72 Hours, Page 2

  My eyes follow Lara as she rushes out of the club. Her face is scrunched in pain and her tiny form shoves through the people with a weakness that excites me. She’s timid, pathetic even. I move my eyes to Noah, watching her go. He’s a good mix of angry and desperate. Exactly what I want. He’s looking at her like he wants to protect her while at the same time wanting to beat her.

  She frustrates him. She’s fragile and weak. He’s strong and determined.

  The perfect combination for my game.

  The quiet little mouse and the man who will stop at nothing to protect her.

  I’ve been watching them long enough, setting up my game, to know I have found the perfect pieces. They have no idea. Not a single clue how many times I’ve infiltrated their lives without their ever knowing it. Stupid. I can’t wait to see their faces when they find out just how close I’ve been all this time.

  They’re going to wish they never met me by the time I’m done with them.

  TWO

  “Lara, can you please put my mug under the coffee machine and press START before you go for your run?” Rachel calls out.

  “Already done,” I call softly, leaning down to lace up my shoes.

  Rachel took me in after Noah and I broke up and I moved out. I do as much as I can to help her out, including making sure she’s got hot coffee every morning before I go out. She saved my ass. It’s the least I can do.

  “You’re a gem.”

  So I’ve been told.

  “I’ll be back in an hour.”

  I grab my water bottle and move to the front door, checking that I’ve got my phone before heading out. The weather is warm in Orlando today, a soft breeze trickling through the trees. After pulling my long chestnut hair into a ponytail, I step out onto the path in front of my apartment and put my earbuds in, starting my usual morning jog. I move down two blocks and then cross a road to a local park. It has a path running beside it that goes into some thick forest before coming out close to downtown.

  My one hour of peace each day.

  I sing softly to the music, pounding harder and faster as my body warms up. Crossing the road, I move past the park and into the trees. The weather instantly cools without the warmth of the sun breaking through, and it dries up some of the sweat forming on my brow. I think about Noah and how much it hurt to see him at the bar last night, let alone with another woman.

  Will it ever stop hurting?

  A hand taps my shoulder and I scream, spinning around to see Noah standing behind me, sweat running down and soaking the front of his tank. I press a hand to my heart, studying him, then pull out my earbuds. Only he would find a way to be on his run at the same time I’m on mine. Can’t this man just leave me alone? “What are you doing here, Noah?”

  “I recently moved into an apartment in the area and was jogging when I saw you. I see you still enjoy running?”

  “Why did you move into this area?”

  He shrugs. “I liked it.”

  This is too much. “Why now?”

  “For a while I was traveling for work. I volunteered to train some other recruits. Considering you wouldn’t talk to me, I needed a distraction.” He shrugs again. “Now I have a little time on my hands and it felt like time to relocate.”

  I take a step back, my mind reeling. “I want to finish my run,” I say. “And you’re going to leave me alone.”

  “Lara, come on,” he sighs. “Let’s talk about this.”

  I take a drink from my bottle, ignoring his pleading. My eyes focus on anything but him.

  “Are you seriously still doing this?” he grunts. “I’ve been tryin’ to call you for months with little success. You ignored me without a word and you’re really not going to give me five minutes to explain?”

  “Explain what?” I ask, crossing my arms. “The fact that I walked in and found you with a woman on your lap in your office?”

  He jerks, and his face grows tight with frustration. “You read it wrong.”

  “I can’t imagine how,” I mumble.

  He uses the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. It takes all my inner strength not to stare at his big, muscled form. Mostly to avoid remembering how good it felt to be tucked into his arms, how secure and safe he could make me feel. He just had that way. He made me feel like nothing in the world could ever touch me when I was in his arms. And then he took that all away in one moment. The only feeling of safety I had left was gone in an instant.

  “Is Noah in?” I smile to the young girl sitting at the front desk of the firehouse.

  “Yeah, he’s in his office.”

  “Mind if I go through?”

  “No, go for it.”

  I walk down the hall, heading toward Noah’s office. I thought I’d bring him lunch, spend some time with him. Things have been rough in the last few months, and he’s been by my side through it all. He’s seen me at my worst and picked me up when I fell. After Nan died, I have felt like nothing is enough, like I’m not enough. I feel like I’m not being the girlfriend he deserves. He deserves me to try, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m trying.

  I open the door and step in, opening my mouth to greet him when I see her. She’s on his lap, long blond hair flowing around her back, pretty as can be. The kind of woman that looks like his perfect fit. She’s kissing him. Their mouths, connected, touching—it’s all I see before my vision blurs, tears clouding it. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I stumble back, gasping for air.

  How could he do this to me?

  I already know how. Because I’m an emotional, broken woman who got her nanna killed because she couldn’t control her loud mouth. Then I became this weak, pathetic mess who spends most days crying and trying to figure out who I should be and who I am now. Of course he’s with another woman. Why the hell wouldn’t he be? This is exactly what I deserve.

  I turn and leave, but not before I hear Noah call out my name.

  I run, tears flowing down my cheeks.

  “Lara!” he calls. “Lara, wait!”

  He catches me at the door, hand curling around my upper arm. He spins me around but I shove at his chest, causing him to stumble backward.

