Page 39 of Your Fault

Was my car outside? I hadn’t even bothered to look. I walked toward the door, but just then Steve emerged from his office holding his phone, with an intimidating look on his face.

“Were you talking to him?” I asked, pointing a finger at him.

“Noah, he asked me not to let you go out. He’ll explain everything tomorrow.”

I laughed. It sounded strange. I could sense Steve was embarrassed, but I knew he’d do as Nick said.

“It’s late. Get some rest, and you’ll see him tomorrow.”

Bullshit.

“Fine, you’re right.”

Steve seemed relieved and watched me closely as I turned around and climbed the stairs. He was out of his mind if he thought he would prevent me from leaving my own home. I entered my room, ready to wait as long as I had to. Pacing nervously, I took out my phone again.

There is no justification for what you’re doing, and when I see you, you’re going to get it.

He answered me right away.

Don’t be nasty. I love you. Get some rest and I’ll see you soon.

See you soon? For real?

I went to the bathroom to wash up. I felt gross after all those hours in the airplane. I looked at the clock: it was 9:00 p.m., and I couldn’t even think about breaking out before eleven. I laughed at that thought:breaking out, like I was in jail.

I was going to kill him…

Once I was halfway presentable, admittedly with my hair still wet, I peeked into the hallway. I couldn’t hear anyone. But then, you never did hear anyone in that enormous house. My plan was to go to the garage and take my old car. The same one that had broken down a thousand times but that I couldn’t stand to think of selling—or junking, since that was more likely. I’d known that heap of trash would end up coming in handy one day.

The garage door was at the back of the house, so I didn’t need to go near the front door or Steve’s office. I walked downstairs, making as little noise as possible, and grinned when I saw my precious car next to Mom’s BMW. There was a motorcycle there, too. I’d never asked whose it was, and honestly, I was tempted to take it, but I didn’t know where the keys were, and I was sure Nicholas would kill me if he saw me show up late at night with a motorcycle, especially since I’d never driven one in my life.

I got in and pressed the button on the garage door opener, thanking God one more time that the house was huge and no one heard me leave.

I had nearly an hour’s drive ahead of me, so I cranked up the music and opened the windows to try to stay awake. I wished Iwere in my convertible and not in this car that had a top speed of around forty-five.

I knew I shouldn’t take the interstate at that hour. I hadn’t even slept in twenty hours, but I didn’t care; the need to see Nicholas and the feeling that something wasn’t right were stronger than anything else.

The drive took forever, and when I finally reached his building, I felt more nervous than ever. Not just because I was finally seeing him after a month but because I knew he’d get mad at me for going all the way there alone at that time of night.

As I got into the elevator, I realized I didn’t have my keys. Shit… Now I was going to have to ring the doorbell at one in the morning. My heart was galloping when I saw the door in front of me. I knocked instead of ringing. I don’t know why, but it seemed more reasonable. I did so softly, not dramatically. I was already trying to calm things down before I had even seen him.

No one opened.

I knocked again, and then I saw a faint light under the door. Had he been sleeping? I heard a curse, then an insult. Finally the door opened. There he was.

I don’t think anything could have prepared me for what I saw. I had to hold my breath. My hands came straight to my mouth to muffle a scream. He hadn’t expected me there, and now I knew why.

“Goddammit, Noah,” he said, leaning his forehead on the doorframe. “Can’t you just do what I ask of you one fucking time?”

“What happened to you?” I whispered. His entire face was one big bruise, his left eye was greenish and leaking pus, and his lip looked cracked all the way through.

“I told you to stay home!”

Now that I was there, now that I saw him, I understood why he hadn’t come to pick me up. He was destroyed; he’d been beatento a pulp… The terror at the sight of him in that state mingled with my joy at seeing him, but whatever fantasy I’d had of seeing him again after weeks vanished terribly before my eyes.

I looked at his bare chest, with a bandage wrapped around his ribs…

Someone had hurt him. They’d hurt him badly. They’d hurt Nick. My Nick.

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