was captivated by the beauty of Noah’s home. I had never seen anything like it before. Huge, a mansion almost. Complex and intricate. I was unable to control my curiosity at the possibility of seeing what my inner child would have considered a palace. It was a bit surreal.

“Are you ready?” Noah’s voice came from behind me.

The truth of why I was here in the first place wasn’t fully sinking in yet. My body still ached from the attack and struggle. Yet, all I could think about when I heard Noah’s voice was: If this place was a palace, then was Noah the prince? He certainly could pass for royalty, I thought. He was handsome and strong, had rescued me, and if this mansion was an indicator, he was probably wealthy, too.

He had a smile that could kill. The same deadly smile that he was wearing at the moment.

“Uh...yeah...I think so...” I mumbled, glad the darkness could shield my burning cheeks.

He placed his hands in his pockets and closed the distance between us. I held my breath.

“Here’s the deal,” He closed his eyes and spoke in such a calm manner that I instantly felt at ease—almost too comfortable. When he opened his eyes, hints of rage lingered. I remembered those eyes. In the alley way they sliced through me, fluid and ready for confrontation, but now they were steadfast, gleaming with the finest onyx and reflecting the moonlight.

“I need you to stay right here, in this spot. Do you understand?” He formed it like a question, but even I understood that it was an order.

I wasn’t afraid. This man saved my life, right? I nodded, feeling light, as if I could float up into the air.

“Good.” He turned and started a short trek to the side of the enormous building.

“I’m going around,” He seemed to answer the question before I asked it. He cracked a grin. “Be right back.”

I gave him another nod, but he had already vanished into the night.

NOAH

I made my way to the back of the house. Stealthily, I advanced towards the small light by the garden door entryway, my back pinned to the outside brick. David was not someone to be taken lightly, and I didn’t intend to start now.

I grasped tightly onto the device that I had taken from the car. I planted it there for times like this: when David went nuts and I had to return home, not knowing if the bitch was lurking in the shadows, waiting.

Watching.

“What are you doing outside at this hour, Noah?”

I felt my knees quiver as the memories of David’s last “episode” rang through my ears.

“Hah! What’s wrong with you? You’re a pussy.”

The remembered feeling of helplessness was shrinking down inside of me. That feeling of powerlessness and inability to change fate.

A crushing acceptance. A loss of hope and will.

“Are you afraid of the dark, Noah?”

I grit my teeth from the barrage of unwanted memories and allowed the gun to emerge from behind my back. The safety was off, and I stood on the terrace that encircled the outside of the house. The backdoor loomed before me, daring me to turn its nob.

Just how many unlit hallways would I have to trek through?

I took in three deep breaths and placed my fingers around the cool metal. Twisted.

Locked.