  “Don’t touch me!” I scream. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Lara, it isn’t—”

  “Get away from me.”

  I turn and keep going, darting straight across the road. I reach the park and drop to my knees, sobbing with agony, and pain, and regret. Maybe this is my karma. Maybe this is the universe’s way of punishing me for what happened with my nanna. Or maybe, just maybe, Noah is better off without me.

  Of course he is.

  I’m worth nothing.

  “Lara, fuck, how could you throw it all away? We were together over two years.”

  His question brings me back to the present. “Seriously?” I ask, eyes wide with shock. “You think I’m the one who threw it away?”

  God, if only he knew how much it meant to me. I wanted to marry this man, to have kids with him, to be with him for the rest of my life. Walking in and seeing him with another woman ripped my heart out. It sent my whole world crashing down. Leaving him was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to endure in my life. How he could think it meant nothing is beyond me. He was the one who hurt me.

  He grunts. “Yet you won’t talk to me, you just broke it off and ran.”

  I flinch. “It was what I had to do.”

  He shakes his head, jaw tight. “God, you’re a pain in the ass.”

  That hurts. He’s acting as if all this is my fault, when it was he who cheated on me.

  “I don’t need to listen to this, Noah. I don’t deserve it.”

  “That’s just the thing,” he yells. “You’re not listening. You’re refusing to listen.”

  The familiar sting of anger bubbles in my chest, but I push it down. Be calm. Don’t react. It isn’t worth getting upset over. “I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

  He makes a frustrated noise in his throat.

  I shak
e my head. I can’t listen to any more of this. I can’t take any more of this. “I have to go.” I turn my back to him and start walking away.

  “Fuck, Lara,” he barks. “Let me talk to you.”

  I pick up into a jog and disappear out the other side of the trees, but not before I hear his angry curse. I run until I’m out of breath, but I could swear he’s still behind me. I stop and turn every now and then, glancing into the trees, but nobody is there. Yet it feels as though someone is. He’s probably following me—he’s protective like that, always wanting to know I’m safe. He doesn’t need to worry anymore—I’m no longer his burden.

  THREE

  I avoid jogging down my usual path for the next week, hoping to avoid running into Noah again at all costs. He’s tried to call a few times, but I figure he’s learned by now it doesn’t matter how much he calls because I won’t answer. I have nothing to say. I’m trying to move on with my life.

  “Ma’am, the line has moved forward.”

  I jerk out of my thoughts and shuffle ahead in the Starbucks line I’ve been waiting in for the last ten minutes. It’s my job to get coffee for my work colleagues every day. So I spend close to half an hour in here every day because I am forced to come at peak time. I don’t mind, though; it lets me drift off into my own little world where no one bothers me.

  “Sorry,” I mumble to the man behind me.

  I reach the front of the line after another five minutes.

  “What can I get for you?” the sour young man says, clearly bored with his day already. Is it so much to ask for good customer service these days?

  “Two grande cappuccinos, two grande lattes, one venti iced coffee.”

  He nods and scribbles it onto the cups with my name and I move to the group waiting for the drinks to be made. The girls behind the counter are in no hurry either, chatting happily about their weekends and the men they’re dating, taking their sweet time to make the drinks that everyone is waiting for.

  “Morning.”

  The voice comes from behind me, and I turn and see a middle-aged man sitting at a table just to my left. I glance around, not sure if he’s talking to me, but realize that he’s looking directly at me. Maybe he’s confused, or maybe he’s just friendly. That would be a nice change. “Ah, morning.” I smile shyly.

  “Long wait, isn’t it?”

  I nod. “It is.”

  “You doing the morning run for your workplace?”

  I laugh softly. “Is it that obvious?”

  He smiles. He’s good looking. Blond hair, blue eyes, all-American-boy smile. He seems like the type of man Rachel would swoon over.

  “It’s always the quiet ones,” he says, almost to himself.

  I give him another smile and turn back to the line.

  “Do you work around here?”

  Why is he talking to me? People don’t usually make the effort to talk to me, because I tend to keep my head down. “Just up the road at the Morgan and Francis law firm,” I mumble.

  He nods. “I’ve heard good things about them.”

  I shrug. “I’m just a receptionist.”

  He smiles. “You don’t seem like the type to be just a receptionist.”

  “I guess you read me wrong.”

  His smile widens. “I never read people wrong.”

  Okay.

  “Lara.”

  The sound of Noah’s voice to my left has me spinning around. He stands in the line, studying me. God, it’s as if I can’t escape him. This is borderline stalking now. He’s probably following me. He’s a take-action kind of man and if he wants something, he gets it. Still, if he thinks I’m going to give him the satisfaction of talking to him, he can look elsewhere. I’m not going to listen to what he has to say.

  “Did you follow me here, too?” I ask.

  He narrows his eyes. “I like coffee, and it’s close to my new job. I don’t think that’s considered following you.”

  I clench my teeth but say nothing.

