Page 79 of The Irish Redemption

Noah stops in his tracks and turns back to me. He reaches me in a fewsteps then strikes me across the face. “You’re lucky I give you anything at all!”

“Lucky?” I gather saliva and fresh blood with a swipe of my tongue and then spit it toward him as my tired heart hammers beneath my aching ribs. “How is it lucky that you’ve locked me up here and finally remembered to give me water more than once?”

“You’re lucky I haven’t killed you yet,” Noah growls. He carries a handgun in one hand and his knuckles flex slightly when he tightens his grip. That gun stopped scaring me a while ago, although without a clock and sunlight, I can’t really tell how long it’s been.

“Why haven’t you killed me yet, huh?” I press. “Are you keeping me here for entertainment?”

“Entertainment?” He scoffs, looking me over. “Nah. Nah. I just need time. Time to think. And you give me time. So. Yeah. Time.” He stumbles away from me again. “Just time to make a plan, that’s all.”

“A plan? For what, me?”

He ignores me, keeping his back turned.

“Or a plan for you?”

“I don’t need a plan,” Noah mutters. “I know what I’m doing. It’s been good so far. Really good.”

“Has it, though?” It’s not the brightest idea to question the man with the gun, but he’d left me alone for hours, denying me the chance to get any answers. If I’m going to die here, I want to know why.

“It has.” He glances back at me. “I just need some more time and then everything… everything will be fine.”

“Are you too scared?” I taunt. “Can’t bring yourself to kill me, is that it? Because if you’re planning on just letting me starve here, the water was a stupid move.”

Noah is suddenly back next to me with his hand around my throat, glaring down into my eyes. “Shut the fuck up! You’re all the same, fucking sluts getting in the way of everything. It would have been so easy, so fucking easy if she’d just—” He cuts himself off and glares in silence.

I can’t breathe. My lungs try to inflate, forcing a painful pull from my bruised ribs, but there’s no air to be had. Clenching my hands into fists, I pull tight against the cold, wet rope keeping me bound, but my skin is so raw from previous struggles that I don’t have the strength to struggle again. Just as dark spots dance in front of my eyes, Noah releases me and I sag forward. Harsh, raspy coughs erupt from my chest and each desperate breath tastes like iron.

“Oh, yeah,” I croak when I lift my head. “Blame your actions on a woman. Pretty sure the only one responsible for killing anyone here is you. Or did Brenden just fall onto that knife?”

“Brenden?” Noah slaps me hard across the face, snapping my head to the side so forcefully that a stabbing pain lances through my neck. “The fuck do you know about Brenden? That fucking prick.”

“I know you killed him,” I gasp, straightening myself. My lower lip swells with heat. “And I know he took your girlfriend.”

Noah freezes, and a strange, cold look enters his eyes. “Fucking Holly. Fucking bitch. I loved her, y’know? I knew she was a fucking slut but she was mine, and I was gonna give her such a good life. Then she decided I wasn’t good enough. Imagine! A whore saying I’m not good enough. If I’d paid her enough, she’d have begged for me.”

He rambles and starts to pace back and forth. Clearly, I’ve touched on a sore spot, but if it gets more information out of him, then I’m relieved.

“And then!” He spins to face me, brandishing the gun, and I shrink back, fearing the explosive pain of a bullet. Thankfully, he doesn’t pullthe trigger. “Imagine my fucking surprise when she decides that oh, I’m not good enough for her but fucking Brenden Gifford is!”

“That must have hurt,” I say cautiously.

“It did! Thank you!” He speaks loudly. “That fucking cunt. As if he didn’t already do enough to destroy my family.”

“He harmed your family and took your girl?”

“See? He was a fucking snake. You have no idea, no fucking idea how hard I worked. I scraped and I scraped and I scraped together a deal with the Cartel. You got any idea what they ask for when it comes to their deals? Fucking flesh, man. My sister…” He trails off. “But it was worth it because I had the sweetest fucking deal to take to my boss. And the day before, the day before!” Noah kicks hard at the ground. “Fucking Brenden Gifford and the Irish sign a fucking weapons treaty with the Don and my deal is dead in the water. Suddenly, Cartel weapons mean nothing because the Irish think they’re fucking superior.”

His pacing grows more furious and he lifts the gun to his own temple, tapping slightly. My heart starts to race and an unexpected cold panic sets in.

Why am I scared he will die?

If he shoots himself, I really will starve to death here.

“Is that why you killed him?” I ask. “He ruined your deal?”

“Nah.” Noah snorts. “I was gonna, but then the Don was making things good for me, y’know? Even tried to get my sister back from the Cartel, but they killed her, the stupid bitch. Whatever. I moved on. But then I saw him with Holly and I realized this fucker was coming for me again. It was all personal. I didn’t see it before. Do you see?” He advances on me with that strange look back in his eyes. “He was after me from the beginning!”

I don’t see. Whatever connection he’s made in his mind is lost on me. “I see it,” I lie. “I’m so sorry.”

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