Page 88 of Saved By Two

NOAH

I know having Elliot here isn’t easy for him—I know he tolerates him for me. I loved Elliot, but the way I love Caleb is so much more profound. When Caleb and I first met, I was still grieving my relationship with Elliot. Even though it was a mutual decision, I had hoped things would be different when he returned from his last mission, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. I can’t even pretend to understand what he went through on that last mission; they lost a friend, a brother in arms, and he ended up having half his leg blown off.

I was his friend before we were lovers, and his injury didn’t change how I felt about him, but he wouldn’t see reason. The man who left and returned was not the same.

But even then, I could still read Elliot. I knew I wasn’t what he needed. And that was when I met Caleb. He was already friends with Jax.

We follow Jessica and Caleb into the living room.

When Elliot is wearing trousers, apart from the limp and the flat foot, you wouldn’t know that he wears a prosthetic.

But I notice how River places his palm on Elliot’s lower back as we enter the living room.Interesting.

He might think it’s a subtle move, but it’s clear something is going on there—good for them.

As long as he’s happy, that’s all that matters. I glance at Caleb; his expression is harsh. I smile and see the slight curve of his lips. His eyes quickly peruse my body before his stoic expression returns.

His arm is still wrapped around Jessica’s shoulder, and I love how she leans into him for comfort and support. I don’t know if they’re even aware they’re doing it.

Elliot clears his throat.

“Okay, you good if the guys check out the room while I get started on the phone?”

He glances between Caleb and me.

“Yeah, of course, the room is this way.”

I leave Caleb and Jessica with Elliot while River and Jax follow me upstairs.

“Did you touch anything?” Jax asks as I open the door to the room.

I shake my head.

River lets out a whistle and walks over as he assesses the mess on the bed.

“Well, it’s clear this was personal.” He looks over his shoulder. “Ex, by any chance?”

“We very much don’t think it’s anyone else.”

I grind my jaw, angry the fucker even got in our house in the first place. We’re meant to be keeping her safe, for fuck’s sake.

Jax walks over and studies the Polaroids without picking them up. It wouldn’t see the light of day if it were anyone else and under any other circumstances. Unless it was taken by one of us and we had consent to do so.

It feels surreal standing here, watching them go through the room, studying it. I feel violated for Jessica. The longer we stand here, the angrier I’m becoming, my blood boiling as I take in her destroyed underwear.

“Is that?”

I can’t even finish my sentence.

“Yeah, it looks like semen,” Jax says, his jaw tight.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take a deep breath, feeling sick to my stomach. This was a personal attack, and he needs to be stopped if he’s capable of this after what he did to her. I dread what he would have done if we hadn’t taken her back to our room. The fact he took a photo of her while she was asleep in our bed angers me more than the one he took of us having sex. A fucked up part of me hopes he saw what we did to her, how she loved everything about it, how much pleasure we elicited from her.

“Please, whatever you do, don’t tell her. She doesn’t need to know that.”

When I look up, he nods in understanding. He moves over to the wall, kicks his foot up and leans back.

“How long have the three of you…you know?”

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