  He looks good today. He’s been a firefighter for six years. He started as a volunteer years ago but quickly became chief. His job is his life. It works for him. It suits him. A good portion of the women in Starbucks are staring at him, and I can’t blame them. He’s wearing a tight black tee but it’s the yellow pants slung low around his hips, dirty from wear, that make him irresistible. They’re probably seriously considering lighting their houses on fire just to get him to save them.

  I can’t say I blame them.

  “We can do this every day or you can just talk to me and then I’ll leave you alone if you want,” he says, moving closer and leaning down so his voice is close to my ear. I shiver at the hot breath that tickles my neck.

  He’s leaning down close, way too close.

  I take a step to the side. “I’ve told you there’s nothing to say.”

  He growls, low in his chest. “God, you fucking drive me crazy. Why can’t you just hear me out?”

  I swallow but say nothing. I collect my coffee and leave.

  I need a damned vacation.

  * * *

  I walk out of work later that night, tired from a long day. It’s dark out and the streetlight shines down just over my car, which is comfortably parked a little too close to the curb. I’m looking forward to going home and getting some sleep. My mind is a complete mess at the moment and frankly, I’m ready to get away from it all.

  From him.

  “Lara.”

  I exhale loudly. For the past three months, I thought I’d never see him again, and now I see him every single time I think about him. I turn slowly and see Noah leaning against a lamppost, arms crossed, studying me.

  “There’s a law against stalking, Noah,” I say, pulling my keys from my purse.

  He pushes off the post and walks toward me. “I’m not stalking you, I was just waiting for you to finish work so we could talk.”

  “What part of I don’t want to are you not grasping?” I mumble, unlocking my car.

  He steps forward as I go to pull my door open and presses his body against mine, putting his hand on the roof of my car and effectively trapping me.

  “Noah,” I breathe, going weak at the very feeling of him pressing against me.

  “We’re going to talk.”

  I hate that he thinks he can dictate what we will and will not do. I used to love that about him. Now I hate it.

  “No,” I say, trying to shove him away so I can open my door and leave.

  “Lara,” he sighs. “You left me, moved out without a word, shut down for months, and didn’t give me one second of your time. I left for training, I called but didn’t push. I wanted to give you time, because I respected that you needed it. Now I’m done waiting. We’re talking.”

  “No, we’re not.”

  “Jesus, when did you get so damned stubborn and unreasonable?”

  That just makes me angrier, but I squash it down and take a deep, shaky breath. “I’m not ready for this and I don’t think I’ll ever be. Now get off me, Noah, or I’ll scream.”

  “Seriously?” he says, exasperated. “Why the hell would you do that?”

  I twist so I’m facing him, then tilt my head back and look up. “Because you hurt me and I’ve asked you to leave me alone. You’re choosing not to respect that and I’m tired of it.”

  His eyes hold me. “When did you start to hate me so much? God, we went through so much together with your nan and you just leave me without an explanation?”

  “Without an explanation?” I cry, my emotions taking over. “You were kissing another woman!”

  “It wasn’t what you think, you should have known me better. I’d never do anything to hurt you. If you had let me explain, you’d know that. Stop using your insecurities as a barrier, Lara. You know me.”

  I flinch.

  My insecurities. Another consequence of losing Nan. When I first met Noah, I never thought twice about being good enough. The day I lost Nan was the day the confidence floated away, as if she took it with
her when she died. I became a shell of a person. I stopped loving who I was, yet Noah stood beside me. He held my hand through it all, through the ups and downs, through the pain and heartache. Through the change in who I was. Yet it only confirmed my feelings that I wasn’t good enough for him. He loved me, I knew that, but I knew it was a matter of time before he’d go looking for more.

  “Get off me Noah,” I say, my voice weak, tired.

  “Come on, Lara,” he rasps. “It’s me. Stop the act, you know I’d never hurt you.”

  “I don’t know a damned thing,” I snap. “All I know is what I saw. I saw you with a woman on your lap, and she was kissing you. And the sad part is, I know what I became—why you would have wanted her—so you don’t need to explain anything.”

  “My God,” he growls, seeming to finally crack and let a little of his anger show. “You have no fucking idea, do you?”

  “Just leave me alone, please.”

  “Lara, fuck…”

  “I don’t want to talk to you, Noah, now leave me alone.”

  “No,” he growls. “For once in your life you’re going to stop with the fucking games.”

  Games?

  Is he serious?

  That both stings and makes me angry.

  “Get off me, now!” I yell, which is pathetic even to my ears.

  “Ma’am, is everything okay here?”

  I look past Noah to see a police officer standing, glaring at Noah. I shouldn’t do it, I shouldn’t, but I just want to be left the hell alone. I’m trying to move on and he’s making it impossible for me. Memories of that woman in his arms flitter through my mind and push me to open my mouth and say, “No, it’s not okay. He won’t get off me.”

  The pain and anger in Noah’s eyes as he looks at me with utter horror and shock break my heart.

  I turn my head to the side and look away.

  “You know what,” he says, pushing off me. “You’re not worth it.”

  Those words wound me more than I could have ever imagined.

  The tension is there, ready and waiting.

  The more she rejects him, the angrier he gets. That’s exactly how I want him: irritated and exasperated.

  He needs to have resentment. It’s vital to my plan.