Page 44 of Risky Taste
Declan turns, his arm still slung around Noah’s shoulders, and frowns, spotting them. “What the fuck?” he mutters, his grin fading. Noah stiffens, his smile dropping, and I see the flicker of panic in his eyes, the same one I’ve been shoving down all day.
They approach, stopping a few feet away, their eyes scanning us, and the taller one steps forward. “Which one of you is Noah Strong?” he asks. My chest locks up, and I glance at Noah beside me, his face paling, his hands twitching at his sides.
I step closer to Noah, my bulk a shield, but the shorter officer speaks up. “We’ve got some questions that need answering down at the station. Noah Strong, right?” He nods at Noah, who’s staring wide-eyed, his breath shallow.
“Am I under arrest?” Noah asks, his voice cracking.
The tall one tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. “We can take you into custody if we have to, but we’d prefer this to be a peaceful transaction. Come with us, answer what we need, and we’ll see where it goes.” His hand rests casually on his belt, but the threat’s there, clear as day.
I don’t think, just move, my hands cupping Noah’s face, pulling him to me. His skin’s warm under my palms as I kiss him hard, my lips pressing into his with everything I’ve got. “Don’t say a fucking word,” I whisper against his mouth, a command I need him to hear. He stares at me confused before fixing his expression, the taller officer stepping in, taking his arm. I let go,my hands dropping to my sides as I watch them cart him away, his head turning back to us. The aisle empties out fast, shoppers scattering, making this moment just a little too real.
“Fuck the cart,” I growl, shoving it aside, the wheels rattling as it crashes into a shelf. Logan’s already moving, Declan right behind, and we bolt for the exit and pile into the truck.
The ride to Maura’s is a blur, Maura shrieking as we burst through the front door, a coffee mug halfway to her lips. “What’s wrong?” she says, standing fast, her eyes darting between us. “Where’s Noah?”
“Things just got worse,” I say, cutting straight to it. “Police took Noah for questioning. We don’t know what they’ve got, but it’s bad.”
Maura doesn’t say anything, just puts a few things in a small bag before throwing it at me. “Food. I know damn well you three won’t eat while trying to save him and you’ll need the energy. Go figure out what’s going on and then you can come back to visit like you’re supposed to.” She’s forcing a smile onto her face, the woman stronger than we all give her credit for.
I pull her into a hug before rushing upstairs to grab my bag, the other two already waiting for me as we pile back into the car. The badges were from our city, not Handelbrook, which means they’ve carted him back home. Declan cuts through the silence as I peel out onto the street. “There’s no fucking way he’d be taken down to the station for questioning unless Heath or Kurt gave up his name. No one else has shit on him.”
“I’m pretty sure we know who did it. Kurt’s probably waltzing around, free as a bird, hoping that all of his shit lands on Noah.” My hands flex around the steering wheel, itching to wrap around Kurt’s neck, to squeeze until he feels half the panic I do. That report, the whispers, Noah’s ear—it’s all Kurt, every fucking piece, and he’s playing us like pawns. “What are our fucking options?” I say, the frustration boiling over.
“I’m not sure,” Logan starts. “I’m gonna see if Mom’s still got that lawyer on speed dial. She used him a while back—good guy, sharp. Might buy us some time.”
Declan leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and tries a grin but it feels forced. “Hey, at least this’ll postpone his deployment, right?” The joke lands flat, a dead weight that none of us bite.
Chapter thirty-two
NOAH
The interrogation room is dull, gray, and cold, my body shivering every few seconds. My head is pounding, that ringing in my ears fluctuating between annoying and a dull ache that feels like I could scratch it away. I’m still trying to figure out why I’m here, Sebastian’s words running through my head not to say anything.
I know as much but I’m still trying to understand if Kurt or Heath said something or this is just because I’m Kurt’s brother. The two officers keep pointing at me, berating me, demanding that I give them information but I don’t have any to give. In the last five or so years, Kurt and I really weren’t all that close. We weren’t even in the same state most times.
My neck twitches, turning to the right a little every time they speak, straining to catch their voices over the ringing in my left ear.
The taller officer leans forward, his elbows on the table. “Why do you keep doing that?” he asks.
“There was an incident,” I mention, careful not to give any details. “Some ringing in my ear. I can’t really hear you all that well on my left side.” I don’t tell him it’s getting worse, that it’s spiking now, a high-pitched whine clawing at my skull, or that a headache’s blooming behind my eyes, throbbing with every word they throw at me. I keep my face blank, swallowing the pain, because focusing on it means letting them in, and I can’t.
He tilts his head, frowning. “There’s been no reports of anything like that. What happened?”
I shake my head, my jaw locking. “I don’t feel comfortable talking to you. Not when you’re accusing me of working with my brother.” It’s still hard to say cousin but even harder to believe that someone I regarded as my brother would do all of this to me.
They laugh, a short, barking sound that grates on me as the shorter one leans back in his chair. “Well, your brother gave us your name and then skipped town. We know he’s guilty, no question andshouldhave booked him but his superiors were so sure he wouldn’t leave. But you? You were a surprise. Tell us, Noah, how much did you know?” He forces a file toward me, a thick stack of papers, tempting me to open it and scour whatever they’ve found.
I know enough that that’s the last thing I want to look at.
“I had no fucking clue my brother was a dirtbag,” I snap, my hands slamming the table. “He’s also my cousin, not my brother, something I just found out. He sold me to his partner, Heath, and while I thought I was in love, it was just so that man could have some ass. He beat me, threatened me, yelled at me, and when I tried to break away, I fell into the deepest depression I’ve ever been in. Why the fuck would I work with people like that? People who’d use me, break me, just for their gain?” My voicecracks, my breath coming in heavy pants, the headache pulsing stronger now, a hammer against my temples.
The tall one’s expression doesn’t shift, but the shorter one reaches for the folder and opens it, revealing a photo of me. My stomach drops as I stare at it—me passed out on that hotel bed, whiskey soaking my shirt, a bottle tipped over at my side, the scene Kurt staged so perfect it looks real. He must have caught it just as he finished pouring that last bottle but without the whole story, it looks like I was wasted, indulging in a poison I have since left behind.
“Care to explain this?” the shorter one asks. “Or is this just another one of your tactics? Because I’m pretty sure you’re on thin ice, Noah. Another incident with alcohol and that medical license of yours is gone or so I was told.”
I swallow, my throat dry, my eyes locked on the picture. “That’s not what it looks like,” I say, my voice wobbling, but I stop there, clamping my lips shut. Sebastian’s warning rings again, louder now, and I know they’re waiting for me to trip, to give them something they can twist. My head pounds, the pain blurring my thoughts, and I turn to the right, trying to hear past the noise, but it’s useless. “I didn’t do that. Where did you even get that?” I mutter, more to myself, my hands curling into fists under the table.
The taller officer hums his disapproval. “It’s all over the internet, Strong. Popped up this morning—socials, forums, you name it. Pair this with the fact that your cousin said you were in on it all—deployments, deals, the works. This photo’s just the cherry on top. You’re telling us he’s lying?”
